The Tennant

“Suddenly, the only thing I realized was that I was running out of air. What kind of feeling is that? I couldn’t compare it to anything else in my life. I fought desperately to breathe, twitching, jerking, moving, trying to understand what was happening to me. I couldn’t see anything around me—only that I was fighting for air.

And then, just as suddenly, I stopped fighting for air. It seems to me that was the moment when my entire odyssey—from my landlord to my sea—took place, in that instant when I decided to let go, to stop struggling for air. At that moment, I remember, I was laughing. I wondered if it was possible that I had taken myself so seriously.

Then everything went quiet. Everything turned black. Everything became meaningless…”

— The Tenant

“I’m someone from the last century, and I’ve been waiting for a new voice in my language—one that isn’t polished, correct, bleached, clever, obediently chasing the stick and running after its own tail. And I’ve finally found it.

 A resonant voice—cynical yet tender, sentimental yet alienated—that whispers about a new kind of people: nameless, jobless, homeless, thoughtless, and dreamless. A very powerful voice. A deeply moving story. And a funny one, too.”