/lit/ - Literature

>>10321584
no, I think his love for clement is pure.

>He famously claims to be indifferent to the honours and attention he attracts. As we chat on the steps, a BBC film crew buzzes around us. Houellebecq waves them away with his fag smoke and we start to talk about dogs, in particular, his faithful pet, a Pembroke corgi called Clement, who has been left behind in the author's home near Dublin.

>'This is one of the difficulties of fame and travelling,' says Houellebecq. 'It is always hard to abandon him.' Houellebecq reminds me that this is the same breed as the Queen's dogs ('I am more English than the English', he jokes lamely). Then, for a brief moment, he looks genuinely near to tears, raising his doe eyes heavenward. 'The love of a dog is a pure thing,' he says. 'He gives you a trust which is total. You must not betray it.'

His dog died please do not bully it was his only real friend.