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Title: Pretentious
Review: Les Enfants terribles, by Jean Cocteau I would characterize by the question: "How can I write a psychological drama which would make me look deep and artistic?". I think the author was involved in his own vanity to the extent that he came up with a very immature work. Don't get me wrong: I like psychologically intense works, that go deep into the human soul, but here it just feels forced, and most of all it is not well written. It doesn't flow, just feels pretentious.
