Liebes Arschloch

Rebecca is a film star, over fifty, and still doing well in the business. And she is furious. The writer Oscar, 43, recognised her by chance in the street and put up a sneering post about her on Instagram. She instantly shoots back at him: “Dear Arsehole, I’ve seen your post. You’re like a pigeon shitting on me as it flies past. Now I only hope that your children get run over by a truck and you are forced to watch their death throes, unable to do anything as their eyes burst out of their sockets. That’s my only wish for you.” However, his beef with Rebecca is not Oscar’s biggest problem. The much younger feminist blogger Zoé accuses him of harassing her when she worked as his press officer. She claims he abused his power for sexual purposes. Almost immediately Oscar becomes the most prominent persona non grata online. To begin with, Rebecca, Oscar and Zoé only have two things in common: they hate each other and find themselves alone in front of their computers during the pandemic. By continually writing to each other, however, an epistolary novel for the 21st century emerges that deals almost affectionately with friendship and anxiety, sex and drugs, failed hopes and great dreams.