Maud Tardieu, Patrice Tardieu, the necessary, the common, the uncommon

Maud Tardieu, Patrice Tardieu, the necessary, the common, the uncommon

I would like to correct some mistaken image of Maud as a mother. She does not fit to such image. In London, after her divorce, she worked day and night, in an office and in a coffee shop. She came back home late and found me between empty milk bottles, an opened can of tomato concentrate and some pretzels. I had finished my home work and my Latin translation.

One day, we received a cheque of a certain amount, but, instead of buying clothes or food, she bought for me, with an enormous joy, an old second-hand saxophone, from which, as a matter of fact, no real sound could be obtained !

She was always in the uncommon, never the common way, the necessary was not forgotten but never the priority.

Written and translated from the French by Patrice Tardieu, Maud’s son.