FRENCH DRAMAS (synopsises written by French students)

Two drafts were produced by pupils from the targeted group in LYCEE RAVEL

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From IZEN GABEA synopsis were taken the Basque Vampire character acting in the Transnational show.

From MEMENTO MORI were made a little show to be played by French students.

BDF plage

Le synopis "Memento Mori" a servi de support à l'écriture du dialogue devant être joué par les élèves Français. C'est dans le récit intitulé "Izen Gabea" qu'on a pris le personnage éponyme intervenant dans la scène finale du spectacle transnational : "L'itinéraire d'un vampire" .

Izen Gabea.

No one had ever heard about him except my family. As long as I can remember he had always lived here, in our town. He was a quiet and lonely person but he was also a very kind man, full of generosity, attached to his values. However, Izen Gabea had always been a mystery for us. We never knew where he came from and why, strangely, he was never getting old. Izen Gabea was Basque and surprisingly it was his strength. He loved his country

more than he loved himself ; he was proud of it, he was living for it. He used to say that he had lived there for 300 years, and when he was telling his stories, he sounded as if he was out of his mind. He said that he had lived the sheperds' exodus to the United States for example and that he had eventually come back home, to his house.

His home, you have to be Basque to understand the importance of these two words. His home ... It took an important place in Izen Gabeat s heart and it hurt him to see his beloved hills full of cranes. He always hated these new houses which were rising from the ground and which were wasting every landscapes. These new houses depend on the law of the market; they have big windows and terrace roofs, they are painted white and grey. Izen Gabea hated them. People came here and changed the Basque country's landscapes with their tastes. A week ago, Izen Gabea said: enough is enough.

He went to see a Basque sports game called "Basque strength" last Saturday afternoon. He proudly watched the perfectly organized players pulling a heavy rope to win. It was amazing!

Izen Gabea had been fascinated by this show for 300 years now. The weather was very nice: there were just a few clouds in the blue sky and the sun was shining. Izen Gabea was not in a hurry to go back home so he decided to walk to the new neighborhoods that he usually avoided. « All these high buildings are making me sick ... » He was tthinking while he was looking at the new constructions. On this hill, he was facing absolute chaos: the landscape was wasted by the developers. These people were parasites!

Izen Gabea suddenly felt very angry. A strength began to burn his heart, his eyes became unusually red, his skin paler, and unexpectedly his violence burst out. He had been keeping this anger for 300 years and now as it came out it totally destroyed these awful houses which had wasted the Basque Identity! However, Izen gabea had avenged the land of our ancestors.

When I saw this man that night, on the path that leads to his house, I didn't recognize him. He was scary and beautiful at the same time, he was also taller and more tired than before. 1--1e waved at me and asked me to lead him to his house. He confessed that he was going to die soon, and that he was the guardian of traditions and the Basque lands. He also confessed that he needed a successor. At first, I didn't understand what he had said, I thought He had drunk too much wine, and when he asked me if I agreed to become his successor, I nodded. I realised much later that I had accepted to sacrifice my life.l have a name today, but I will be Izen Gabea soon. Izen Gabea means "without a name" in Basque, and soon people will forget mine.

We are Izen Gabea, " without a name" until the end of time, and as long as we are here, the

Basque Country will exist

Memento Mori 

Anne-Marie had spent all her summer vacation in her family home in St Jean de Luz.

After a long journey, she had placed her suitcase on the train station platform for her last trip to her childhood beach. A suitcase that had become too heavy for her old muscles and weak legs.

She wanted to look at the sea before going to the house that kept, she hoped, her childhood memories. She had come to know this beach when there were only peddlers. She had always liked to admire the lights coming from the lighthouses that led the boats in the fog.

That night, though, she didn't experience that feeling of confidence the way she used to. Perhaps she felt lost in the thick darkness of her sick soul. At the first shivers, her eyes looked away and her legs took her to this house that she hardly recognised.

Juliette trembled as she heard a suitcase in the cobblestones. Was that possible? Was Anne-Marie back? She went down the gutter and saw an old woman, stooped and tired who was approaching the green door. The time that didn't affect Juliette had destroyed the beautiful body of her friend. When Anne-Marie told Juliette at the end of a summer that she wouldn't come back the year after, Juliette swore to herself that she would wait for her. She wanted to get the best moments of her life back, those nights she spent with Anne-Marie and their friends at the beach, when they danced, sang, drank, laughed and had fun. She got over her endless loneliness when she met Anne-Marie. She experienced the soft sand under her feet at sunset, felt the smell of the sea and the taste of the salt in her skin. She had long deserted the beach in the daytime scorching sun. (?) Two ice creams bought at Lopez that she never tasted, but Anne-Marie ate happily. Everything came back to her with a fuzzy feeling inside and she whispered to herself: "Anne-Marie is back"

The next morning Anne-Marie heard someone knocking at the door. A young woman dressed in a pink blouse was standing on the doorstep.

"Who are you?" asked Anne-Marie.

"I am Eloise. I've been sent by the home help services. Your daughter asked for it. I'll come every morning and evening to help you and make sure everything's all right."

'My daughter?" Said Anne-Marie shyly. "Good, very good. Come in" In the late afternoon Eloise opened the door to a young girl.

"Who are you?", asked Eloise

'My name is Juliette. l... I am... Anne-Marie's granddaughter". It's her birthday today. I have bought a birthday cake to celebrate. Is she here?"

"Yes. She will be happy to have company. Come in."

At the end of a long corridor, sitting in a rocking-chair, Anne Marie was staring at the sea from the balcony. "You have company!" said Eloise, "your granddaughter has come for your birthday!". Slowly, the old woman turned around and gave Juliette an empty look, a desert

She was tired by life and the passing of time that changes

of wrinkles, hollow cheeks ...

everything. "You know that she has the illness that makes you forget?" whispered the nurse. If Juliette had blood in her veins it would have frozen. Finding her friend was her reason to survive, but if she was nothing but a ghost, her hope fell apart. The candle on the cake was consumed. A last glint of light shined in Anne-Marie's eyes before it disappeared. Juliette heard: "Come sit by my side, my little girl" said Anne-Marie with an empty voice, as if it was an information that she had just learnt. On the bookshelf, full of dust, she noticed a photo album of the vacations they had shared. Gently, while Eloise was in the kitchen cutting the cake, Juliette started talking. She gave her their friends' names, reminded her of the details, she plunged with Anne-Marie into the rubbles of her past memory, she desperately turned the album pages to go back in time and find their friendship. Anne-Marie didn't understand right away that something wasn't right. She heard a voice that sounded familiar, just like the young girl by her side. Images emerged from the holes of her memory. Suddenly, she screamed: "You're not my grandchild! You're the girl in these pictures that stands beside me! But how is this possible? How? Who are you?". Juliette tried to calm her down, to hold her tight, but Anne-Marie screamed and tried to fight it. Eloise came back and tried to separate them and made Juliette leave the house. The door slammed on the most beautiful memories of their lives.

Alone again, in the city and in eternity.

Juliette knew that it was the last time.

Her already dead legs took her to the hill of Sainte Barbe. How cruel time is: fast for Anne-

Marie, barely alive, and so slow for someone half dead. Ending it now was the only way, since her dream of living with Anne-Marie for the rest of her life was just an illusion / a dream. Her eternal youth, became her worst nightmare. Her right hand was holding a ripped off picture of the album. She lay down at the top of the hill, under the moon. She fell asleep, with the ripped photograph against her heart. With the first rays of sun, she felt a soft heat

that reminded her of the soft sand in those summer nights. Her face twitched, the photograph fell on the ground, and she disappeared in flames.

When the nurse opened the door the next morning, she found Anne-Marie in the rocking-chair, the photo album on her lap. On the last picture of Juliette and Anne-Marie a shaking

I understand. Thank you for those moments." Her heart had stopped

hand had written •

beating but a smile lingered on her face shining under the morning sunlight.


partenariat ERASMUS+ NUITS BLANCHES NBE+ 2015-2018 et eTwinning ILARGIA / coordination internationale Vanderplancke P-L / EUROPEAN LEAGUE OF TEACHERS SINCE 2018