did take a lot of them, more and more, and women twice as many as men.
‘But, even so, half of all depressive illnesses still go undiagnosed and untreated,’ Clara went on.
It was true; Hector sometimes saw people who had suffered from depression for years without ever receiving treatment. On the other hand, a lot of people took antidepressants without really needing them. But of course the pharmaceutical company was less concerned about that.
As he watched Clara, who was such a good speaker, so confident and so elegant in her white linen suit, Hector felt quite proud that a girl like her had chosen him out of all the men who chased after her. When he remembered all the effort he had put into it at the time, and the crabs fighting on the beach, he resolved to write in his notebook:
Seedling no. 3: You cannot win someone’s love without a fight.
Clara talked about the new antidepressant the company would soon launch onto the market, which would be more effective and better tolerated than all the others. With this one even the most depressed people would be singing and dancing in the street.
Gunther thanked Clara for her ‘brilliant contribution’ and Hector noticed this upset Marie-Claire, the tall redhead, a little bit. But, well, that’s the way it always is in companies.
‘We have talked about antidepressants,’ said Gunther, ‘to give you an idea of how we see the future. But, in reality, depression will soon be a thing of the past, from our point of view, in any case. It will soon be just a question of monitoring people.’
The phrase ‘monitoring people’ sent a slight shiver down Hector’s spine, although Gunther wasn’t wrong.
‘… but depression is an illness,’ Gunther went on, ‘and people today don’t just want their illnesses cured, they want to be healthy, meaning they want to enjoy “physical and mental well-being”. Those aren’t my words – they come from the World Health Organization. In short, people want to be ha-ppy!’
And Gunther let out a big booming laugh that showed off his splendid teeth. All the young people smiled.
From time to time, the tall maître d’hôtel from the evening before and a young waitress in a sarong came in to serve them coffee, and Hector said to himself that they probably weren’t worried about being ‘ha-ppy’, but about feeding their families. He knew that the price of a room for one night in that hotel was equivalent to two months’ average wages in the country to which the island belonged and, at the same time, this provided jobs for a lot of people who could then support their whole family.
He also noticed that every time the young girl came in, the old psychiatrist, François, followed her tenderly with his gaze. And when she left François looked a little sad. Hector thought that one day he would be like François, and that made him feel a little sad, too.
‘They’re right to want to be happy,’ said Ethel. ‘That’s what life is all about!’
Ethel herself always looked happy – anyone would think she secreted the company’s new antidepressant in her own brain. During the night, Hector had gone out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air and had seen a tall figure coming out of Ethel’s bungalow.
‘Well,’ said Gunther, ‘I think we all agree with that evaluation of happiness. So, what is it in your opinion, besides illness, accidents and financial problems, that most stops people from being happy?’
There was a long silence. You could tell that everybody had ideas, but nobody dared to be the first to speak. Hector hesitated, because he wondered whether it was a good idea to bring up his idea without first having spoken to Clara about it, since this meeting was important to her and he had to consider her, too. But he had his own opinion about what stopped people from being happy.
‘Love.’
Everybody looked at the old psychiatrist, François. It was he who had spoken. As previously mentioned, Hector liked him a lot.
OLD François looked out to sea as he spoke, as though the sight of it inspired him. And everybody listened in complete silence.
‘Love,’ he said, ‘a sickness of the body to which the mind consents. Not my words, unfortunately. Love certainly provides our greatest joys, although that word is inadequate; our greatest ecstasies, we might say. That movement towards the other, that moment when our dream becomes reality, that state of grace where at last we think of something other than ourselves, that meeting of bodies that makes us immortal, for a few moments at least, that transformation of the everyday in the presence of the loved one, ah … When their face is engraved on our heart, except that sometimes …’ He sighed. ‘Because love brings such suffering, oceans of suffering … spurned love, loving too much, a lack of love, the death of love, alas …
‘What is left of our loving ways?
What is left of those sunny days …
Faded joys and windswept tresses
Stolen kisses and caresses
What is left of the love we knew?
Tell me now I beg of you …’
He finished the song, and Hector saw to his great surprise that Clara’s eyes were glistening with tears. Old François suddenly noticed that everyone looked full of emotion, and he seemed to rouse himself.
‘Forgive me, my friends, I got a little carried away; I just wanted to answer your question about what can make people unhappier.’
There was a brief silence. Gunther smiled and took the floor again. ‘Thank you for your very remarkable rendition. Listening to you makes me feel as if I am truly hearing the language of love!’
In the meantime, the young girl in the sarong had returned, this time carrying a tray of fruit juice, and again old François followed her with forlorn eyes.
‘And now,’ Gunther went on, ‘I turn to you, dear Ethel. I’d like to hear your opinion, which, I believe, is different.’
‘Yes, it certainly is!’ She turned to the old psychiatrist. ‘My dear François, you painted a marvellous, if somewhat sad, portrait of love for us. But, after all, how dreary life would be without love! It is love that transports us, that fills us with joy! Love turns life into one long adventure, every encounter is a dazzling experience – well, not always, of course, but in actual fact, it is our less successful love affairs that enable us to appreciate the others. I think love protects us from one of the biggest problems facing the modern world: boredom. Because, well, the lives we lead are so safe – I mean in our countries, of course – that love is the only adventure we have left. Hurrah for love, which keeps us forever young!’
And, indeed, when you looked at Ethel, who was no longer exactly young but who had such a youthful air, you said to yourself that love certainly seemed to agree with her.
Gunther appeared delighted. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘what a joyous description of love you have given us, dear Ethel. And how joyful love is, to be sure! Speaking of which, if you’ll allow me …’
Gunther rose to his full height and began singing in a fine bass voice.
‘L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore …
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two …’
All the women round