Anthony and Hélène's Closeness and Friction at Home
And Their Children After ThemAnthony and Hélène’s closeness is expressed less through easy conversation than through care, worry, and small acts of attention that both can find difficult to receive. As Anthony prepares to leave for the army, Hélène tries to make the departure safe and orderly, while he evades some of her preparations and reacts sharply to reminders. The contrast becomes clearest when she has laid out everything he will need: he is annoyed by her attention, yet moved by it, and understands that leaving means the end of childhood.
Home and Separate Rhythms
Hélène has made a home for herself and Anthony in an affordable one-story row house. Its small back garden, on land once occupied by an orchard, holds a few remaining trees; Anthony uses a plum tree to support his pull-up bar. At ten in the morning, he exercises there with a weighted belt, completing five sets of twenty pull-ups before continuing with sit-ups, push-ups, and stretches. He studies his reflection in the kitchen’s glass door and is satisfied with his lean, defined physique. The garden is at once part of his mother’s domestic space and a place where he pursues a private routine of discipline and self-presentation.
Their daily habits do not always meet comfortably. When Hélène asks what he is doing, Anthony answers that he is doing nothing. Later, after drinking mineral water, he closes the refrigerator with his foot and stretches. Hélène objects to the amount of exercise, warning that he may hurt himself. Her concern is not simply about exertion: watching his developed back and arms, she sees a physical force that recalls violence and fears what it might mean. Anthony, by contrast, treats exercise as an ordinary part of his day and responds by saying he will take a shower. The exchange shows how a familiar domestic gesture can carry different meanings for mother and son: self-control to him, the possibility of harm to her.
Hélène’s Anxiety About His Departure
In the week before Anthony is due to leave, Hélène repeatedly presses him about practical preparations, especially whether he has checked the train schedules. He says that he has, but he is lying. Her repeated questions are part of a wider effort to anticipate problems: she makes lists, loses sleep, and worries about unlikely mishaps. The timetable becomes a focus for anxieties that cannot be resolved simply by checking a departure time. Anthony lets her talk, even as he withholds the reassurance she is seeking.
Her worry is rooted in a longer struggle to make life work. Hélène has tried for years to keep things together, and the effort has left her exhausted by the conflicts and obstacles that repeatedly interrupt her hope for peace. When she reminds Anthony that he is leaving the next day and that arriving late could mean being treated as a deserter, he answers impatiently. Her warning is concrete, but it also carries the accumulated weight of her fear for him and her wish that this transition go without another shock. Anthony hears another demand; Hélène is trying to hold a difficult departure within the limits of what she can plan.
Conflict at the Table
At dinner, Hélène’s reminder that Anthony is leaving tomorrow prompts another irritated response. The meal then continues in silence. She barely eats, watching him finish the food she has prepared: he takes a second serving of meat and macaroni and has two yogurts for dessert. The difference between them is plain in the scene. Hélène’s attention remains fixed on her son and on the impending separation; Anthony concentrates on eating, offering no sustained conversation to bridge the distance.
Eventually, Hélène tells him that he can do whatever he likes because it is his life. The permission does not erase her anxiety, but it marks a limit: she cannot make the choice for him, or keep him at home by worrying. After loading the dishwasher, she lights a cigarette and comes to sit with him while he turns on the television. Their shared room and evening routine persist even when the conversation has failed. The quiet companionship does not resolve their disagreement; it shows how their bond continues alongside it.
Care, Departure, and Recognition
When Anthony goes to pack, Hélène has already arranged his belongings on the bed: ironed T-shirts, shirts, underwear, socks, clean jeans, and a new toilet kit stocked with everyday necessities. The care is exact and practical. She has thought through what he might forget and placed it all within reach. Anthony is irritated by the intervention, but also touched by it. Beneath the friction, he recognizes the labor of a mother trying to equip her son for a life in which she will not be managing each detail.
He finds two Snickers bars hidden beneath the stack of T-shirts. That small addition changes the emotional force of the packed clothes. His throat tightens, and he understands that this departure is final in a way earlier departures were not: childhood is over. He reflects that being a minor had protected him even as he got into trouble, and that adulthood would bring consequences without the same guarantee of second chances. The army offers him another place to hide, where following orders will be enough. Hélène’s careful packing cannot prevent that uncertainty, but it gives their parting a tangible form: the clothes and supplies are orderly, while the feelings attached to them are not.
The Bond Beneath the Friction
Their relationship is shaped by an imbalance between Hélène’s efforts to protect and Anthony’s resistance to being managed. She worries over timetables, meals, and what he will need; he lies about one preparation, brushes off her warnings, and reacts impatiently when she reminds him of his obligations. Yet the evidence does not present their distance as indifference. Hélène watches him closely, prepares for his departure in detail, and tries to make a peaceful home; Anthony’s response to the hidden sweets reveals that he registers the affection in her work even when he resents its intrusiveness.
The final preparations bring their closeness and friction into the same frame. Hélène cannot remove the risks of the world Anthony is entering, and he cannot accept her care without some irritation. His departure thus separates them while making visible what ordinary exchanges often obscure: her practical attentiveness is an expression of attachment, and his being moved by it is an acknowledgment of the bond. The relationship remains unresolved, but the packed bag, the food, and the concealed chocolate give the separation a tenderness neither of them articulates directly.
