Cet âge où les hommes deviennent vulnérables

"No country for old men" a douze an maintenant... J'en gardais un bon souvenir quoique flou. Et je me rappelais distinctement regretter avoir eu une attention flottante durant ce qui s'était avéré être la scène finale.

Sheriff Bell, usé par une longue carrière, secoué par sa dernière enquête, inquiet de ce que sera sa vie une fois retraité, est assis dans sa cuisine. Il s'approche de...

"cet âge où les hommes deviennent vulnérables, leurs forces s'en vont, ils ont peur de tomber de l'échelle, de ne plus pouvoir se défendre si on les attaque, de perdre la vue, les dents, la vie" (*)

Il raconte un rêve à sa femme.

Okay. Two of 'em. Both had my father. It's peculiar. I'm older now'n he ever was by twenty years. So in a sense he's the younger man. Anyway, first one I don't remember so well but it was about meetin' him in town somewheres and he give me some money and I think I lost it. The second one, it was like we was both back in older times and I was on horseback goin' through the mountains of a night.
 
...goin' through this pass in the  mountains. It was cold and snowin', hard ridin'. Hard country. He rode past me and kept on goin'. Never said nothin' goin' by. He just rode on past and he had his blanket wrapped around him and his head down... ...and when he rode past I seen he was carryin' fire in a horn the way people used to do and I could see the horn from the light inside of it. About the color of the moon. And in the dream I knew that he was goin' on ahead and that he was fixin' to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold, and I knew that whenever I got there he would be there.

And then I woke up.

Joel et Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men (2007)

(*) :

Je cite Isabelle Monnin (Les gens dans l'enveloppe), livre que je referme ce jour