Boris Vian is a legend. The "trumpet" in the cellars of Saint-Germain des Prés, the Deserter, the poet of The foam of days, the pornographer of I'll go spit on your graves, the pataphysician and the engineer. Emaciated face, silhouette all in bone, it has become an emblem which, between Gréco and Sartre, sums up an era, a nostalgia. His investigation begins with the boisterous childhood in Ville-d'Avray, before the war. Zazou evenings. The death of the father, murdered. The hope of a real literary career, between Gallimard and Modern times. the nights of Taboo. Jazz. A frenetic production, projects, songs, plays, novels. The scandal of I will go and spit. A life of hardship too and the disease that gnawed at him. The setbacks. The lost and found loves. the end marked by the irony of fate,.