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Insatiable

Marie in Translation

by Ariane Lauren

Movie still from Marie Antoinette. Marie holds up a finger to her mouth coyly, while party goers stand behind her.

Pastel plates stack high to her right, nearly past her pouf coif. Roughly converting to 10 livres, the all-you-can-eat meal costs 1,800 yen. A 40-minute timer rings; Marie flouts it, for she isn’t finished yet. Cat-shaped pink macarons with sugar pearl dotted sakura buttercream, hanami dango, vanilla purin, and chocolate raspberry cake slices so small, you’d think she’d savour each nibble. Instead, she gulps them down Kirby-style. Single-filed confections keep coming on the carousel from the hidden kitchen. 

Whipping out her Japanese dictionary, she endeavors to chitchat with the hostesses between bites. “Watashi no namae wa Mariette desu.” The cafe staff giggle in secondhand embarrassment. All the shop girls knew who she was when she came strutting in wearing a bergère gown beneath a tattered denim jacket; there was no need for an alias. They’re getting paid, so they play along. “Anata no kodomo ga imasu ka?” Marie asks, pulling painted mini-portraits of her children from her beaded purse. “Sukina anime wa nan desu ka? Sailor Moon to Nana wa suki desu!” One hostess responds to her question, “Rose of Versailles takusan suki desu.” 

Marie’s heart suddenly begins to stammer as her eyes glaze over; her ears ring with musket fire, glass shattering, and her children wailing. Bracing her hands on the surface before her, she attempts to gain control over her shallow breathing. Feeling panicked and lost, a strawberry and cream crepe emerging from the back room catches her eye, waking her from her haze. 

Watching its journey around the counter, a tear strays down her powdered cheek leaving a trail of exposed skin. Her joy and appetite have left her. She feels sick and wants to throw up. Gathering her Susan Alexander Bertain bag and bidding the girls a half-hearted “Oyasuminasai.” Marie heads toward the hired car waiting outside. 

Before entering, she retches the buffet into the gutter. A queen wishing to be a princess again, Marie secures a solitary night at Tokyo Disneyland after hours. Cosplaying as Rapunzel, she’ll ride the Enchanted Tale of Beauty and the Beast three times before heading to Snow White’s Adventures.

Pastel plates stack high to her right, nearly past her pouf coif. Roughly converting to 10 livres, the all-you-can-eat meal costs 1,800 yen. A 40-minute timer rings; Marie flouts it, for she isn’t finished yet. Cat-shaped pink macarons with sugar pearl dotted sakura buttercream, hanami dango, vanilla purin, and chocolate raspberry cake slices so small, you’d think she’d savour each nibble. Instead, she gulps them down Kirby-style. Single-filed confections keep coming on the carousel from the hidden kitchen. 

Whipping out her Japanese dictionary, she endeavors to chitchat with the hostesses between bites. “Watashi no namae wa Mariette desu.” The cafe staff giggle in secondhand embarrassment. All the shop girls knew who she was when she came strutting in wearing a bergère gown beneath a tattered denim jacket; there was no need for an alias. They’re getting paid, so they play along. “Anata no kodomo ga imasu ka?” Marie asks, pulling painted mini-portraits of her children from her beaded purse. “Sukina anime wa nan desu ka? Sailor Moon to Nana wa suki desu!” One hostess responds to her question, “Rose of Versailles takusan suki desu.” 

Marie’s heart suddenly begins to stammer as her eyes glaze over; her ears ring with musket fire, glass shattering, and her children wailing. Bracing her hands on the surface before her, she attempts to gain control over her shallow breathing. Feeling panicked and lost, a strawberry and cream crepe emerging from the back room catches her eye, waking her from her haze. 

Watching its journey around the counter, a tear strays down her powdered cheek leaving a trail of exposed skin. Her joy and appetite have left her. She feels sick and wants to throw up. Gathering her Susan Alexander Bertain bag and bidding the girls a half-hearted “Oyasuminasai.” Marie heads toward the hired car waiting outside. 

Before entering, she retches the buffet into the gutter. A queen wishing to be a princess again, Marie secures a solitary night at Tokyo Disneyland after hours. Cosplaying as Rapunzel, she’ll ride the Enchanted Tale of Beauty and the Beast three times before heading to Snow White’s Adventures.