Here’s the english translation:
To be honest I don’t know where this sixties portable was produced. It sounds a bit cheap, but it is all metal and runs extremely smooth.
It strikes me as a French attempt to appear American. What would be the ideal circumstances to use a device like this?
Don’t ask me why, but is see a glorious summer’s day, a car and a rest stop along the Route du Soleil, the southbound highway in France.
And who is the best imaginary user of this portable? I see a man in a hurry, a journalist pushing forty, a bit erratic, chain smoking and permanently drinking coffee, but always in a suit and with a look that betrays his confidence as a ladies’ man, with his shock of hair and playboy sunglasses. Point is, he hardly can afford to focus on his pose as a ladies’ man, because all his attention is absorbed by the effort to collect, write and send off his articles. In the center of this process sits this typewriter.
He is the kind of guy who likes to write in roadside diners, cafeterias etc. He also likes to be disturbed by waitresses who pity him: oh you have to work so hard, you want another cup of coffee, something sweet to go with it?
Do I have to add that whatever he writes isn’t way up there? He produces small reports and gossip stories, superficial articles on trends in beach wear, the opening of a new art gallery, without mentioning the art and just focussing on the celebrities and the champagne served at the opening.
This is the typewriter of a hounded blusterer.
(Hermes Baby 1967)