MATZNEFF IN MOROCCO, 1968
Gabriel Michel Hippolyte Matzneff (born 12 August 1936) is a prize-winning French writer, who began writing journals in 1953. Presented here are all the passages of Greek love interest concerning his stays in Morocco in 1966, taken from Vénus et Junon: Journal 1965-1969 (Venus and Juno: Journal 1965-69), published by la Table ronde in Paris in 1979. The translation is this website’s.
Matzneff was in Morocco in November 1968, for three weeks:
I note with amusement that in countries where pederasty plays an essential, almost official role, the newspapers are always full of vengeful accounts of matters of morality. I had already noticed this reading the Algerian and Tunisian press; and today, in le Petit Marocain: “who found guilty of rape this odious character who, on the night of 5 August 1967, perpetrated his unspeakable act on a twelve-year-old child, Ahmed Ben X.” The odious character was condemned to ten years in prison! At the same time, the tourists, with complete impunity … [pp. 228-9]
There is something dazzling and dizzying about this ease of pleasure in North Africa. It is true that in Paris too, one can fuck girls and boys of thirteen, but it is difficult and dangerous. Instead of here, where everything is so simple...
[...]
Marrakech again. Djemaa El Fna Place, the evening.
This perpetual hunt, this tireless consummation of fresh flesh, it’s paradise, but an infernal paradise. [p. 231]
Tuesday 26. […] I had already passed the small square bordering Djemaa El Fna Place when I was overtaken by a boy, who immediately started a conversation. He was small, pretty, with beautiful eyes, fine features, a puffed-up mouth, ad osculum parata.[1] I asked him how old he was. Fifteen.
Less than a hundred metres from the Saadi, we left the street for the shade of the palm trees. It was delicious. His kisses, both skilful and clumsy, his caresses, his embraces. We stayed like that for almost two hours. In the end, we were completely naked. This morning, returning to the scene of the crime, I noticed, not without a retrospective shudder, that the vegetation that hid us was nothing less than luxuriant and that any passer-by would have surprised us. But the night seemed dark and our enthusiasm for love was such that we did not consider there might have been a passer-by. And in fact, thanks to the protection of Priapus, god of gardens and lovers, there was none.
Young Azzedine, as my boy is called, has given me an appointment for this evening. I will go, after having dinner with Gilberte A. and two other members of the European colony in Marrakech. One has to do something for civilisation. [pp. 235-6]
Continue to Venus and Juno, 1965-69.
[1] “ad osculum parata” is Latin for “a prepared mouth.”