Emmanuelle 8 (part five)

Sunday, June 13, 2021

I answered the door, and this time I just opened it wide. The bellboy brought a portable turntable and came into the room. Following him was another gentleman who was carrying an LP under his arm. “Keep on what you are doing; we’re just going to set up the sounds.” When he said that, I went back to my seat and Emmanuelle got on my lap again. As the bellboy set up the equipment and placed the album that the gentleman was holding onto the turntable, he got up and left. But before exiting, he held out his hand, expecting a tip. The gentleman went over to him and gave him some sort of currency, which I know nothing about, due to being that this is the first time for me in Bangkok.

The gentleman sat on the floor beside me, Emmanuelle, and Just with his woman. “My name is Pierre Bachelet, and I co-wrote the music on this album.” As my hands were full, I nodded my head “yes.” I wrote and recorded this Music with Hervé Roy, a friend of mine from the music industry in Paris. He then paused and looked around for something to drink, but nothing there, and went on. “I have been obsessed with Emmanuelle’s beauty for a while now. I knew her mother, and we, how do I say this properly, well, we knew each other well.” I again nodded my head. “I’m going to play the album for you now. He took a brief look at the other couple “and for you as well.”

Bachelet went over by the portable record player, turned it on, and then came back where he sat beside me, by my feet. He brought the cover for me to look at, but he just held it in front of my face since my hands were occupied. The music came on, and the first cut is a beautiful melody. It fit Emmanuelle perfectly and how I feel about her presence, Even as a muse, but I’m not a poet, just a horny lad. The next song came on, and it was the same melody but slightly arranged differently. And then the next, same theme, but with a different feel or touch. By the end of side one, I realized that this is basically one melody but played in other arrangements. It intrigued me so much that I placed Emmanuelle gently on the bed and took the album cover into my hands. Like many, I love to listen to music and study the front and back cover. There is a visual aspect of music that can’t be underestimated.

I notice small lettering on the back saying the music is performed by King Crimson. I have heard of this brand, but can’t place where? I asked Bachelet about this band. “Five years ago, the entire band was in love with Emmanuelle. There was jealousy among the group, and the leader finally said enough is enough.” He paused and went on. “Their leader wrote a violent song based on a sexual encounter with Emmanuelle. It’s on the album.” Bachelet got up and walked around the room. He steps over Just and the other woman as they were in a deep conversation among themselves. Bachelet came back to me and got on his knees. “Relationships between men when it concerns a woman is often complicated.” I again nodded my head. I really felt I had nothing to offer in this one-sided conversation because I’m even totally sure why I’m in this room with these people.

Side two is playing, and there are two songs that are different from the rest of the soundtrack. I think it’s called “Opium Den,” which is exotic (of course), and hand drums are being played, a discontent sax with cymbals going from the left speaker to the right. As I looked around the room, the music made perfect sense. The next song is called ‘Rape,” and it’s a mighty beast with a violent horn section. Bachelet got up from the ground and in a louder tone in his voice “, and this is the song that has caused a major headache.” He faced the wall and put his nose against it, and slowly turned around. “He felt he wrote this song.” Heading toward the record player to look at the label as it spins at the speed of 33 1/3, he said, “music is a spiritual force, and one can’t control music. He sat at the edge of the bed and patted Emmanuelle’s knee. “It’s like controlling Emmanuelle, which is impossible.” He then put his head on her lap and started crying. Just and the girl finished what they were doing, and without a word, as not to disturb us, he and her went by the window opened it, and carefully left the room.

Emmanuelle placed her hands on Bachelet’s head. As side two ended, and I have to say in an attractive manner, I took the cover by the record player. I placed the record in the sleeve, and I looked back and saw Emmanuelle and Bachelet in their private world. It is evident that I should leave. I placed the album under my arm, and I, too, left the hotel room by the window.

The Emmanuelle theme song written by Bachelet and Roy. English lyrics by Ken Howard and Alan Blaikley:

“Echo in the night, I found the light, Emmanuelle ...

Memories that haunt my brain.

Laughter in the dark, a chance remark, Emmanuelle,

Sounding like a sad refrain.

Face of a child,

Rain in your hair,

Tears in your eyes ...

Now you're not there.

Nothing's the same,

Nothing is real;

I never guessed

How lost I'd feel.

Echo in the night, I found the light, Emmanuelle ...

Memories that haunt my brain.

Laughter in the dark, a chance remark, Emmanuelle,

Sounding like a sad refrain.

Counting the days,

Visions of you,

I sit alone,

Places we knew.

Pleasures we found,

Games that we played,

Secrets we shared,

Love that we made.

If it was love,

How would it show?

Was I the first?

I'll never know.

Something inside,

Some strange desire

Deep into you

Burns like a fire.

Echo in the night, I found the light, Emmanuelle ...

Memories that haunt my brain.

Laughter in the dark, a chance remark, Emmanuelle,

Sounding like a sad refrain.”