By Christos Zabounis

Hymn to Freedom

As the years go by, I distance myself from dwelling on the past and avoid, like the devil avoids incense, the narcissistic reminders, through photographs with celebrities, that surface when they leave this vain world. For Brigitte Bardot, I will make an exception, though not with images. The main reason is that she “shattered the mirror.” What do I mean by that? To withdraw from the spotlight at the height of one’s glory, at the age of just thirty-nine, is a supreme act of liberation from the tyranny of one’s own image. “I am a woman like all others (…) yet my soul no longer belongs to me. I cannot live as I wish. My existence is merely subterranean,” she would later explain her decision. In 1989, on the occasion of a series of programs dedicated to the defense of animals (S.O.S. animaux), I asked her to grant me an interview for the newspaper Eleftheros Typos, for which I was then a correspondent in Paris. She accepted with what I would describe as youthful enthusiasm, as she declared her love for our country and its culture. In that interview, she elaborated on her ideas regarding the ban on the trade of products made from baby seal skin – a personal victory of hers – the mistreatment of wild animals in circuses, the prohibition of bullfighting, the abandonment of pets, and more. She set one non-negotiable condition: that we would not speak of her former life – her acting career, politics, or her personal affairs. Once hailed as a muse of the Left when she supported Algerian independence, she was later accused of being a far-right fascist when she expressed sympathy for Marine Le Pen, on the grounds that the French leader is an animal lover. I recall a visit to Saint-Tropez in the early years of this century, when tourists futilely tried to spot her from the sea, using binoculars. She herself remained inaccessible until the very end, “Free though besieged.”