Stéphane is in a bad way. She hasn't been able to sleep since an old man sat on her every night. And yet, as a doctor at La Palmeraie, Stéphane has no choice: every morning, she has to go to work, to care, to look after. So Stéphane smokes, drinks coffee and talks to Françoise Sagan, whom she crosses every morning on her way to the hospital. Or maybe it's her park (which she walks through).
Stéphane isn't quite sure. Who's in trouble? Her or the others? And who to believe? Grandma, aged 93, who gives birth to a stillborn Mike at the Palmeraie, or Joséphine, her obese little hottie, who has her stomach cut open by Daronne, who is determined to put a gastric band in her "for her own good"? Operating, vivisecting, opening up and cutting into the fat could well be pointless, when the ghosts of the past come to haunt the nights and a mysterious bluish-black man turns up at the door, who could well be the ghost of another child, the "collateral damage" of a conflict that just won't go away. Claire Barrabès explores the transmission of trauma and epigenetics. She also draws on her previous research into rape as a weapon of war.

EXTRACT FROM ANNE MONFORT'S NOTE OF INTENT
When I read Entre s’en foutre et en creverit seemed to me that Claire Barrabès had reached an uncommon level of precision and intensity. The text appealed to me because of its dimension of historical investigation, of the search for meaning across generations, and because of the assignations that this text tells us about women's bodies, at the intersection of the intimate and the political. The precision of the language, rhythmic and rhapsodic, brings a musicality that creates an obvious poetic theatrical space. So I wanted to bring this project to the stage, to make these meanders of memory heard and seen, hidden and revealed, by working on the tableaux and the spaces.