[ They tell the same story but with two very different points of view. Obviously undermining himself, it's a sales trick, have no doubt, Jean Louis says, boring questions whereas Claude, beaming and teasing and so young, her son, calls it a strategic discussion and proceeds to admit that none of his arguments stuck to his new boyfriend, partner, date, whatever they want to call themselves. She doesn't use Edmond's last name for her own private reasons.
Setting the tray aside on the nearby buffet, she finally takes a glass of champagne for herself and toasts them both gently, first Claude, then Jean Louis. He gets a slightly warmer smile this time. She hasn't seen Claude like this for a long time. He had a period in lycée, one she should have paid more attention to, but she'd just figured he was in love, and who knows - maybe he was, then the period ended and another, more heartbreaking one began.
Camille swallows once, smiling at him. Her little afterthought. ]
That must take some iron will. God knows, the rest of us can't outmaneuver your arguments on a good day, Claude.
[ Turning towards Jean Louis, she tilts her head to the side a bit. ]
Like it must take some iron will to make minister at age - what, 25, 26? Iron will and the right backing.
[ Claude looks at him, sends him a small smile whilst sweetly trashing his initial attempt at deflecting Camille's question with humour. It's fine, of course - this is his family, he knows what works and what doesn't, presumably. Jean Louis returns his smile with a raised eyebrow, bumping his knee beneath the table very softly with his own. Camille, meanwhile, looks to him with another question, more pointed this time. Professional on the surface of it, personal in its implications; she's a politician, too, and a great one at that. Jean Louis tips his flute slightly, the golden champagne catching the light, glittering warmly. He thinks back, mentally scrolling through what knowledge he has with regards to this woman - as luck would have it, he actually has something. He'd managed to look her up before coming here, recognising her last name and years back, when he'd visited Paris with Stéphane for a conference, she'd been one of the speakers. He remembers because he'd been in agreement with quite a lot of what she said, whereas Stéphane had been more inclined to throw a rotten egg at the podium.
Iron will, she says. She would know about that, wouldn't she. ]
"What drives the soul may drive the body if one chooses". I simply chose.
[ He gives her a quick nod and salutes her. ]
It is, of course, possible to do more from a lesser position. I had that thought many times throughout the years - how power balances itself out. The more you get, the more it also restricts you. [ He glances at Claude again. ] As evidenced by Claude's victory yesterday. That's certainly swimming against the stream, isn't it?
[ In effect, he'll now have to achieve such things through other people; he's not that person anymore. Granted, he'll set the course for his own party and in that respect, they'll have the chance to swim upstream as per his directions but it's not the same thing. It's something usually reserved for older men for a reason - in certain ways, it's less punishing to lead, to decree what's supposed to be, rather than to embody the small but significant exceptions to the rules on a day-to-day basis. ]
[ Claude has never doubted that Jean Louis was a great politician, rotten views, certainly, but a master at the craft of it and he proves it now, meeting Claude's mother's very obvious dagger with the perfect shield. Her own words. Claude sips his champagne for a moment in silence, letting the rest of Jean Louis' words pass by without comment - not because it doesn't touch him that the other man is trying to turn the attention back to his very personal victory two days prior, but because - as with everything else that's driven by human interaction, politics and otherwise - it's also an obvious attempt at turning the attention away from himself.
Everything has its reasons, its hidden agendas. He can hope for a better world all he wants, but reality is currently this.
And it's not exactly because Jean Louis' story is an obligatory subject in this space. What's his is his. Claude is just happy to share it with him, in private or publicly. Whenever he's ready. He pushes back with his knee beneath the table, they're sitting that close. Like their proximity is the anchor.
His mom, however, does look visibly surprised for a moment, like she never expected to be remembered by anyone. Her career has had many disappointments, to have someone like Jean Louis quote something she must have said at least half a decade ago, an eternity in the political sphere, is a kudos. An unapolegetic one.
Like everything else Jean Louis does.
Claude smiles. ]
Sounds like something you'd have said before doubling the requirements for social security. That's at least two terms ago. You've been immortalized, Maman. Much deserved.
[ It's not sarcasm and his mother looks at him, evidently not taking it for such. ]
[ His answer, Jean Louis', is to quote her, something she said more than five years ago in a speech at a congress that should have secured her a ministry but didn't, because no matter what Claude would like to believe and no matter what he fights for, her darling son, the world is not fair. People don't always get what they're due, but if they don't do the work, they get even less. That is the only fairness there is. She looks at him silently for a long moment, her expression openly surprised, then she smiles, wide, like Claude sometimes smiles, it's the only feature he's inherited from her, minus his hair colour. That's hers as well.
And he is, of course. Little Claude. He sips his wine and comments that she's been immortalized, which is in his idea of liberalism the utmost honour. Camille thinks, looking from him to Jean Louis before taking a long sip of her own champagne, that it's because he refuses to understand. He isn't stupid, he could grasp the liberal values if he so chose.
I simply chose, Jean Louis said - then drawing attention back to Claude and the bill he's been fighting for months and months of hard work. And sometimes you do not get your due, but other times you do.
Still smiling, softer, she meets Claude's eyes. ]
Some things take priority, evidently, and when we set our minds to it, it will succeed if we want it enough. [ Liberal values through and through. She looks over at Jean Louis. ] I think Claude has simply chosen as well.
[ The bill, she means. And him. Claude has chosen him. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Setting the tray aside on the nearby buffet, she finally takes a glass of champagne for herself and toasts them both gently, first Claude, then Jean Louis. He gets a slightly warmer smile this time. She hasn't seen Claude like this for a long time. He had a period in lycée, one she should have paid more attention to, but she'd just figured he was in love, and who knows - maybe he was, then the period ended and another, more heartbreaking one began.
Camille swallows once, smiling at him. Her little afterthought. ]
That must take some iron will. God knows, the rest of us can't outmaneuver your arguments on a good day, Claude.
[ Turning towards Jean Louis, she tilts her head to the side a bit. ]
Like it must take some iron will to make minister at age - what, 25, 26? Iron will and the right backing.
no subject
Iron will, she says. She would know about that, wouldn't she. ]
"What drives the soul may drive the body if one chooses". I simply chose.
[ He gives her a quick nod and salutes her. ]
It is, of course, possible to do more from a lesser position. I had that thought many times throughout the years - how power balances itself out. The more you get, the more it also restricts you. [ He glances at Claude again. ] As evidenced by Claude's victory yesterday. That's certainly swimming against the stream, isn't it?
[ In effect, he'll now have to achieve such things through other people; he's not that person anymore. Granted, he'll set the course for his own party and in that respect, they'll have the chance to swim upstream as per his directions but it's not the same thing. It's something usually reserved for older men for a reason - in certain ways, it's less punishing to lead, to decree what's supposed to be, rather than to embody the small but significant exceptions to the rules on a day-to-day basis. ]
no subject
Everything has its reasons, its hidden agendas. He can hope for a better world all he wants, but reality is currently this.
And it's not exactly because Jean Louis' story is an obligatory subject in this space. What's his is his. Claude is just happy to share it with him, in private or publicly. Whenever he's ready. He pushes back with his knee beneath the table, they're sitting that close. Like their proximity is the anchor.
His mom, however, does look visibly surprised for a moment, like she never expected to be remembered by anyone. Her career has had many disappointments, to have someone like Jean Louis quote something she must have said at least half a decade ago, an eternity in the political sphere, is a kudos. An unapolegetic one.
Like everything else Jean Louis does.
Claude smiles. ]
Sounds like something you'd have said before doubling the requirements for social security. That's at least two terms ago. You've been immortalized, Maman. Much deserved.
[ It's not sarcasm and his mother looks at him, evidently not taking it for such. ]
no subject
And he is, of course. Little Claude. He sips his wine and comments that she's been immortalized, which is in his idea of liberalism the utmost honour. Camille thinks, looking from him to Jean Louis before taking a long sip of her own champagne, that it's because he refuses to understand. He isn't stupid, he could grasp the liberal values if he so chose.
I simply chose, Jean Louis said - then drawing attention back to Claude and the bill he's been fighting for months and months of hard work. And sometimes you do not get your due, but other times you do.
Still smiling, softer, she meets Claude's eyes. ]
Some things take priority, evidently, and when we set our minds to it, it will succeed if we want it enough. [ Liberal values through and through. She looks over at Jean Louis. ] I think Claude has simply chosen as well.
[ The bill, she means. And him. Claude has chosen him. ]