20 April 2017

Simone de Beauvoir: Les Mandarins II (1954)

Simone de Beauvoir's Les Mandarins (a title referring to the intellectual status of the characters) scooped the Goncourt in 1954, its year of publication. The second part of it here begins at Chapter VI, following on from Les Mandarins I: the first edition was published (unlike these two paperback Folio volumes (also belonging to the original publisher)) in a single Gallimard edition.

Roman à clef is an expression often used of this 1000-page book, although it's not entirely easy to fit the characters neatly into the place of real characters. On the other hand, there are clear autobiographical elements, such as Anne Dubreuilh and her husband the intellectual writer character Robert Dubreuilh resembling the (unmarried) Beauvoir and her long-term companion Jean-Paul Sartre in an apparently open relationship.

There are strong similarities between Anne's relationship with the American author Lewis Brogan from Chicago and Beauvoir's relationship with the author Nelson Algren, who fall in love, visit the States and Mexico, meet for some weeks on three occasions and then part after Lewis goes somewhat cold on Anne on her final visit to Chicago.

Robert Dubreuilh's relationship with Henri Perron, particularly their ideological split, very clearly recalls Camus's split with Sartre, and there are several other characters in the book who can be said to share similarities with people who existed. A settling of accounts? A kind of guessing game? Maybe both, but also a highly rivetting novel about those whose peopled Beauvoir's life during the immediate post-war years.

11 April 2017

Marc Robine: Grand Jacques : Le Roman de Jacques Brel (1998)

I could write reams on the brilliance of Jacques Brel (1929–78), but there's no point. Bob Dylan (another of my songwriter loves) snagged the Nobel prize for Literature, and so rightly, in spite of what so many self-dubbed enthusiasts (for which read clueless enemies) may have thought of him. There's a division between literature and song-writing which sometimes gets blurred, and certainly Dylan and Brel (also Brassens, Cohen, Renaud, Morrissey, Pete Doherty, oh the list is endless) belong to a higher culture way beyond the mere writing of songs to entertain.

Marc Robine's Grand Jacques : Le Roman de jacques Brel is close to 700 pages, including interviews, discographies, etc. I've not yet read any other works on Brel, although I think I can firmly say that this exhaustive (and wonderfully exhausting) work is among the (if not the) best of all time.

This is no hagiography, and I'm sure Brel himself wouldn't have welcomed one: he was mildly homophobic for the time (David Bowie being dubbed as a 'queer'), more than mildly (I'm not too sure, as he was a pop god of a long gone era, so kind of untouchable) phallocratic in that he wasn't content with one woman, but on the plus side I didn't detect a single sniff of racism about him. As for champion of the underclasses?

Depends on what is meant by underclasses. Brel was generous with money and time, a kind of hero, and we have only to listen to his songs, performed with such showmanship, such theatricality, to understand his sympathy for outsiders, shy people, those stricken by alcoholism, by age or unrequited love, to realise that Jacques Brel was a master of many arts he attempted: singing, acting, writing, etc. This book is an immense tribute to the huge talent that was Brel. Chapeau bas, as Barbara would certainly have said.

Jérôme Garcin: Olivier (2011)

I learned a new word in Jérôme Garcin's  Olivier, both in French and in English: gemellologue, meaning 'gemellologist': gemellology is the study of twins. Jérôme Garcin was born on the stroke of midnight on 4 October 1956, and his brother Olivier just after. Only Jérôme is still alive, but his brother Olivier was killed in a traffic accident before his sixth birthday. Olivier the book is very much a gemellological study in itself, although of course from a very emotional as well as learned viewpoint.

Much of Olivier is addressed in the second person singular – tu – to the dead Olivier. The book is filled with recollections of Oliver (or as much as Jérôme Garcin can remember), with speculations as to what might have been, very much with a sense of loss, as if an appendage is missing from the author: one particularly poignant expression is 'looking for his vanished double in the broken mirror.' The remaining half of a severed twin may well seek his missing half in a surrogate, perhaps in the form of a platonic relationship with another person or with a sexual partner.

This then is a scholarly as well as an emotional work, detailing instances of twins in history as well as in literature. This is a fascinating book which possibly makes a few rather unusual digressions, but which I found particularly interesting in its mention of Irène Lézine's findings on two usages of language by twins: the everyday public talk to third persons, and the idiolect used by the twins and comprehensible only by them.

Very interesting indeed is Jérôme Garcin meeting Michel Tournier, of whose Les Météores I was unaware, but whose main concern is about twins. To read in the near future of course, but Olivier itself is so interesting and original that it demands to be read.

2 April 2017

Marjorie Ozanne, Vale, Guernsey

'MARJORIE EDITH
OZANNE
1897 – 1973.'

Marjorie Ozanne was born in Vale and wrote stories and poems in Guernesiaise, particularly for La Gazette de Guernesey in the 1920s, and the Guernsey Evening Press between 1949 and 1965. She was the daughter of a verger of Vale Church, and when he was ill took on his duties there. She founded the world's first bird hospital in Les Cordeliers, Guernsey, where she lived with her companion Nell Littlefield. Ken Hill translated her works, although he had the knowledge to realise the problems of translation and included Ozanne's work simultaneously with his own. She was buried in an unmarked grave until the Société Guernesiaise discovered it in 1988 and gave it this headstone.

Émilie de Putron in Foulon Cemetery, Guernsey

The importance of this grave is not only that Émilie de Putron was the fiancée of Victor Hugo's son François-Victor, but also that Victor Hugo wrote the inscription, which is unfortunately now virtually illegible. On the plus side, I found most of the inscription in a large and very informative fold-out leaflet at Hugo's Hauteville House, St Peter Port, Guernsey: 'Victor Hugo's Guernsey' by Gérard Pouchain and The Victor Hugo in Guernsey Society. However, the second of the three paragraphs on the monument is still in part illegible, so I don't transcribe it here. Another problem is that the person who inscribed the gravestone made one definite (and badly corrected) error in the orthography of the second paragraph, but also (it cetainly seems) a few errors of punctuation in the third paragraph. I transcribe what I see, in spite of the occasionally odd punctuation in the last paragraph:

À
la mémoire
de
ÉMILIE,
FILLE DE
MATTHIEU DE PUTRON,
SA FEMME.
DÉCÉDÉ LE 14 JANVIER 1803,
AGÉE DE TRENTE ANS.

Émilie De Putron était le doux orgueil
d'une respectable et patriarchale famille.
Ses amis et ses proches avaient pour
enchantement sa grâce et pour Joie son
sourire.

[...]

Émilie Du Putron est allée chercher
la-haut la félicité, suprême complément
des existances innocentes. Elle s'en
est allée jeunesse vers l'éternité beauté
vers l'idéal : espérance vers la certitude
amour, vers l'infini : perle vers l'océan ;
esprit vers Dieu.

                Va âme

                PAROLES DE VICTOR HUGO,
                        19 JANVIER 1865'