Always Chasing The Story: Ozon's In the House

Exactly how much of ourselves are we ready to give up for a good escapist fantasy?

François Ozon's satirical film In the House (2012) is a quintessential culmination of literary writing and criticism aggravated with a grain of voyeurism. As the framing narrative characterized by unreliable narration reinforces this relationship between the French teacher Germain and his young pupil Claude accompanied by the student’s fictious presentation blurring the line between fiction and reality, Germain is eventually and entirely consumed by this constructed illusionary realm. In the end, we as the viewer are left with one lingering question: How much are we willing to sacrifice for a good story? And furthermore, exactly how much of ourselves are we ready to give up for a good escapist fantasy?

Reading has always been a favorite hobby of mine. It has cost me more than two thirds of my life, one year of therapy, and endless consumption of online content to realize my consumption of literature has always been a form of escapism. This consummation has led to me to inquiry the function and the characteristics of the innate human desire for fantasy. In Ozon’s In the House, the young protégé Claude’s fabrication of a story likewise captures Germain; ultimately driving Germain to departure from every bit of his reality and consequently leaving him attached only to Claude and his narrative. Due to his positioning as the reader, Germain's literary consumption is undoubtedly an escapist mirror image of mine.

Although it can now be concluded that Germain is devoured by Claude’s narrative, one question remains: Why? Why does Germain become so attached to Claude’s story? Claude’s disdain towards his friend and his upper-middle class family can be logically interpreted as the root of his literary inspiration. Once his desire is accurately identified to be characterized by lack, apparent in his central-to-the-narrative desire to be in the house; his construction of narratives which start and end with him being in the house, as emphasized by the title, become apparent; yet he is a mere voyeur who is forever positioned outside the house and the family. Claude derives his muses from lack and his subversive fantasy as the byproduct is founded upon it.

On the other hand, Germain appears to have everything Claude does not: the love interest, the house, the money, the job... Nonetheless, Germain’s dissolvement in the narrative can similarly be traced back to lack: Germain himself is not a writer. He confides in Claude early in the film's narrative that he cannot write stories. Just as Claude is outside the house who wishes to be inside, Germain too is just a literary teacher and critique who truly desperately aspires to be a literary writer, aware of this inattainability. Thence, it can be negotiated that both Claude and Germain are doomed to be consumed by narrative for the same inherent reason, namely lack, but in different placements: one as the writer, and the other as the reader.

Although both characters appear to assume two opposing identities, their identities begin to merge as the reality begins to disintegrate for Germain. He too becomes an active participant in constructing narratives with Claude in the end once completely stripped from the crumbs of reality. Thus, the relationship between the writer and the reader can be outlined as this cathartic preoccupying feast which dissolves identities in the domain of the narrative. In essence, both the reader and the writer are echo each other as they are star-crossed to always chase the story. Identities are forever postponed in an attempt to escape from lack as one engages with literature as the action of courting fantasy rises above the idea of becoming a subject.