When I heard it, I was very strong at sixteen to erase everything, and it continues. Yet, by dint of ranting without thinking, I began to prove to her and to prove to me that I am stuffed in funny situations. If someone had told me yesterday: you acted like the worst voyeur, to surprise a couple in bed, I would not have believed. It came back in my mind, in front of this girl in his chair. I felt his breath on my skin, incredible what it inspires me. Almost in spite of myself, I reconstructed the forgotten scene. And others. She will eventually convince me that I'm hiding something from her. That I'm hiding something? Like the impression of meeting a stranger named Jeff Valdera. And in the unknown genre, she asks herself here too, with her insistent questions ... During his stays with his aunt in Davos, at the Hotel Waldheim, the teenager Jeff Valdera would have been only a pawn on a chessboard where confronted East and West at the time of the Cold War? Inventing your memory or inventing your life? This is the question that François Vallejo tries to answer with Waldheim Hotel, his most intimate novel. But is not this the same quest that crosses his work for twenty years, whether in Madame. Angeloso (France Télévisions prize), Ouest (prize of the Inter Book) or Un dangereux plaisir?--Viviane Hamy.
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