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螣 蟿蠈蟺慰蟼
螚 Annie Ernaux 渭蔚 伪蠁慰蟻渭萎 蟿畏谓 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏萎 蟿畏蟼 蔚渭蟺蔚喂蟻委伪 纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 纬喂伪 蠈位伪 蠈蟽伪 蟽蠀谓未苇慰蠀谓 伪位位维 魏伪喂 伪蟺慰渭伪魏蟻蠉谓慰蠀谓 蟿慰蠀蟼 蟺伪蟿蔚蟻维未蔚蟼 伪蟺蠈 蟿喂蟼 魏蠈蟻蔚蟼 伪谓伪位蠉慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿喂 蟽畏渭伪委谓蔚喂 谓伪 蠂维谓蔚喂蟼 苇谓伪谓 纬慰谓喂蠈, 蟿伪 蟺伪喂蠂谓委未喂伪 蟺慰蠀 蟺伪委味蔚喂 畏 渭谓萎渭畏, 蟿畏 蟽蟿伪未喂伪魏萎 伪蟺慰尉苇谓蠅蟽畏 伪谓维渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蔚 维蟿慰渭伪 未喂伪蠁慰蟻蔚蟿喂魏蠋谓 纬蔚谓喂蠋谓 魏伪喂 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏蠋谓 蟿维尉蔚蠅谓. 螝伪胃蠋蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 蟿畏 味蠅萎 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪蟿苇蟻伪 蟿畏蟼, 蟽蠀渭蠁喂位喂蠋谓蔚蟿伪喂 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠁伪蟿慰 胃维谓伪蟿蠈 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 渭蔚 蠈,蟿喂 蔚魏蔚委谓慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 魏位畏蟻慰未蠈蟿畏蟽蔚 蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰, 蠈蟺蠅蟼 畏 委未喂伪 位苇蔚喂 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏维, 芦伪谓伪纬魏维蟽蟿畏魏伪 谓伪 伪蟺慰蠂蠅蟻喂蟽蟿蠋 蠈蟿伪谓 渭蟺萎魏伪 蟽蟿慰谓 魏蠈蟽渭慰 蟿蠅谓 渭慰蟻蠁蠅渭苇谓蠅谓 伪蟽蟿蠋谓禄.
芦螌渭慰蟻蠁畏 纬蟻伪蠁萎 纬蔚渭维蟿畏 蠂维蟻畏... 螚 螘蟻谓蠈 伪尉委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 渭蔚 蟿慰 蟺伪蟻伪蟺维谓蠅 蟿畏 未喂蔚胃谓萎 蟿畏蟼 蠁萎渭畏 蟺慰蠀 尉蔚蟺蔚蟻谓维蔚喂 蠈位慰 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 蟽蠉谓慰蟻伪.禄
(New York Times)
芦螆谓伪 位伪渭蟺蟻蠈 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏蠈 蔚蟺委蟿蔚蠀纬渭伪, 蟺慰蠀 蟺维位位蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 蟽蠀纬魏蟻伪蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟽蠀谓伪委蟽胃畏渭伪.禄
(Le Monde)
芦螒蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪... 危蔚 魏伪蟿伪魏位蠉味蔚喂...禄 (Paris-Match)
芦危蟿慰 蠀尾蟻喂未喂魏蠈 蔚纬蠂蔚委蟻畏渭维 蟿畏蟼, 畏 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪 蟽蠀谓未蠀维味蔚蟿伪喂 蔚蠀蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏维 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂慰位慰纬委伪 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺蟻慰蟽蟺维胃蔚喂伪 谓伪 蔚喂蟺蠅胃慰蠉谓 蟿伪 蟺蟻维纬渭伪蟿伪 渭蔚 蟿' 蠈谓慰渭维 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟿蟻慰蠁苇蟼 魏伪喂 蠀蟺蔚魏蠁蠀纬苇蟼禄.
(螡委魏畏 螝蠋蟿蟽喂慰蠀, bookpress gr, 20/07/2020)
芦螌渭慰蟻蠁畏 纬蟻伪蠁萎 纬蔚渭维蟿畏 蠂维蟻畏... 螚 螘蟻谓蠈 伪尉委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 渭蔚 蟿慰 蟺伪蟻伪蟺维谓蠅 蟿畏 未喂蔚胃谓萎 蟿畏蟼 蠁萎渭畏 蟺慰蠀 尉蔚蟺蔚蟻谓维蔚喂 蠈位慰 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 蟽蠉谓慰蟻伪.禄
(New York Times)
芦螆谓伪 位伪渭蟺蟻蠈 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏蠈 蔚蟺委蟿蔚蠀纬渭伪, 蟺慰蠀 蟺维位位蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 蟽蠀纬魏蟻伪蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟽蠀谓伪委蟽胃畏渭伪.禄
(Le Monde)
芦螒蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪... 危蔚 魏伪蟿伪魏位蠉味蔚喂...禄 (Paris-Match)
芦危蟿慰 蠀尾蟻喂未喂魏蠈 蔚纬蠂蔚委蟻畏渭维 蟿畏蟼, 畏 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪 蟽蠀谓未蠀维味蔚蟿伪喂 蔚蠀蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏维 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂慰位慰纬委伪 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺蟻慰蟽蟺维胃蔚喂伪 谓伪 蔚喂蟺蠅胃慰蠉谓 蟿伪 蟺蟻维纬渭伪蟿伪 渭蔚 蟿' 蠈谓慰渭维 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟿蟻慰蠁苇蟼 魏伪喂 蠀蟺蔚魏蠁蠀纬苇蟼禄.
(螡委魏畏 螝蠋蟿蟽喂慰蠀, bookpress gr, 20/07/2020)
112 pages, Paperback
First published December 19, 1983
969 people are currently reading
20.8k people want to read
About the author
Annie Ernaux
86听books8,744听followersThe author of some twenty works of fiction and memoir, Annie Ernaux is considered by many to be France鈥檚 most important writer. In 2022, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. She has also won the Prix Renaudot for A Man's Place and the Marguerite Yourcenar Prize for her body of work. More recently she received the International Strega Prize, the Prix Formentor, the French-American Translation Prize, and the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation for The Years, which was also shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize in 2019. Her other works include Exteriors, A Girl's Story, A Woman's Story, The Possession, Simple Passion, Happening, I Remain in Darkness, Shame, A Frozen Woman, and A Man's Place.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,570 reviews
October 2, 2023
Portrait of a father.
Annie Ernaux, daughter, student, aspiring author and mother, dissects the personality of her father, that loving and scary figure many of us had and someday might even become. From childhood to old age, trying to find a place in a society he belongs and doesn鈥檛. And in doing so, taking him part by part, we discover everything that made him be, parent鈥檚 parts we may even recognize, in ours.
You have to admire Ernaux skill to write in a so detached and emotionless way, like an anchor reporting the news. Still, I for one need to have emotion in my readings, either be love or hate, but something at least, otherwise I might as well feel more inclined to read a pamphlet of trending furniture instead.
Also I must note memoirs have never been my thing. and this one was no exception. But at least Ernaux鈥檚 are very short. Some interesting quotes here and there, but nothing memorable that will truly stay, at least for me.
-----------------------------------------------
PERSONAL NOTE :
[1983] [101p] [Memoir] [2.5] [Not Recommendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Retrato de un padre.
Annie Ernaux, hija, estudiante, aspirante a escritora y madre, disecciona la personalidad de su padre, esa entra帽able y aterradora figura que muchos tuvimos y que alg煤n d铆a tal vez seremos. Desde la ni帽ez hasta la vejez, tratando de encontrar un lugar en una sociedad a la que pertenece y no. Y en el proceso, dividi茅ndolo en pedazos, descubrimos todo lo que lo hizo ser, partes de padres que tal vez reconozcamos, en los nuestros.
Hay que admirar la habilidad de Ernaux para escribir de una manera tan alejada y sin emoci贸n, como un reportero transmitiendo las noticias. Sin embargo, yo por mi parte necesito emoci贸n en mis lecturas, ya sea amor u odio, pero algo al menos, de otra forma tal vez me sienta m谩s inclinado en leer en su lugar un panfleto de tendencia en muebler铆a.
Tambi茅n debo notar que las memorias nunca fueron lo m铆o, y esta no fue la excepci贸n. Pero al menos las de Ernaux son muy cortas. Algunas citas interesantes aqu铆 y all谩, pero nada que vaya a quedar en la memoria, al menos para m铆.
-----------------------------------------------
NOTA PERSONAL :
[1983] [101p] [Memoria] [2.5] [No Recomendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Annie Ernaux, daughter, student, aspiring author and mother, dissects the personality of her father, that loving and scary figure many of us had and someday might even become. From childhood to old age, trying to find a place in a society he belongs and doesn鈥檛. And in doing so, taking him part by part, we discover everything that made him be, parent鈥檚 parts we may even recognize, in ours.
You have to admire Ernaux skill to write in a so detached and emotionless way, like an anchor reporting the news. Still, I for one need to have emotion in my readings, either be love or hate, but something at least, otherwise I might as well feel more inclined to read a pamphlet of trending furniture instead.
Also I must note memoirs have never been my thing. and this one was no exception. But at least Ernaux鈥檚 are very short. Some interesting quotes here and there, but nothing memorable that will truly stay, at least for me.
-----------------------------------------------
PERSONAL NOTE :
[1983] [101p] [Memoir] [2.5] [Not Recommendable]
-----------------------------------------------
Retrato de un padre.
Annie Ernaux, hija, estudiante, aspirante a escritora y madre, disecciona la personalidad de su padre, esa entra帽able y aterradora figura que muchos tuvimos y que alg煤n d铆a tal vez seremos. Desde la ni帽ez hasta la vejez, tratando de encontrar un lugar en una sociedad a la que pertenece y no. Y en el proceso, dividi茅ndolo en pedazos, descubrimos todo lo que lo hizo ser, partes de padres que tal vez reconozcamos, en los nuestros.
Hay que admirar la habilidad de Ernaux para escribir de una manera tan alejada y sin emoci贸n, como un reportero transmitiendo las noticias. Sin embargo, yo por mi parte necesito emoci贸n en mis lecturas, ya sea amor u odio, pero algo al menos, de otra forma tal vez me sienta m谩s inclinado en leer en su lugar un panfleto de tendencia en muebler铆a.
Tambi茅n debo notar que las memorias nunca fueron lo m铆o, y esta no fue la excepci贸n. Pero al menos las de Ernaux son muy cortas. Algunas citas interesantes aqu铆 y all谩, pero nada que vaya a quedar en la memoria, al menos para m铆.
-----------------------------------------------
NOTA PERSONAL :
[1983] [101p] [Memoria] [2.5] [No Recomendable]
-----------------------------------------------
July 22, 2023
A book written by an author about her father after his death will always be an emotional one. But this book is something different as it belongs to the category of therapeutic writing. Ernaux also talks about this therapeutic writing beautifully in her other book, .
It is difficult to write about our loved ones after their death during the time of grief as we will have to relive our memories which will make us happy and sad at the same time.
This book though short, tells us a lot about the family life of hardworking people in France. Annie calls her writing style a neutral way of writing. She shares all the thoughts that went through her mind while writing this book
What I learned from this book
1) Grief at the loss of a loved one
We can see how people in France expressed their feelings at the loss of a loved one in this book and why and how Annie's family did it differently from the general conventions at that time.
2)What is Fractured love?
We can see Ernaux thinking about writing about her father while waiting for news of her first job. Her words truly reflect the complicated relationship she had with her family.
3) Why was Annie's father afraid of the fear of being ashamed?
What would you do if you were stuck in a train's first-class compartment with people who enjoyed the highest position in society? It is your personality that determines how you handle the situation. It is precisely the thing that Ernaux's father was afraid of. We can see the pain he went through in similar situations in multiple parts of this book.
4) What is the role of education in building the confidence of an individual?
Ernaux's father had to leave school at the age of twelve to work on a farm due to his family's financial situation. We can see how much he loved learning from the author's words. His lack of proper education affected his confidence and caused a lot of friction in his relationship with his daughter (author).
5) What was the raison d鈥櫭猼re of Annie鈥檚 fathers existence?
We can see the author deciphering something complicated yet simple about her father's life in this book.
What could have been better?
I have been confused with the type of relationship the author had with her father, especially in the initial part of this book. Did she actually love him or hate him? I know love is a complicated feeling that can't be explained by objective answers. Still, I felt that the author should have written that portion in a better way. I don't know whether the author was actually confused about her love towards her father due to the grief associated with her father's death or whether the central idea was lost in translation.
The author also faces the same problem in her book about her mother, A Woman's story. In that case, she beautifully addresses the problem and makes things clear to the reader. The same maturity is sadly missing in this book.
Rating
4/5 This is the first time I am reading a book that is considered therapeutic writing by the author. I think it will give readers a different reading experience compared to other memoirs.
鈥斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌�
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It is difficult to write about our loved ones after their death during the time of grief as we will have to relive our memories which will make us happy and sad at the same time.
This book though short, tells us a lot about the family life of hardworking people in France. Annie calls her writing style a neutral way of writing. She shares all the thoughts that went through her mind while writing this book
"In order to tell the story of a life governed by necessity, I have no right to adopt an artistic approach, or attempt to produce something 'moving' or 'gripping'. I shall collate my father's words, tastes and mannerisms, the main events of his life, all the external evidence of his existence, an existence which I too shared.
No lyrical reminiscences, no triumphant displays of irony. This neutral way of writing comes to me naturally, it is the very same style I used when I wrote home telling my parents the latest news."
What I learned from this book
1) Grief at the loss of a loved one
We can see how people in France expressed their feelings at the loss of a loved one in this book and why and how Annie's family did it differently from the general conventions at that time.
"In distinguished society, grief at the loss of a loved one is expressed through tears, silence and dignity. The social conventions observed by my mother, and for that matter the rest of the neighborhood, had nothing to do with dignity."
2)What is Fractured love?
We can see Ernaux thinking about writing about her father while waiting for news of her first job. Her words truly reflect the complicated relationship she had with her family.
"I thought to myself: 'One day I shall have to explain all this.' What I meant was, to write about my father, his life and the distance which had come between us during my adolescence. Although it had something to do with class, it was different, indefinable. Like fractured love."
3) Why was Annie's father afraid of the fear of being ashamed?
What would you do if you were stuck in a train's first-class compartment with people who enjoyed the highest position in society? It is your personality that determines how you handle the situation. It is precisely the thing that Ernaux's father was afraid of. We can see the pain he went through in similar situations in multiple parts of this book.
"His motto: Better to be the head of a dog than the tail of a lion.
Always this fear of being ashamed, out of place."
4) What is the role of education in building the confidence of an individual?
Ernaux's father had to leave school at the age of twelve to work on a farm due to his family's financial situation. We can see how much he loved learning from the author's words. His lack of proper education affected his confidence and caused a lot of friction in his relationship with his daughter (author).
"I realize now that anything to do with language was a source of resentment and distress, far more than money."
5) What was the raison d鈥櫭猼re of Annie鈥檚 fathers existence?
We can see the author deciphering something complicated yet simple about her father's life in this book.
"His greatest satisfaction, possibly even the raison d鈥櫭猼re of his existence, was the fact that I belonged to the world which had scorned him.
He liked to sing: C'est l'aviron qui nous m猫ne en rond 鈥� 'The paddle that is rowing us in circles'"
What could have been better?
I have been confused with the type of relationship the author had with her father, especially in the initial part of this book. Did she actually love him or hate him? I know love is a complicated feeling that can't be explained by objective answers. Still, I felt that the author should have written that portion in a better way. I don't know whether the author was actually confused about her love towards her father due to the grief associated with her father's death or whether the central idea was lost in translation.
The author also faces the same problem in her book about her mother, A Woman's story. In that case, she beautifully addresses the problem and makes things clear to the reader. The same maturity is sadly missing in this book.
Rating
4/5 This is the first time I am reading a book that is considered therapeutic writing by the author. I think it will give readers a different reading experience compared to other memoirs.
鈥斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌斺赌�
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October 6, 2022
Update 06.10.22 Now Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. Congratulations.
Women in Translation 2021 book 6. 3.5* as it was my favourite of the 6.
Translated from French by Tanya Leslie and published by the wonderful Fitzcarraldo Editions.
After reading Jennifer Croft鈥檚 tweets explaining why the translator should be on the cover I decided to name the translator in my future reviews.
I finished this novel in August but I was very very busy and had no time to write a proper review. Now, I feel it is too late so I will only say a few words.
Annie Ernaux鈥檚 trademark is to write short memoirs about a certain period in her life or about a member of her family. In this case, she chose her father, a simple hardworking man. The book starts with his death and then continues with the Ernaux鈥檚 grandfather鈥檚 life. After reading to the end, it seems that the book was written as a therapy for the author. She is obviously feeling guilty for distancing herself from her father while transitioning towards middle class.
The disjointed, dispassionate writing style needs a little time getting used to. The style is simple, honest but also powerful. I plan to read more of the author, this short memoir felt more like an appetizer.
Women in Translation 2021 book 6. 3.5* as it was my favourite of the 6.
Translated from French by Tanya Leslie and published by the wonderful Fitzcarraldo Editions.
After reading Jennifer Croft鈥檚 tweets explaining why the translator should be on the cover I decided to name the translator in my future reviews.
I finished this novel in August but I was very very busy and had no time to write a proper review. Now, I feel it is too late so I will only say a few words.
Annie Ernaux鈥檚 trademark is to write short memoirs about a certain period in her life or about a member of her family. In this case, she chose her father, a simple hardworking man. The book starts with his death and then continues with the Ernaux鈥檚 grandfather鈥檚 life. After reading to the end, it seems that the book was written as a therapy for the author. She is obviously feeling guilty for distancing herself from her father while transitioning towards middle class.
The disjointed, dispassionate writing style needs a little time getting used to. The style is simple, honest but also powerful. I plan to read more of the author, this short memoir felt more like an appetizer.
December 17, 2022
L鈥橝MORE SEPARATO
L鈥檃more separato 猫 quello tra padre e figlia: se ne parla nella seconda met脿 di questo breve memoir, quando la giovane ha raggiunto un鈥檈t脿 che dovrebbe avvicinarla all鈥檃dulto e invece si accorge che non hanno pi霉 niente da dirsi, quando la figlia comprende che per lei il padre
non pu貌 pi霉 fare nulla. Le sue parole e le sue idee non erano quelle che circolavano nelle lezioni di letteratura o di filosofia, nei soggiorni con i divani di velluto rosso dei miei compagni di classe,
Annie 猫 ormai parte di un altro mondo, anche di un鈥檃ltra classe sociale, e di un鈥檃ltra cultura.
Quando Annie Ernaux sposa un giovane cresciuto in un ambiente borghese, quando entra a far parte di quella met脿 di mondo per la quale l鈥檃ltra met脿 猫 soltanto un arredo, la frattura sembra insanabile e la figlia dice a proposito del rapporto ormai distante col padre:
Mi sentivo separata da me stessa.
Nell鈥檃dolescenza, et脿 incerta fragile e tumultuosa, pi霉 o meno tutti si vergognano dei propri genitori 鈥� almeno di uno dei due 鈥� lasciami qui per favore, non accompagnarmi davanti alla scuola, ecc.
Ma qui, nelle pagine di Annie Ermeaux, siamo ben oltre la vergogna: la figlia sente di far parte di un altro mondo e un鈥檃ltra epoca, che non ha pi霉 nulla da spartire con il medioevo del padre.
Il posto non 猫 certo quello di lavoro, l鈥檌mpiego, anche se la trasformazione sociale e le differenze di classe sono molto importanti in quest鈥檕pera.
Il posto non 猫 un luogo, n茅 la Normandia, n茅 Y. n茅 Lione.
Il posto 猫 lo spazio invisibile che separa gli esseri umani, quella distanza che va a crearsi tra le vite delle persone e che la letteratura pu貌 cercare di descrivere, senza poter colmare.
Annie Ernaux prova a unire quello che 猫 separato, a colmare la distanza cresciuta nel e col tempo.
Ci prova scrivendo.
E per scrivere deve ricordare, spolverare, ricostruire la memoria:
Sono passati molti mesi da quando, in novembre, ho iniziato questo racconto. Ci ho messo tanto perch茅 riportare alla luce fatti dimenticati non mi veniva cos矛 facile quanto inventarli. La memoria fa resistenza.
Cento magre paginette incise
con grande semplicit脿, senza pianti n茅 singhiozzi,鈥�. gli occhi rossi鈥� con calma, senza disordine, accompagnate da parole qualsiasi,
proprio nel modo in cui viene vestito il corpo del padre appena morto, dopo avergli chiuso gli occhi, pur facendo presto per anticipare l鈥檌rrigidimento.
Scritte probabilmente con rabbia, e una sorta di vergogna.
Scritte sicuramente senza eccesso, men che meno di parole, il racconto 猫 prosciugato, rarefatto.
Scritte per raccontare lunghi anni, forse una vita intera, priva di felicit脿.
C鈥櫭� molto dolore in queste pagine: scavato, analizzato, scandagliato, sezionato con semplicit脿 e nitidezza.
E alla fine Annie Ermeaux sembra spuntarla:
Ho finito di riportare alla luce l鈥檈redit脿 che, quando sono entrata nel mondo borghese e colto, avevo dovuto posare sulla soglia.
Ma il dolore a me sembra rimanere, fermarsi, entrare dentro.
E insieme al dolore, la bellezza di queste pagine, che non se ne va, rimane, si ferma, entra dentro.
PS
Oggi la mamma 猫 morta. O forse ieri, non so. Ho ricevuto un telegramma dall鈥檕spizio: 鈥楳adre deceduta. Funerali domani. Distinti saluti.鈥� Questo non dice nulla: 猫 stato forse ieri.
脠 l鈥檌ncipit de 鈥楲o straniero鈥� di Camus, e mi pare che in qualche modo i due libri si incrocino e incontrino: niente spazio al sentimento, n茅 all鈥檈laborazione, nessuna conclusione: solo descrizione, solo osservazione.
L鈥檃more separato 猫 quello tra padre e figlia: se ne parla nella seconda met脿 di questo breve memoir, quando la giovane ha raggiunto un鈥檈t脿 che dovrebbe avvicinarla all鈥檃dulto e invece si accorge che non hanno pi霉 niente da dirsi, quando la figlia comprende che per lei il padre
non pu貌 pi霉 fare nulla. Le sue parole e le sue idee non erano quelle che circolavano nelle lezioni di letteratura o di filosofia, nei soggiorni con i divani di velluto rosso dei miei compagni di classe,
Annie 猫 ormai parte di un altro mondo, anche di un鈥檃ltra classe sociale, e di un鈥檃ltra cultura.
Quando Annie Ernaux sposa un giovane cresciuto in un ambiente borghese, quando entra a far parte di quella met脿 di mondo per la quale l鈥檃ltra met脿 猫 soltanto un arredo, la frattura sembra insanabile e la figlia dice a proposito del rapporto ormai distante col padre:
Mi sentivo separata da me stessa.
Nell鈥檃dolescenza, et脿 incerta fragile e tumultuosa, pi霉 o meno tutti si vergognano dei propri genitori 鈥� almeno di uno dei due 鈥� lasciami qui per favore, non accompagnarmi davanti alla scuola, ecc.
Ma qui, nelle pagine di Annie Ermeaux, siamo ben oltre la vergogna: la figlia sente di far parte di un altro mondo e un鈥檃ltra epoca, che non ha pi霉 nulla da spartire con il medioevo del padre.
Il posto non 猫 certo quello di lavoro, l鈥檌mpiego, anche se la trasformazione sociale e le differenze di classe sono molto importanti in quest鈥檕pera.
Il posto non 猫 un luogo, n茅 la Normandia, n茅 Y. n茅 Lione.
Il posto 猫 lo spazio invisibile che separa gli esseri umani, quella distanza che va a crearsi tra le vite delle persone e che la letteratura pu貌 cercare di descrivere, senza poter colmare.
Annie Ernaux prova a unire quello che 猫 separato, a colmare la distanza cresciuta nel e col tempo.
Ci prova scrivendo.
E per scrivere deve ricordare, spolverare, ricostruire la memoria:
Sono passati molti mesi da quando, in novembre, ho iniziato questo racconto. Ci ho messo tanto perch茅 riportare alla luce fatti dimenticati non mi veniva cos矛 facile quanto inventarli. La memoria fa resistenza.
Cento magre paginette incise
con grande semplicit脿, senza pianti n茅 singhiozzi,鈥�. gli occhi rossi鈥� con calma, senza disordine, accompagnate da parole qualsiasi,
proprio nel modo in cui viene vestito il corpo del padre appena morto, dopo avergli chiuso gli occhi, pur facendo presto per anticipare l鈥檌rrigidimento.
Scritte probabilmente con rabbia, e una sorta di vergogna.
Scritte sicuramente senza eccesso, men che meno di parole, il racconto 猫 prosciugato, rarefatto.
Scritte per raccontare lunghi anni, forse una vita intera, priva di felicit脿.
C鈥櫭� molto dolore in queste pagine: scavato, analizzato, scandagliato, sezionato con semplicit脿 e nitidezza.
E alla fine Annie Ermeaux sembra spuntarla:
Ho finito di riportare alla luce l鈥檈redit脿 che, quando sono entrata nel mondo borghese e colto, avevo dovuto posare sulla soglia.
Ma il dolore a me sembra rimanere, fermarsi, entrare dentro.
E insieme al dolore, la bellezza di queste pagine, che non se ne va, rimane, si ferma, entra dentro.
PS
Oggi la mamma 猫 morta. O forse ieri, non so. Ho ricevuto un telegramma dall鈥檕spizio: 鈥楳adre deceduta. Funerali domani. Distinti saluti.鈥� Questo non dice nulla: 猫 stato forse ieri.
脠 l鈥檌ncipit de 鈥楲o straniero鈥� di Camus, e mi pare che in qualche modo i due libri si incrocino e incontrino: niente spazio al sentimento, n茅 all鈥檈laborazione, nessuna conclusione: solo descrizione, solo osservazione.
July 11, 2021
Lo primero que llama la atenci贸n del libro, hasta para qui茅n como yo haya le铆do a Ernaux, es el tono seco y cortante, como si la historia fuera contada a rega帽adientes, obligada, como si nosotros, sus lectores, fu茅ramos como aquellos clientes del colmado de sus padres que, por necesidad, suplicaban que les fiasen cuando ellos mismos llegaban muy justitos a fin de mes.
鈥淒esde luego no siento ning煤n placer al escribir, en este empe帽o por mantenerme lo m谩s cerca posible de las palabras y las frases o铆das鈥ada de poes铆a del recuerdo, nada de alegre regocijo. Escribir de una forma llana es lo que me resulta natural鈥︹€�No me cabe duda de que una de sus mayores preocupaciones fue encontrar el tono justo para este homenaje a la vida que representaban sus padres, o, m谩s que un homenaje, este dejar constancia de aquellos modos y maneras, de ese lugar al que ella ahora siente que traicion贸.
鈥淢e doblegu茅 a la exigencia del mundo donde vivo, que se esfuerza por hacerte olvidar los recuerdos del mundo anterior como si fueran algo de mal gusto.鈥�No puedo negar que parte del atractivo que la obra ha tenido para m铆 es que he sentido todo muy cercano. Aunque se trata de la vida en un pueblo franc茅s de la primera mitad del siglo pasado, no se distingue mucho de la de los a帽os 60 en un peque帽o pueblo espa帽ol, donde la vida entera est谩 expuesta a la vista y a la cr铆tica de todos.
鈥淯n pueblo donde los vecinos vigilaban la blancura y el estado de la ropa tendida a secar, y sab铆an si se vaciaban los orinales todos los d铆as.鈥�Pueblos d贸nde era dif铆cil salirse del redil, discrepar e incluso sobresalir.
鈥淣orma: escapar siempre a la mirada cr铆tica de los otros, siendo muy educado, no expresando opini贸n alguna, controlando minuciosamente los estados de 谩nimo que pueden ponerte en evidencia.鈥�He empatizado con su orgullo de clase obrera y con su orgullo culpable por haber podido escapar de ella, con su rabia hacia la condescendencia de 鈥渓os que dirigen, mandan y escriben en los peri贸dicos que 芦esas gentes son felices a pesar de todo禄鈥�, con su conflicto 鈥渆ntre dignificar un modo de vida considerado inferior y denunciar la alienaci贸n que conlleva. Porque esas formas de vida eran las nuestras, y casi pod铆a considerarse felicidad, pero tambi茅n lo eran las humillantes barreas de nuestra condici贸n.鈥� He empatizado con esa forma discreta de contar sin pretender 鈥渉acer algo 芦apasionante禄, 芦conmovedor禄鈥�, de expresar de un modo tan sencillo y demoledor lo que supone la muerte de un padre.
鈥溾€� intentando leer Los mandarines, de Simone de Beauvoir. No consegu铆a concentrarme en la lectura, al llegar a alguna p谩gina de ese libro mi padre ya no vivir铆a.鈥�
October 6, 2022
evet annie ernaux, magnum opus鈥檜 鈥渟eneler鈥漣n m眉jdesini 25 y谋l evvel yazd谋臒谋 bu kitapta vermi艧.
babas谋n谋 kaybettikten sonra onu anlatmak i莽in bir romana ba艧lamas谋 ve bunu kesinlikle yapamamas谋, aynen ebeveyniyle mektupla艧谋r gibi d眉md眉z anlatmay谋 tercih etmesi bize ernaux鈥檔un o muhte艧em 眉slubunu kazand谋rm谋艧.
hi莽 ac谋kl谋 de臒il, hi莽 duygusalla艧m谋yor, hi莽 ajitasyon yok. bakmay谋n ben kitab谋 z谋r谋l z谋r谋l a臒layarak bitirdiysem tamamen ki艧isel meselelerle ilgili. ama yazarak iyile艧mek ne demek 莽ok iyi biliyorum ve annie ernaux鈥檡u o kadar anl谋yorum ki ya艧ad谋臒谋m duyguda艧l谋k g枚zya艧谋 olarak f谋艧k谋r谋yor.
ernaux bu kitapta a艧k谋, me艧ki de atm谋艧 kenara bir y眉zy谋l谋n tarihini yazm谋艧 kendince. ayn谋 zamanda k枚le gibi 莽al谋艧谋lan bir zamandan i艧莽ili臒e, sonras谋nda ise esnafl谋臒a uzanan bir s谋n谋f yolculu臒u bu.
araya giren iki d眉nya sava艧谋, de臒i艧en toplumsal ihtiya莽lar, bakkallar谋n yerini alan s眉permarketler, toprak zeminli m眉stakil evlerin yerini alan toplu konutlar鈥� 70 sayfada daha ne anlat谋labilir bilmiyorum.
annie ernaux鈥檔un ergenli臒inde babas谋yla aras谋ndaki 莽atl谋艧ma, babas谋ndan utanmas谋, anla艧amamas谋, sonras谋nda burjuva kocas谋yla ya艧ad谋臒谋 yabanc谋l谋k鈥� bunlar da var 眉stelik.
bizde s谋n谋fsal farklar hi莽 bu denli yo臒un olmad谋臒谋, osmanl谋 saray 莽evresini d谋艧arda b谋rak谋rsak, 莽o臒umuz reaya k枚yl眉ler oldu臒umuz i莽in 艧ansl谋y谋z belki de. belki de de臒iliz 莽眉nk眉 frans谋z edebiyat谋n谋 en 莽ok besleyen konu bu. 艧u an karars谋z kald谋m.
yazar谋n burda da foto臒raflardan anlatt谋klar谋 do臒rudan seneler鈥檌 getiriyor akla. bir foto臒rafa bakarak kendini, s谋n谋f谋n谋 ve baban谋 anlatmak鈥� o kadar yap谋labilir bir 艧ey ki. i艧te o zaman bu duyguda艧l谋k ve kendini o durumda bulma hayali, ba艧l谋yor a臒latmaya.
bu arada siren idemen 莽evirisi diye bir 艧ey var. 枚yle g枚rkemli bir 艧ey ki bu, kitap t眉rk莽e s枚ylenmi艧 san谋yorsunuz.
babas谋n谋 kaybettikten sonra onu anlatmak i莽in bir romana ba艧lamas谋 ve bunu kesinlikle yapamamas谋, aynen ebeveyniyle mektupla艧谋r gibi d眉md眉z anlatmay谋 tercih etmesi bize ernaux鈥檔un o muhte艧em 眉slubunu kazand谋rm谋艧.
hi莽 ac谋kl谋 de臒il, hi莽 duygusalla艧m谋yor, hi莽 ajitasyon yok. bakmay谋n ben kitab谋 z谋r谋l z谋r谋l a臒layarak bitirdiysem tamamen ki艧isel meselelerle ilgili. ama yazarak iyile艧mek ne demek 莽ok iyi biliyorum ve annie ernaux鈥檡u o kadar anl谋yorum ki ya艧ad谋臒谋m duyguda艧l谋k g枚zya艧谋 olarak f谋艧k谋r谋yor.
ernaux bu kitapta a艧k谋, me艧ki de atm谋艧 kenara bir y眉zy谋l谋n tarihini yazm谋艧 kendince. ayn谋 zamanda k枚le gibi 莽al谋艧谋lan bir zamandan i艧莽ili臒e, sonras谋nda ise esnafl谋臒a uzanan bir s谋n谋f yolculu臒u bu.
araya giren iki d眉nya sava艧谋, de臒i艧en toplumsal ihtiya莽lar, bakkallar谋n yerini alan s眉permarketler, toprak zeminli m眉stakil evlerin yerini alan toplu konutlar鈥� 70 sayfada daha ne anlat谋labilir bilmiyorum.
annie ernaux鈥檔un ergenli臒inde babas谋yla aras谋ndaki 莽atl谋艧ma, babas谋ndan utanmas谋, anla艧amamas谋, sonras谋nda burjuva kocas谋yla ya艧ad谋臒谋 yabanc谋l谋k鈥� bunlar da var 眉stelik.
bizde s谋n谋fsal farklar hi莽 bu denli yo臒un olmad谋臒谋, osmanl谋 saray 莽evresini d谋艧arda b谋rak谋rsak, 莽o臒umuz reaya k枚yl眉ler oldu臒umuz i莽in 艧ansl谋y谋z belki de. belki de de臒iliz 莽眉nk眉 frans谋z edebiyat谋n谋 en 莽ok besleyen konu bu. 艧u an karars谋z kald谋m.
yazar谋n burda da foto臒raflardan anlatt谋klar谋 do臒rudan seneler鈥檌 getiriyor akla. bir foto臒rafa bakarak kendini, s谋n谋f谋n谋 ve baban谋 anlatmak鈥� o kadar yap谋labilir bir 艧ey ki. i艧te o zaman bu duyguda艧l谋k ve kendini o durumda bulma hayali, ba艧l谋yor a臒latmaya.
bu arada siren idemen 莽evirisi diye bir 艧ey var. 枚yle g枚rkemli bir 艧ey ki bu, kitap t眉rk莽e s枚ylenmi艧 san谋yorsunuz.
October 16, 2021
link:
Why does one write? What does one want to write? But first and foremost, the question should be why one writes at all. It is because of some inner demon as George Orwell used to maintain or something else, perhaps to get away from some burden off their soul. Even if we assume that is the case then why do people make it public, more importantly, why do they do it when it鈥檚 about their private life. Is it due to need for some sort of validation from others, but it can鈥檛 be so simple. Or it is because fundamentally we all are alike, which means all that glorified notion about the uniqueness of human beings does not stand true if we go to the very core of humanity. The various expressions of humanity- grief, happiness, sadness, anger, etc.- are fundamentally similar across the various herds of human beings. There may be another perspective too, we keep on stacking repositories of memories throughout our life, with older ones getting diminished with time. But there are some memories which we consciously keep suppressed through our life, perhaps because of some fear, or shame, these memories, which have been suppressed for long, strive to come out, to be expressed so that one could make peace with them.
May be I am writing because we no longer had anything to say to each other.
I have read A Woman鈥檚 Story by the author previously, which was about her mother, A Man鈥檚 Place is apparently about her father. The author writes here too in that familiar unbiased and dissociated manner- a neutral manner of writing- which marks perhaps a different sort of biography or a new genre altogether. It鈥檚 like reliving memories as you do with old suppressed memories, sometimes to re-imagine them, sometimes to get away with them. At times it gets difficult to dig up old forgotten memories so we invent them, the book lies somewhere there. Or perhaps we write about it so that the eternal events such as death may be helped to get merge with the past, to be one with our past, so that our turbulent soul may find solace as then it would become like any other events of our past. The writing of the author is somewhat like a cross between family history and sociology, reality and fiction, it could be said to be an effort to delve deep inside your subconscious mind to find what lies there, a sort of unseen truth which could only be brought out to the life through something fragile but tangible such as words. Though it could not be regarded as realism as she chooses sparse, factual prose, perhaps it could be categorized as鈥� autofiction鈥�.
The author writes about her father in a way to grieve about him, she writes from a childhood of father, how it takes to shape that he, the hard-working man, lives through being a farm laborer to be a factory worker and eventually to own a grocery shop in a small town in Normandy. His father discovered the world through an army in Paris wherein the uniform provided a sense of equality among his companions from all over France. There have been many books that portray stories of such a man but the author here realizes that she could not tell it in the form of a novel as she believes that in order to tell the story of life governed by necessity, she has no right to adopt an artistic approach, or attempt to produce something 鈥榤oving鈥� or gripping鈥�. She just collates her father鈥檚 words, tastes, and mannerisms, the main events of his life, all the external evidence of his existence, which is coincidently shared by her too. It is that sort of writing through selected facts and details which makes one feels as if one is moving away from the subject, one is freeing oneself from it, in this case, the subject is her father, the skeleton of the book takes over and ideas seem to develop of their own accord. Here lies an interesting dilemma, that is to indulge in personal reminiscences or to tear oneself from the subjective point of view.
The author takes the practical test for her CAPES examination at a lycee in Lyon and goes on to become a teacher, her life takes a remarkable shift 鈥� from being a daughter of working-class parents to step into the realms of the intellectual world (the foundation of that laid by her education) which her parents are hardly aware of. Here opens a gulf between her parents and her world as both belong to completely different worlds, the gulf is hard to overcome, though the author undertakes it through her more than able pen. The author reveals a cold observation of a sort of demureness, a sense of shame which haunts her father throughout his life, the place of language, a mannerism which though does not come naturally to him but he held them in high esteem despite his limitations due to his background. Though his father had been a countryman at heart with his life completely different to that of her daughter but eventually he found satisfaction in the fact that despite his own limitations (one day he said: 鈥楤ooks and music are all right for you. I don鈥檛 need them to live.) he had been able to provide a life of grace and class to her daughter which led her ultimately to be part of the 鈥榗ivilized鈥� world.
His great satisfaction, possibly even the raison d`etre of his existence, was the fact that I belonged to the world which he had scorned him.
There have been a few references in the book which shows the inadequacy of the life of the father of author, however, beneath the surface it represents something more poignant and deeper about our life itself. There is one reference to the male sexual organ of her father when his body is undressed in front of the author, she happens to see penis of her father. Suddenly, her mother covers it up, saying -Hide your misery, my poor man! in a humorous tone, it connects to shame and inadequacy felt by her father due to his humble working class background wherein he is doomed to a life of solitude and distrust; the shame that also binds him to his social settings and prevent him to move along with the flow time and evolution.
The author also touches upon the inadequacy of language itself to convey our memories, our feelings. She reflects upon the deficiency of the language to portray the simple, ungraceful country life of father. The real personal experiences of life can鈥檛 be conveyed through language as words get falter when pushed to their very limits, so in a way language was the inadequacy of Ernaux like her father. It reminds me of Maurice Blanchot here who wrote extensively about language and literary theory. Perhaps it鈥檚 hard to assuage the wounds of hearts with words of reason.
Looking back, I realize that anything to do with language was a source of resentment and distress, far more than money.
The author has been able to create the detached and objective narrative about her father as we have seen in A Woman鈥檚 Story but I did not enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the account of her mother鈥檚 life, perhaps something was missing in it, the depth of emotions is probably not as much as was in A Woman鈥檚 Story since somehow, we did not feel very connected, neither with her father nor with herself. It is still a quite powerful read despite its flaws, the control Annie Ernaux has on narrative, the honesty with which she portrayed account of her father doesn鈥檛 get dismayed with guilt- another classic example of autofiction, the genre brilliantly exploited and defined by the author.
3.5/5
March 3, 2025
芦La Place禄, no original, tomou o t铆tulo de 芦Um Lugar ao Sol禄 na tradu莽茫o portuguesa.
O tom 茅 aparentemente 谩spero, frio e austero, como quem narra algo sem um pingo de emo莽茫o.
Esta mulher descreve a morte do pai, a prepara莽茫o do cad谩ver com uma min煤cia que podia ter evitado aos seus leitores e a si pr贸pria. Mas Annie Ernaux optou por nada omitir, como se necessitasse de castigar-se a si pr贸pria com as recorda莽玫es, e simultaneamente abalar o leitor.
No in铆cio, senti que faltava tristeza e dor, e transbordava revolta e cr铆tica 脿 classe social de agricultores e oper谩rios na qual tinha nascido.
Por op莽茫o, afinal, Annie Ernaux, ao narrar a vida do seu pai, uma vida sujeita a necessidades, n茫o pretendeu fazer algo de apaixonante ou emocionante; n茫o h谩 poesia de recorda莽茫o, nem de esc谩rnio jubiloso. N茫o encaminha o leitor para o prazer de uma cumplicidade, que recusa em todas as suas formas: nostalgia, pat茅tico ou desd茅m. Pinta a cor do mundo em que o pai viveu e ela tamb茅m. Um mundo em que n茫o se devia ambicionar mais que os outros, o medo de ter vergonha, a timidez perante as pessoas que se considerava importantes, a obsess茫o do Que pensar茫o de n贸s? (os vizinhos, os clientes, toda a gente), o mau franc锚s, motivo de tro莽a, quando uma filha de oper谩rio casava gr谩vida, todo o bairro sabia.
H谩 uma an谩lise sociol贸gica nesta narrativa, centrada na ascens茫o social por forma莽茫o acad茅mica, de filhos de pais com poucas ou nenhumas habilita莽玫es liter谩rias e trabalhos desqualificados. Mas, como a autora escreve:
芦Tinha-me criado para que tirasse partido de um luxo que ele desconhecia (...)禄
芦Apetecia-me falar, escrever acerca de meu pai, da sua vida e da dist芒ncia que surgira entre ele e eu durante a adolesc锚ncia. Uma dist芒ncia de classe, mas particular, que n茫o tem nome. Como do amor separado.禄
Em 1967, data da morte do pai, lemos:
芦Terminei de p么r em dia a heran莽a que tive de depositar na soleira do mundo burgu锚s e culto quando nele entrei.禄
芦Talvez o seu maior orgulho, ou mesmo a justifica莽茫o da sua exist锚ncia: que eu pertencesse ao mundo que o tinha desdenhado.禄
Gostei, mas n茫o tenciono ler o que dedicou 脿 m茫e.
O tom 茅 aparentemente 谩spero, frio e austero, como quem narra algo sem um pingo de emo莽茫o.
Esta mulher descreve a morte do pai, a prepara莽茫o do cad谩ver com uma min煤cia que podia ter evitado aos seus leitores e a si pr贸pria. Mas Annie Ernaux optou por nada omitir, como se necessitasse de castigar-se a si pr贸pria com as recorda莽玫es, e simultaneamente abalar o leitor.
No in铆cio, senti que faltava tristeza e dor, e transbordava revolta e cr铆tica 脿 classe social de agricultores e oper谩rios na qual tinha nascido.
Por op莽茫o, afinal, Annie Ernaux, ao narrar a vida do seu pai, uma vida sujeita a necessidades, n茫o pretendeu fazer algo de apaixonante ou emocionante; n茫o h谩 poesia de recorda莽茫o, nem de esc谩rnio jubiloso. N茫o encaminha o leitor para o prazer de uma cumplicidade, que recusa em todas as suas formas: nostalgia, pat茅tico ou desd茅m. Pinta a cor do mundo em que o pai viveu e ela tamb茅m. Um mundo em que n茫o se devia ambicionar mais que os outros, o medo de ter vergonha, a timidez perante as pessoas que se considerava importantes, a obsess茫o do Que pensar茫o de n贸s? (os vizinhos, os clientes, toda a gente), o mau franc锚s, motivo de tro莽a, quando uma filha de oper谩rio casava gr谩vida, todo o bairro sabia.
H谩 uma an谩lise sociol贸gica nesta narrativa, centrada na ascens茫o social por forma莽茫o acad茅mica, de filhos de pais com poucas ou nenhumas habilita莽玫es liter谩rias e trabalhos desqualificados. Mas, como a autora escreve:
芦Tinha-me criado para que tirasse partido de um luxo que ele desconhecia (...)禄
芦Apetecia-me falar, escrever acerca de meu pai, da sua vida e da dist芒ncia que surgira entre ele e eu durante a adolesc锚ncia. Uma dist芒ncia de classe, mas particular, que n茫o tem nome. Como do amor separado.禄
Em 1967, data da morte do pai, lemos:
芦Terminei de p么r em dia a heran莽a que tive de depositar na soleira do mundo burgu锚s e culto quando nele entrei.禄
芦Talvez o seu maior orgulho, ou mesmo a justifica莽茫o da sua exist锚ncia: que eu pertencesse ao mundo que o tinha desdenhado.禄
Gostei, mas n茫o tenciono ler o que dedicou 脿 m茫e.
August 1, 2021
噩夭亍 氐睾賷乇 賲賳 丨賷丕丞 丕賱賰丕鬲亘丞 丕賱賮乇賳爻賷丞 丌賳賷 廿乇賳賵, 鬲賯賵賱 賮賷 丕賱亘丿丕賷丞" 賴匕丕 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賵購賱丿 賲賳 賵噩毓
亘毓丿 賵賮丕丞 賵丕賱丿賴丕 鬲亘丿兀 賮賷 丕賱賰鬲丕亘丞 毓賳 丨賷丕鬲賴 丕賱亘爻賷胤丞 丕賱賮賯賷乇丞 賵丕賱卮丕賯丞
毓賱丕賯鬲賴丕 亘賴 賵丕賳賮氐丕賱賴丕 毓賳 毓丕賱賲賴 賵丕亘鬲毓丕丿賴丕 毓賳賴 亘丕賱丿乇丕爻丞 賵丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賵丕賱毓賲賱
丕賱爻乇丿 亘爻賷胤.. 鬲購毓賷丿 賮賷賴 丕賰鬲卮丕賮 賲丕 亘丿丕禺賱賴丕 賲賳 匕賰乇賷丕鬲 賵賲卮丕毓乇 賵兀賱賲
亘毓丿 賵賮丕丞 賵丕賱丿賴丕 鬲亘丿兀 賮賷 丕賱賰鬲丕亘丞 毓賳 丨賷丕鬲賴 丕賱亘爻賷胤丞 丕賱賮賯賷乇丞 賵丕賱卮丕賯丞
毓賱丕賯鬲賴丕 亘賴 賵丕賳賮氐丕賱賴丕 毓賳 毓丕賱賲賴 賵丕亘鬲毓丕丿賴丕 毓賳賴 亘丕賱丿乇丕爻丞 賵丕賱賯乇丕亍丞 賵丕賱毓賲賱
丕賱爻乇丿 亘爻賷胤.. 鬲購毓賷丿 賮賷賴 丕賰鬲卮丕賮 賲丕 亘丿丕禺賱賴丕 賲賳 匕賰乇賷丕鬲 賵賲卮丕毓乇 賵兀賱賲
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October 6, 2021This is brave and beautiful writing but...
The author grieves for her dead father by assembling words on paper, words which slowly take the form of a portrait of the father from his childhood at the turn of the twentieth century, through his years as a farm labourer, as a factory worker and eventually as the proprietor of a little caf茅/grocery shop on the edge of a small town in Normandy. Like many of his generation, he wished for a better life for his daughter and hoped that she would get the chance to step away from her working class origins. And there lies the central point of this book. The author emphasises at every turn her father's keen sense of his own inferiority and his constant, secret fear that his speech, his writing, his clothes or his manners would disgrace him, and her, in the eyes of those he believed to be his superiors. This intensely private anguish is what causes me to have reservations about Ernaux's book. Surely, among the worst things the father might ever have imagined was the publication of the less dignified details of his life, and of his death. Surely he would not want his personal incapacities revealed to the whole world?
I had similar reservations while reading Joan Didion's "Blue Nights", the feeling that intense grief and deeply personal regret, even when beautifully expressed, should be kept private.
The author grieves for her dead father by assembling words on paper, words which slowly take the form of a portrait of the father from his childhood at the turn of the twentieth century, through his years as a farm labourer, as a factory worker and eventually as the proprietor of a little caf茅/grocery shop on the edge of a small town in Normandy. Like many of his generation, he wished for a better life for his daughter and hoped that she would get the chance to step away from her working class origins. And there lies the central point of this book. The author emphasises at every turn her father's keen sense of his own inferiority and his constant, secret fear that his speech, his writing, his clothes or his manners would disgrace him, and her, in the eyes of those he believed to be his superiors. This intensely private anguish is what causes me to have reservations about Ernaux's book. Surely, among the worst things the father might ever have imagined was the publication of the less dignified details of his life, and of his death. Surely he would not want his personal incapacities revealed to the whole world?
I had similar reservations while reading Joan Didion's "Blue Nights", the feeling that intense grief and deeply personal regret, even when beautifully expressed, should be kept private.
January 23, 2022
This novel has left me cold. There are no emotions 鈥� rare case considering the novel is an elegy for the death of the father of the narrator (Annie?).
The attraction was the intellectual reflection on the limits of writing 鈥� particularly when one tries to capture somebody else鈥檚 identity.
May be this chilliness and detachment is exactly what Ernaux was seeking. In that case, she succeeded.
February 20, 2022
ernaux ile ger莽ekten ayn谋 frekansta, ne bileyim, ayn谋 ses dalgas谋 d眉zeyindeymi艧iz gibi hissediyorum. her bir c眉mlesi, her bir kelimesi beynimde sonsuz yank谋lar yarat谋yor. ve bu y眉zden de bu k谋sac谋k, hi莽bir fazlal谋臒谋 olmayan, sade yaz谋m 艧ekli de bendeki etkisini daha da b眉y眉t眉yor. uzatsa, i莽ini doldurmaya gayret etse sanki benden uzakla艧acakm谋艧 gibi. bulu艧abilece臒imiz en sade, en naif kesi艧im k眉mesinde bulu艧mu艧uz.
seneler鈥檇e de s枚ylemi艧tim, her ne kadar ernaux鈥檔un bahsetti臒i d枚nemle aram谋zda en az bi 35-40 y谋l olsa da, ya艧ad谋臒谋m谋z 眉lkelerin geli艧mi艧lik d眉zeyi fark谋 ile aram谋zdaki zaman bo艧lu臒u kapan谋yor. ben sanm谋yorum ki ya艧谋t谋m bir frans谋z ernaux鈥檔un babas谋, babas谋n谋n davran谋艧lar谋, yazar谋n babas谋yla ili艧kisi, hayat谋nda yeni geli艧meler olduk莽a ailesiyle ili艧kisinin ald谋臒谋 艧ekil gibi konularda benim kadar 枚zde艧le艧ebilsin. bu da bizim 艧anss谋z varolu艧umuzda minicik bir 艧ans zerresi.
鈥渋莽ine girdi臒im burjuva ve k眉lt眉rl眉 d眉nyan谋n e艧i臒inde b谋rakmak zorunda kald谋臒谋m miras谋 g眉n 谋艧谋臒谋na 莽谋karma i艧ini bitirdim.鈥� 眉f. 鉂わ笍鈥嶐煍�
seneler鈥檇e de s枚ylemi艧tim, her ne kadar ernaux鈥檔un bahsetti臒i d枚nemle aram谋zda en az bi 35-40 y谋l olsa da, ya艧ad谋臒谋m谋z 眉lkelerin geli艧mi艧lik d眉zeyi fark谋 ile aram谋zdaki zaman bo艧lu臒u kapan谋yor. ben sanm谋yorum ki ya艧谋t谋m bir frans谋z ernaux鈥檔un babas谋, babas谋n谋n davran谋艧lar谋, yazar谋n babas谋yla ili艧kisi, hayat谋nda yeni geli艧meler olduk莽a ailesiyle ili艧kisinin ald谋臒谋 艧ekil gibi konularda benim kadar 枚zde艧le艧ebilsin. bu da bizim 艧anss谋z varolu艧umuzda minicik bir 艧ans zerresi.
鈥渋莽ine girdi臒im burjuva ve k眉lt眉rl眉 d眉nyan谋n e艧i臒inde b谋rakmak zorunda kald谋臒谋m miras谋 g眉n 谋艧谋臒谋na 莽谋karma i艧ini bitirdim.鈥� 眉f. 鉂わ笍鈥嶐煍�
December 23, 2022
4.5
Despite everything one has to go on living.
In her typical beautifully stark and honest style, Ernaux shares her memories of her simple and industrious father, his ideas and outlook towards life.
Despite everything one has to go on living.
In her typical beautifully stark and honest style, Ernaux shares her memories of her simple and industrious father, his ideas and outlook towards life.
November 16, 2022
This is a wonderful tribute by Annie Ernaux to her father. When she received the Nobel Prize in Literature this year, she must have felt a great sense of pride on behalf of her parents, and how especially proud her father, who came from a "working class" background, would have been to see his daughter achieve world renown.
September 4, 2023
3.5 stars
French author, Annie Ernaux, showed up on my bookish radar when she won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2022.
The Academy praised 鈥渉er for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory.鈥�
This description beckoned me to explore her writing so I鈥檓 pleased to have finally read one of her books. Annie Ernaux was born in Normandy in 1940. In 鈥楢 Man鈥檚 Place,鈥� she explores memories, family stories, relationships, and emotions. Her writing is stripped down, known as 鈥渇lat writing,鈥� (l鈥檈criture plate). The tone is flat and I think some readers might describe it as emotionless, but it is because of the tone that I see many emotions swirling. In the few places where she mentions feelings or emotions, I imagine a flood of them, so much so that they finally poke through this very reserved writing style.
pg 13 - This neutral way of writing comes to me naturally. It was the same style I used when I wrote home telling my parents the latest news.
Raised in near poverty, Ernaux鈥檚 father became very conscious of class. His father took him out of school at age 12 to work on the same farm where he was working.
He started milking the cows at five o鈥檆lock in the morning, cleaning out the stables, grooming the horses, and milking the cows again in the evening. In exchange he was given a place to sleep, free meals, some pocket money, and they did his laundry for him. He slept above the stables on a straw mattress with no sheets.
Throughout the book I am reminded of my own father. I wonder if this type of writing promotes this convergence of remembrances. Or perhaps it was the similarities of their lifestyles. My father was taken out of school to work on his parent鈥檚 land at age 8; however, he lived at home until he married my mother.
Ernaux鈥檚 parents met at the rope factory. Then her father worked as a roofer. When he fell from a rafter, her parents looked for a business they could manage, one that didn鈥檛 require a lot of start-up money. They bought a grocery store. Because they had to grant credit, they struggled financially. Her father had to get a second job while her mother ran the business.
It鈥檚 taking me a long time to write. By choosing to expose the web of his life through a number of selected facts and details, I feel that I am gradually moving away from the figure of my father. The skeleton of the book takes over and ideas seem to develop of their own accord. If on the other hand I indulge in personal reminiscence, I remember him as he was, with his way of laughing and walking, taking me by the hand to the funfair. . .
I like the way she explores her thoughts and feelings. In the above paragraph, I sense her emotions of separation, the feeling of her father as unknowable, the sense of a lack of connection between them. However, when she鈥檚 not writing, but just remembering him, something warmer comes into view.
It鈥檚 a short book, less than one hundred pages, but there鈥檚 a lot packed in. Ernaux鈥檚 approach to the past doesn鈥檛 include nostalgia, which at times feels a bit strange, but perhaps suits her not fitting in but very observant personality. In an interview with Jeffrey Brown, Ernaux says that to write is to fight forgetting.鈥� I think that鈥檚 what I like best about the book . . . the remembering, the fighting to hold onto that, to become more of whoever you鈥檙e supposed to be or perhaps have decided to be or not to be because this man was your father.
French author, Annie Ernaux, showed up on my bookish radar when she won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2022.
The Academy praised 鈥渉er for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory.鈥�
This description beckoned me to explore her writing so I鈥檓 pleased to have finally read one of her books. Annie Ernaux was born in Normandy in 1940. In 鈥楢 Man鈥檚 Place,鈥� she explores memories, family stories, relationships, and emotions. Her writing is stripped down, known as 鈥渇lat writing,鈥� (l鈥檈criture plate). The tone is flat and I think some readers might describe it as emotionless, but it is because of the tone that I see many emotions swirling. In the few places where she mentions feelings or emotions, I imagine a flood of them, so much so that they finally poke through this very reserved writing style.
pg 13 - This neutral way of writing comes to me naturally. It was the same style I used when I wrote home telling my parents the latest news.
Raised in near poverty, Ernaux鈥檚 father became very conscious of class. His father took him out of school at age 12 to work on the same farm where he was working.
He started milking the cows at five o鈥檆lock in the morning, cleaning out the stables, grooming the horses, and milking the cows again in the evening. In exchange he was given a place to sleep, free meals, some pocket money, and they did his laundry for him. He slept above the stables on a straw mattress with no sheets.
Throughout the book I am reminded of my own father. I wonder if this type of writing promotes this convergence of remembrances. Or perhaps it was the similarities of their lifestyles. My father was taken out of school to work on his parent鈥檚 land at age 8; however, he lived at home until he married my mother.
Ernaux鈥檚 parents met at the rope factory. Then her father worked as a roofer. When he fell from a rafter, her parents looked for a business they could manage, one that didn鈥檛 require a lot of start-up money. They bought a grocery store. Because they had to grant credit, they struggled financially. Her father had to get a second job while her mother ran the business.
It鈥檚 taking me a long time to write. By choosing to expose the web of his life through a number of selected facts and details, I feel that I am gradually moving away from the figure of my father. The skeleton of the book takes over and ideas seem to develop of their own accord. If on the other hand I indulge in personal reminiscence, I remember him as he was, with his way of laughing and walking, taking me by the hand to the funfair. . .
I like the way she explores her thoughts and feelings. In the above paragraph, I sense her emotions of separation, the feeling of her father as unknowable, the sense of a lack of connection between them. However, when she鈥檚 not writing, but just remembering him, something warmer comes into view.
It鈥檚 a short book, less than one hundred pages, but there鈥檚 a lot packed in. Ernaux鈥檚 approach to the past doesn鈥檛 include nostalgia, which at times feels a bit strange, but perhaps suits her not fitting in but very observant personality. In an interview with Jeffrey Brown, Ernaux says that to write is to fight forgetting.鈥� I think that鈥檚 what I like best about the book . . . the remembering, the fighting to hold onto that, to become more of whoever you鈥檙e supposed to be or perhaps have decided to be or not to be because this man was your father.
December 19, 2021
Gosh. Four books in a row. This was 4.5 stars for me which rounding out makes it a 5-starrer. I can鈥檛 recall having read 4 books in a row that I loved. Christmas come early! 馃檪 馃檭
I read this 23 years ago and gave it an A. So occasionally I am consistent in my ratings.
I used to have all of Annie Ernaux鈥檚 books and like a fool gave them all away to free libraries and to used bookstores. Although I went to a used bookstore in the past several months, spied my books still on the shelf, and was willing to re-buy them, but the bookstore owner was cool and gave them back to me at no charge. 馃槉 So I re-read this one several night ago. Only 99 pages. What a read. All of the books that I know of that she has written are short like this...more or less 100 pages. I devoured them some 20 years ago and I imagine over the next year I will re-read all of them as well as read a couple I have not read as of yet.
This book is an elegy of sorts about her father, and how she perceived him. The life he had growing up, as she described it, was terribly hard. The next time I feel like whining about my lot in life I think I鈥檒l just grab this book and read a few pages and that will set me straight. Yeesh! 馃槵
He seemed like a decent guy all things considered. He was ashamed at times of his limited education and just wanted all of his life when being with others to apparently fit in and not to rock the boat or to put his foot in his mouth. I think he was proud of Annie as she went through college, but apparently he was sort of jealous of her at times and she was ashamed of him at times. But that鈥檚 normal...for the younger generation to be embarrassed at times of their parents, isn鈥檛 it?
Annie Ernaux is 81 years old.
This book goes by two names, 鈥楢 Man鈥檚 Place (Four Walls Eight Windows. 1992 and then later editions) and 鈥淧ositions鈥� (Quartet Books, 1991). I have no idea why. 馃槓
Note: In my notes at one point in the book early on I made this comment, 鈥榗an鈥檛 believe what I鈥檓 reading...鈥�. I was reading about the father鈥檚 childhood:
鈥� 鈥�...They lived in a small house with beaten earth floors and a thatched roof. All you needed to do before sweeping the floor was sprinkle it with water. They lived on their own poultry and garden vegetables, and the dairy produce my grandfather got from the farmer. Confirmations and wedding receptions were planned several months in advance. People went hungry for three days so as to make the most of it. On one occasion a child who was recovering from scarlet fever died choking while he vomited the pieces of chicken which had been forced upon him. On Sunday afternoons in summer they went to 鈥榲illage fetes鈥� when one danced and played games. One day my father reached the top of the greasy pole but slipped down before managing to unhook the basket of provisions. My grandfather flew into a rage which lasted for hours. 鈥榊ou clumsy oaf.鈥�
Reviews:
鈥�
鈥� a fine review by a blogger...
鈥�
I read this 23 years ago and gave it an A. So occasionally I am consistent in my ratings.
I used to have all of Annie Ernaux鈥檚 books and like a fool gave them all away to free libraries and to used bookstores. Although I went to a used bookstore in the past several months, spied my books still on the shelf, and was willing to re-buy them, but the bookstore owner was cool and gave them back to me at no charge. 馃槉 So I re-read this one several night ago. Only 99 pages. What a read. All of the books that I know of that she has written are short like this...more or less 100 pages. I devoured them some 20 years ago and I imagine over the next year I will re-read all of them as well as read a couple I have not read as of yet.
This book is an elegy of sorts about her father, and how she perceived him. The life he had growing up, as she described it, was terribly hard. The next time I feel like whining about my lot in life I think I鈥檒l just grab this book and read a few pages and that will set me straight. Yeesh! 馃槵
He seemed like a decent guy all things considered. He was ashamed at times of his limited education and just wanted all of his life when being with others to apparently fit in and not to rock the boat or to put his foot in his mouth. I think he was proud of Annie as she went through college, but apparently he was sort of jealous of her at times and she was ashamed of him at times. But that鈥檚 normal...for the younger generation to be embarrassed at times of their parents, isn鈥檛 it?
Annie Ernaux is 81 years old.
This book goes by two names, 鈥楢 Man鈥檚 Place (Four Walls Eight Windows. 1992 and then later editions) and 鈥淧ositions鈥� (Quartet Books, 1991). I have no idea why. 馃槓
Note: In my notes at one point in the book early on I made this comment, 鈥榗an鈥檛 believe what I鈥檓 reading...鈥�. I was reading about the father鈥檚 childhood:
鈥� 鈥�...They lived in a small house with beaten earth floors and a thatched roof. All you needed to do before sweeping the floor was sprinkle it with water. They lived on their own poultry and garden vegetables, and the dairy produce my grandfather got from the farmer. Confirmations and wedding receptions were planned several months in advance. People went hungry for three days so as to make the most of it. On one occasion a child who was recovering from scarlet fever died choking while he vomited the pieces of chicken which had been forced upon him. On Sunday afternoons in summer they went to 鈥榲illage fetes鈥� when one danced and played games. One day my father reached the top of the greasy pole but slipped down before managing to unhook the basket of provisions. My grandfather flew into a rage which lasted for hours. 鈥榊ou clumsy oaf.鈥�
Reviews:
鈥�
鈥� a fine review by a blogger...
鈥�
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March 30, 2023Esse foi o primeiro livro que li da vencedora do Pr锚mio Nobel de 2022. A leitura foi feita ano passado, antes mesmo do an煤ncio do Pr锚mio. Ou seja, fui sem conhecer muito o trabalho de Annie e tamb茅m sem saber o que iria encontrar. E, no final, confesso que a leitura n茫o me conquistou tanto. Foi uma experi锚ncia boa, mas n茫o marcante, principalmente quando comparo com as duas outras leituras que acabei fazendo esse ano (Os anos e O acontecimento).
Em O lugar, encontramos o mesmo estilo da autora, que a deixou conhecida no mundo liter谩rio: a capacidade de escrever hist贸rias envolventes a partir de suas mem贸rias, mas com uma vis茫o menos pessoal. Ela se distancia do que viveu, como se contasse as mem贸rias de um outro.
Nessa leitura, inclusive, Annie faz isso de forma mais n铆tida, j谩 que ela utiliza a figura do pai para refletir sobre a rela莽茫o entre os dois e fazer uma an谩lise de sua realidade social. Seu pai era um trabalhador simples, que passou pelas duas grandes guerras e viveu as transforma莽玫es da Fran莽a do s茅culo passado. Por outro lado, Annie teve uma ascens茫o social por ter tido a oportunidade de uma boa educa莽茫o e de ingressar na Universidade. Seu livro 茅 uma autossociobiografia.
A tem谩tica e a escrita s茫o os pontos altos do livro, que conta com menos de 80 p谩ginas. A forma como Annie relata a sua rela莽茫o com o pai 茅 muito objetiva e distante, o que, nessa caso, n茫o me cativou tanto. Talvez isso tenha feito com que eu demorasse muito tempo para escrever essa resenha, como se eu precisasse entender o que aquelas poucas p谩ginas deixaram em mim. Hoje, sei que o mais importante foi a vontade de conhecer outras obras da autora - o que, confesso, valeu muito 脿 pena!
鈥淭alvez eu escreva porqu锚 n茫o t铆nhamos mais nada para escrever um ao outro.鈥�
Nota 8/10
Em O lugar, encontramos o mesmo estilo da autora, que a deixou conhecida no mundo liter谩rio: a capacidade de escrever hist贸rias envolventes a partir de suas mem贸rias, mas com uma vis茫o menos pessoal. Ela se distancia do que viveu, como se contasse as mem贸rias de um outro.
Nessa leitura, inclusive, Annie faz isso de forma mais n铆tida, j谩 que ela utiliza a figura do pai para refletir sobre a rela莽茫o entre os dois e fazer uma an谩lise de sua realidade social. Seu pai era um trabalhador simples, que passou pelas duas grandes guerras e viveu as transforma莽玫es da Fran莽a do s茅culo passado. Por outro lado, Annie teve uma ascens茫o social por ter tido a oportunidade de uma boa educa莽茫o e de ingressar na Universidade. Seu livro 茅 uma autossociobiografia.
A tem谩tica e a escrita s茫o os pontos altos do livro, que conta com menos de 80 p谩ginas. A forma como Annie relata a sua rela莽茫o com o pai 茅 muito objetiva e distante, o que, nessa caso, n茫o me cativou tanto. Talvez isso tenha feito com que eu demorasse muito tempo para escrever essa resenha, como se eu precisasse entender o que aquelas poucas p谩ginas deixaram em mim. Hoje, sei que o mais importante foi a vontade de conhecer outras obras da autora - o que, confesso, valeu muito 脿 pena!
鈥淭alvez eu escreva porqu锚 n茫o t铆nhamos mais nada para escrever um ao outro.鈥�
Nota 8/10
July 15, 2023
Sparse observations on the impact of class and generational differences on how close one can be with a parent. The language of Ernaux is precise and captures the universal well
Maybe I am writing because we no longer had anything to say to each other.
is a work that has more impact than its 70 odd pages initially implies. initially takes us into the world her ancestors grew up in. Harsh, medieval like circumstances when her father grew up with lice, worms and the rhythm of the harvest and schoolbooks that said One should learn always to be content with one鈥檚 lot. This set in cities in North France where three quarters of the population work in the textile industry.
Her father is focussed on appearing in good standing to the community, making a success of his small grocery shop. One can already soon imagine how this leads to a divide between him and his daughter. I felt the portrayal, while being factual, to be emotional. As a reader you feel the distance between generations, how people are shaped by their upbringing and can't transcend these bounds even with those theoretically closest to them. At times I recognise the same with my father, who almost always ask me if I still have a job, himself having grown up in the eighties with hundreds of rejection letters, while I completely feel different about the subject.
A small gem of a work, and I deeply appreciate the work of Ernaux being so crisp, small in size but high in impact. You can loose yourself for a few hours in her books and have food for thought for many, many days.
Quotes:
Although it had something to do with class, it was different, indefinable. Like fractured love.
We had everything that was necessary, meaning we didn鈥檛 go hungry
His obsession: What are people going to say?
There was hatred and servility, and the hatred he felt towards his own servility
Not wanting to seem provincial
Study was the price one had to pay to get a decent job and avoid ending up with a factory worker
He used to say I was a good learner, never a good worker. Work was only ever done with your hands.
Maybe I am writing because we no longer had anything to say to each other.
They were convinced that being well-read and well-mannered were marks of an inner excellence that was innate.
I felt divided within myself
Now I have finished unearthing the legacy which I had to leave at the door when I entered the educated, bourgeois world.
Maybe I am writing because we no longer had anything to say to each other.
is a work that has more impact than its 70 odd pages initially implies. initially takes us into the world her ancestors grew up in. Harsh, medieval like circumstances when her father grew up with lice, worms and the rhythm of the harvest and schoolbooks that said One should learn always to be content with one鈥檚 lot. This set in cities in North France where three quarters of the population work in the textile industry.
Her father is focussed on appearing in good standing to the community, making a success of his small grocery shop. One can already soon imagine how this leads to a divide between him and his daughter. I felt the portrayal, while being factual, to be emotional. As a reader you feel the distance between generations, how people are shaped by their upbringing and can't transcend these bounds even with those theoretically closest to them. At times I recognise the same with my father, who almost always ask me if I still have a job, himself having grown up in the eighties with hundreds of rejection letters, while I completely feel different about the subject.
A small gem of a work, and I deeply appreciate the work of Ernaux being so crisp, small in size but high in impact. You can loose yourself for a few hours in her books and have food for thought for many, many days.
Quotes:
Although it had something to do with class, it was different, indefinable. Like fractured love.
We had everything that was necessary, meaning we didn鈥檛 go hungry
His obsession: What are people going to say?
There was hatred and servility, and the hatred he felt towards his own servility
Not wanting to seem provincial
Study was the price one had to pay to get a decent job and avoid ending up with a factory worker
He used to say I was a good learner, never a good worker. Work was only ever done with your hands.
Maybe I am writing because we no longer had anything to say to each other.
They were convinced that being well-read and well-mannered were marks of an inner excellence that was innate.
I felt divided within myself
Now I have finished unearthing the legacy which I had to leave at the door when I entered the educated, bourgeois world.
May 15, 2022
Okuduklar谋m aras谋nda en sevdi臒im Annie Ernaux kitab谋 olmad谋 belki ama art谋k 艧unu s枚yleyebilirim bence: 艧u kad谋na bir Nobel verin! Verirken de t谋pk谋 Svetlana Aleksiyevi莽鈥檈 verirken s枚yledi臒iniz gibi, 鈥測eni bir edebi t眉r yaratt谋臒谋 i莽in鈥� verin 枚d眉l眉. Zira en bariz 艧ekilde Seneler鈥檇e g枚rd眉臒眉m眉z; bireysel ve biricik olana bak谋p acayip toplumsal panoramalar 莽谋karmak i艧ini m眉thi艧 bir maharetle kotar谋yor kendisi, bunu bu derinlikte yapan ba艧ka yazar ben tan谋mad谋m. Babam谋n Yeri de yine babas谋yla k眉莽眉k, belki 枚nemsiz ve s谋radan bile denebilecek an谋lar谋 眉zerinden bir ku艧a臒a, toplumun d枚n眉艧眉m眉ne, o d枚n眉艧眉m眉n izlerine bakt谋臒谋 bir eser Ernaux鈥檔un. Sanki so臒uk, mesafeli bir yerden babas谋n谋n 枚l眉m眉n眉 ve hayat谋n谋 anlat谋yor gibi yazar ama asl谋nda her kelimesine sinmi艧 h眉zn眉 ve duygu yo臒unlu臒unu sezmek zor de臒il. Bamba艧ka bir co臒rafyada, bamba艧ka bir k眉lt眉rde babas谋yla 眉lkemizdekine benzer 艧ekilde ili艧kilenmi艧 / ili艧kilenememi艧 birileri oldu臒unu okumak da ayr谋ca 莽ok acayipti. 70 sayfal谋k bu k眉莽眉k kitab谋 okuyunuz l眉tfen. Sevece臒inize eminim.
October 13, 2022
Congratulations to Annie Ernaux for being awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2022!
La Place, or The Place, or Positions, is entitled A Man鈥檚 Place on the hardcover edition I bought in the mid-eighties that you see above. I can鈥檛 recall if I ever read it, but I thought I would read it in conjunction with a long unfinished novel I mess around with from time to time about my own father. I also read it now because I saw Ilse had been reading Ernaux鈥檚 work and as so often happens with Ilse, she nudged me (gently, urgently) through her lovely review to read her work. I felt called by her and was glad she did. Is she a great writer in this book? I don't know, it's an unspectacular story and style, at least in this translation, but also quietly moving.
The core of this short book (and most of her books are short, part of a larger memoir project) is of course about her father, begun at the occasion of his death. It is also about a time and a place, mid twentieth century France. Ernaux writes of her struggle to move out of the working-class life in which she was raised to the middle class--university, teaching primary school, marrying 鈥渨ell鈥� into her husband鈥檚 middle class family, becoming an academic and a writer. Her father鈥檚 pride and sense of loss about her moving out and 鈥渦p鈥� was mirrored by her own pride and sense of loss.
鈥淲hen I read Proust or Mauriac, I don't think they evoke the time when my father was a child. Its setting is the Middle Ages.鈥�
Ernaux鈥檚 father had a hard life, though he was able to move out of the factory with his wife to buy a grocery store with an adjoining small cafe in a working class neighborhood. So this is a book about class, an 鈥渙rdinary鈥� lived life, not a biography, exactly, as it is about 100 pages. And then there is Ernaux鈥檚 (shared with us) wrestling with how to approach the story. She tells us she initially tried to begin a novel about him, but became 鈥渄isgusted鈥� with the ways it felt betrayed his working class, non-literary roots. Something else was needed, a different, unadorned tone, something more consistent with his life. And at least more consistent with his straightforward language. For him, a simple man:
鈥淓verything that touches on language is, in my memory, a cause for resentment and painful bickering, much more than money.鈥�
He would be honored by her book about him, I think, but also he'd make fun of her seriousness, including some of the (very few) observations of an educated daughter, though she is careful to honor him though her use of language. She uses words to create a man, her father, though they are not quite his words. They are a daughter's loving, respectful words.
I liked it, thought it felt quite familiar to me, almost as if I had written it myself about my own father, who was born in 1913 and died at the age of 76, close to twenty years ago, on the operating table, in heart by-pass surgery. That was the single worst moment of my life, having the surgeon report to us the news. I thought my own heart would literally burst from grief as I heard from the surgeon this news. I was close to him, in a non-verbal way. I was the fifth of six children, loved him very much, though I was quietly somewhat ashamed he was so much older than my friends' fathers, and uneducated as I myself went to school.
Arnold-Arnie, my father's name--taught me his working-class ways: How to bowl, hunt, fish, repair a car--men鈥檚 things, and he was both proud and fearful that I went to college to become a teacher with few really practical skills. He thought I lacked practical sense and skills, and did what he could to instill ta foundation for survival. I think because I wrote poetry and acted in plays that he feared I was gay, if true a possible source of isolation and abuse especially in the fifties. He hoped to protect me from my artsy sensitive tendencies and toughen me up. Kill a deer! Bowl a strike! I never asked any of my college friends to visit my family, I am now ashamed to say.
I felt in many ways that Ernaux鈥檚 class struggle with the father she loved was so like mine that I would nod as I read. As I now turn myself to old age, I am glad I have finally read it. Maybe I can turn to writing about my own father again because she urges me to, as she urges us all to do. I can鈥檛 imagine any reader doesn鈥檛 think in some way of the same thing, that his complicated life is worth telling. On to read about Ernaux's mother!
La Place, or The Place, or Positions, is entitled A Man鈥檚 Place on the hardcover edition I bought in the mid-eighties that you see above. I can鈥檛 recall if I ever read it, but I thought I would read it in conjunction with a long unfinished novel I mess around with from time to time about my own father. I also read it now because I saw Ilse had been reading Ernaux鈥檚 work and as so often happens with Ilse, she nudged me (gently, urgently) through her lovely review to read her work. I felt called by her and was glad she did. Is she a great writer in this book? I don't know, it's an unspectacular story and style, at least in this translation, but also quietly moving.
The core of this short book (and most of her books are short, part of a larger memoir project) is of course about her father, begun at the occasion of his death. It is also about a time and a place, mid twentieth century France. Ernaux writes of her struggle to move out of the working-class life in which she was raised to the middle class--university, teaching primary school, marrying 鈥渨ell鈥� into her husband鈥檚 middle class family, becoming an academic and a writer. Her father鈥檚 pride and sense of loss about her moving out and 鈥渦p鈥� was mirrored by her own pride and sense of loss.
鈥淲hen I read Proust or Mauriac, I don't think they evoke the time when my father was a child. Its setting is the Middle Ages.鈥�
Ernaux鈥檚 father had a hard life, though he was able to move out of the factory with his wife to buy a grocery store with an adjoining small cafe in a working class neighborhood. So this is a book about class, an 鈥渙rdinary鈥� lived life, not a biography, exactly, as it is about 100 pages. And then there is Ernaux鈥檚 (shared with us) wrestling with how to approach the story. She tells us she initially tried to begin a novel about him, but became 鈥渄isgusted鈥� with the ways it felt betrayed his working class, non-literary roots. Something else was needed, a different, unadorned tone, something more consistent with his life. And at least more consistent with his straightforward language. For him, a simple man:
鈥淓verything that touches on language is, in my memory, a cause for resentment and painful bickering, much more than money.鈥�
He would be honored by her book about him, I think, but also he'd make fun of her seriousness, including some of the (very few) observations of an educated daughter, though she is careful to honor him though her use of language. She uses words to create a man, her father, though they are not quite his words. They are a daughter's loving, respectful words.
I liked it, thought it felt quite familiar to me, almost as if I had written it myself about my own father, who was born in 1913 and died at the age of 76, close to twenty years ago, on the operating table, in heart by-pass surgery. That was the single worst moment of my life, having the surgeon report to us the news. I thought my own heart would literally burst from grief as I heard from the surgeon this news. I was close to him, in a non-verbal way. I was the fifth of six children, loved him very much, though I was quietly somewhat ashamed he was so much older than my friends' fathers, and uneducated as I myself went to school.
Arnold-Arnie, my father's name--taught me his working-class ways: How to bowl, hunt, fish, repair a car--men鈥檚 things, and he was both proud and fearful that I went to college to become a teacher with few really practical skills. He thought I lacked practical sense and skills, and did what he could to instill ta foundation for survival. I think because I wrote poetry and acted in plays that he feared I was gay, if true a possible source of isolation and abuse especially in the fifties. He hoped to protect me from my artsy sensitive tendencies and toughen me up. Kill a deer! Bowl a strike! I never asked any of my college friends to visit my family, I am now ashamed to say.
I felt in many ways that Ernaux鈥檚 class struggle with the father she loved was so like mine that I would nod as I read. As I now turn myself to old age, I am glad I have finally read it. Maybe I can turn to writing about my own father again because she urges me to, as she urges us all to do. I can鈥檛 imagine any reader doesn鈥檛 think in some way of the same thing, that his complicated life is worth telling. On to read about Ernaux's mother!
January 23, 2018
these french writers and their fragile lives enclosed in steely armour. the cliche is Passion but my experience has been Passionless Renderings of Puppet Lives. intellectual, tr猫s intellectual. Ernaux does write beautifully. she also writes like the Queen of Insects, studying her insect kingdom, watching and reporting on their movements, their scurrying, their little lives. how can such a good writer be a writer who leaves me so cold? still, the style is compelling if not particularly moving. Spare. Dry. Unromantic. the novel as a brilliant analysis, as a clinical dissection - with just as much warmth. if i were to judge a country based on its books, i would assume that France is draped in perpetual winter. the novel is apparently considered a national treasure. oh, you french people. so french!
November 13, 2020
11/2020: Trong l煤c d峄峮 nh脿 qua ch峄� 峄� m峄沬, t矛nh c峄� t么i b岷痶 g岷穚 cu峄憂 s谩ch n脿y m脿 s峄痭g l岷 m峄檛 ch煤t. Th峄眂 s峄� th矛 t么i 膽茫 膽峄峜 cu峄憂 ti峄僽 thuy岷縯 m峄弉g n脿y c谩ch 膽芒y 6 n膬m, khi n贸 v峄玜 膽瓢峄 xu岷 b岷, m峄檛 cu峄憂 s谩ch 膽瓢峄 vi岷縯 v峄沬 s峄� 膽i峄乵 t末nh 膽谩ng ng岷 nhi锚n khi th峄眂 ra 膽芒y l脿 m峄檛 cu峄憂 ti峄僽 thuy岷縯 b谩n t峄� truy峄噉 k峄� v峄� ch铆nh cha c峄 t谩c gi岷�.
V脿 t么i 膽茫 ph岷 b峄� vi峄嘽 d峄峮 nh脿 sang m峄檛 b锚n, 膽峄� 膽峄峜 l岷 cu峄憂 s谩ch m峄檛 l岷 n峄痑, c贸 l岷� ch峄� v矛 c谩i t锚n mang l岷 nhi峄乽 膽峄搉g c岷 v峄沬 t矛nh tr岷g hi峄噉 t岷 c峄 b岷 th芒n, 峄� th矛, ai l岷 ch岷硁g c岷 m峄檛 ch峄� trong 膽峄漣, nh瓢ng "ch峄�" 岷 l脿 m峄檛 n啤i ch峄憂 c峄� th峄� nh瓢ng c农ng c贸 th峄� ch峄� l脿 m峄檛 ai 膽贸 膽峄� ta n瓢啤ng t峄盿 m脿 ch峄� c峄 ta l脿 峄� b锚n c岷h ng瓢峄漣 膽贸.
膼瓢峄 vi岷縯 v峄沬 l峄慽 tr岷 thu岷璽 v脿 nh峄痭g c芒u v膬n g茫y g峄峮 nh瓢 th峄� ch岷硁g c贸 t铆 c岷 x煤c n脿o, nh瓢 th峄� 膽ang k峄� v峄� m峄檛 ai 膽贸 xa l岷�, Annie Ernaux th峄眂 ra 膽ang c峄� g岷痭g che gi岷 nh峄痭g t矛nh c岷 d岷 d脿o kh么ng bi岷縯 c谩ch n脿o 膽峄� th峄� l峄� c峄 ng瓢峄漣 con d脿nh cho ng瓢峄漣 cha - c贸 v岷� kh么 khan, xa c谩ch v峄� t矛nh c岷 - c峄 m矛nh.
L脿m sao 膽峄� c贸 th峄� t瓢峄漬g t岷璶 膽瓢峄 nh峄痭g d岷眓 x茅 c峄 ng瓢峄漣 b峄� v峄� xu岷 th芒n c峄 m矛nh, v峄� n峄梚 khao kh谩t 膽瓢峄 tr峄� th脿nh m峄檛 ng瓢峄漣 trong c谩i c峄檔g 膽峄搉g 膽茫 ch峄慽 么ng m脿 kh么ng c贸 s峄� quan t芒m 膽岷縩 nh峄痭g 膽i峄乽 nh峄� nh岷穞 膽峄慽 v峄沬 ng瓢峄漣 m脿 m矛nh y锚u th瓢啤ng?
V峄沬 "M峄檛 ch峄� trong 膽峄漣", Annie Ernaux th峄� hi峄噉 t脿i n膬ng hi岷縨 c贸 c峄 m峄檛 nh脿 v膬n khi vi岷縯 v峄� ch峄� 膽峄� gia 膽矛nh, m脿 c贸 l岷� c农ng nh岷璶 ra 膽i峄乽 n脿y m脿 khi sau ti峄僽 thuy岷縯 n脿y, b脿 膽茫 chuy峄僴 h岷硁 sang vi岷縯 nh峄痭g cu峄憂 s谩ch b谩n t峄� truy峄噉 t瓢啤ng t峄�, v脿 膽峄乽 g芒y 膽瓢峄 s峄� x煤c 膽峄檔g s芒u xa trong l貌ng ng瓢峄漣 膽峄峜.
2016: cu峄憂 s谩ch g芒y 岷 t瓢峄g b峄焛 s峄� gi岷 d峄� v脿 膽i v脿o l貌ng t么i b峄焛 s峄� ch芒n th脿nh, t矛nh y锚u c峄 ng瓢峄漣 con g谩i 膽峄慽 v峄沬 b峄� nh瓢ng l岷 c峄� t峄� ra d峄璶g d瓢ng, ch峄慽 b峄� t矛nh c岷 岷. N岷縰 kh么ng c贸 t矛nh y锚u, l脿m sao c贸 th峄� c贸 nh峄痭g quan s谩t t峄� m峄� v脿 th岷 hi峄僽 nh瓢 th岷�?
V脿 t么i 膽茫 ph岷 b峄� vi峄嘽 d峄峮 nh脿 sang m峄檛 b锚n, 膽峄� 膽峄峜 l岷 cu峄憂 s谩ch m峄檛 l岷 n峄痑, c贸 l岷� ch峄� v矛 c谩i t锚n mang l岷 nhi峄乽 膽峄搉g c岷 v峄沬 t矛nh tr岷g hi峄噉 t岷 c峄 b岷 th芒n, 峄� th矛, ai l岷 ch岷硁g c岷 m峄檛 ch峄� trong 膽峄漣, nh瓢ng "ch峄�" 岷 l脿 m峄檛 n啤i ch峄憂 c峄� th峄� nh瓢ng c农ng c贸 th峄� ch峄� l脿 m峄檛 ai 膽贸 膽峄� ta n瓢啤ng t峄盿 m脿 ch峄� c峄 ta l脿 峄� b锚n c岷h ng瓢峄漣 膽贸.
膼瓢峄 vi岷縯 v峄沬 l峄慽 tr岷 thu岷璽 v脿 nh峄痭g c芒u v膬n g茫y g峄峮 nh瓢 th峄� ch岷硁g c贸 t铆 c岷 x煤c n脿o, nh瓢 th峄� 膽ang k峄� v峄� m峄檛 ai 膽贸 xa l岷�, Annie Ernaux th峄眂 ra 膽ang c峄� g岷痭g che gi岷 nh峄痭g t矛nh c岷 d岷 d脿o kh么ng bi岷縯 c谩ch n脿o 膽峄� th峄� l峄� c峄 ng瓢峄漣 con d脿nh cho ng瓢峄漣 cha - c贸 v岷� kh么 khan, xa c谩ch v峄� t矛nh c岷 - c峄 m矛nh.
L脿m sao 膽峄� c贸 th峄� t瓢峄漬g t岷璶 膽瓢峄 nh峄痭g d岷眓 x茅 c峄 ng瓢峄漣 b峄� v峄� xu岷 th芒n c峄 m矛nh, v峄� n峄梚 khao kh谩t 膽瓢峄 tr峄� th脿nh m峄檛 ng瓢峄漣 trong c谩i c峄檔g 膽峄搉g 膽茫 ch峄慽 么ng m脿 kh么ng c贸 s峄� quan t芒m 膽岷縩 nh峄痭g 膽i峄乽 nh峄� nh岷穞 膽峄慽 v峄沬 ng瓢峄漣 m脿 m矛nh y锚u th瓢啤ng?
V峄沬 "M峄檛 ch峄� trong 膽峄漣", Annie Ernaux th峄� hi峄噉 t脿i n膬ng hi岷縨 c贸 c峄 m峄檛 nh脿 v膬n khi vi岷縯 v峄� ch峄� 膽峄� gia 膽矛nh, m脿 c贸 l岷� c农ng nh岷璶 ra 膽i峄乽 n脿y m脿 khi sau ti峄僽 thuy岷縯 n脿y, b脿 膽茫 chuy峄僴 h岷硁 sang vi岷縯 nh峄痭g cu峄憂 s谩ch b谩n t峄� truy峄噉 t瓢啤ng t峄�, v脿 膽峄乽 g芒y 膽瓢峄 s峄� x煤c 膽峄檔g s芒u xa trong l貌ng ng瓢峄漣 膽峄峜.
2016: cu峄憂 s谩ch g芒y 岷 t瓢峄g b峄焛 s峄� gi岷 d峄� v脿 膽i v脿o l貌ng t么i b峄焛 s峄� ch芒n th脿nh, t矛nh y锚u c峄 ng瓢峄漣 con g谩i 膽峄慽 v峄沬 b峄� nh瓢ng l岷 c峄� t峄� ra d峄璶g d瓢ng, ch峄慽 b峄� t矛nh c岷 岷. N岷縰 kh么ng c贸 t矛nh y锚u, l脿m sao c贸 th峄� c贸 nh峄痭g quan s谩t t峄� m峄� v脿 th岷 hi峄僽 nh瓢 th岷�?
October 16, 2022
LETTERATURA COME ESISTENZA DOPO L'ESISTENZA
Un romanzo che segue la vita di un padre, il padre della narratrice, un operaio diventato commerciante, iniziando dalla sua scomparsa e andando a ritroso, per poi ricongiungersi, di nuovo, con l'inizio.
Lo stile 猫 diretto, analitico, come in tutti i romanzi di Ernaux. L'autrice sembra essere sempre in grado di identificare le forme mentis dei genitori anche in diverse situazioni e anche a distanza di anni. Mi meraviglio sempre della capacit脿 di Ernaux di evocare ricordi cos矛 vividi, nonostante lei stessa ammetta di non ricordare sempre tutto.
Tuttavia manca una riflessione generale (inusuale rispetto a romanzi come Memoria di ragazza o L'evento), e forse il lettore ne avrebbe avuto bisogno anche in quest'opera. Un tentativo almeno, anche se inconcludente, di interpretare il rapporto con il padre in qualche maniera, di unire i punti per capire le tracce che il passaggio attraverso il mondo di questa persona ha lasciato e l'influenza su chi ci 猫 rimasto.
O forse la bellissima conclusione del romanzo, che fa pensare allo scorrere impietoso del tempo, a un mondo superato, continuamente in rinnovamento, suggerisce, appunto, questo (?): il tempo ci spazza via, 猫 la letteratura l'unica a poter conservare (chiss脿 per quanto?) un minimo, vago, sempre soggettivo ricordo di noi.
Un romanzo che segue la vita di un padre, il padre della narratrice, un operaio diventato commerciante, iniziando dalla sua scomparsa e andando a ritroso, per poi ricongiungersi, di nuovo, con l'inizio.
Lo stile 猫 diretto, analitico, come in tutti i romanzi di Ernaux. L'autrice sembra essere sempre in grado di identificare le forme mentis dei genitori anche in diverse situazioni e anche a distanza di anni. Mi meraviglio sempre della capacit脿 di Ernaux di evocare ricordi cos矛 vividi, nonostante lei stessa ammetta di non ricordare sempre tutto.
Tuttavia manca una riflessione generale (inusuale rispetto a romanzi come Memoria di ragazza o L'evento), e forse il lettore ne avrebbe avuto bisogno anche in quest'opera. Un tentativo almeno, anche se inconcludente, di interpretare il rapporto con il padre in qualche maniera, di unire i punti per capire le tracce che il passaggio attraverso il mondo di questa persona ha lasciato e l'influenza su chi ci 猫 rimasto.
O forse la bellissima conclusione del romanzo, che fa pensare allo scorrere impietoso del tempo, a un mondo superato, continuamente in rinnovamento, suggerisce, appunto, questo (?): il tempo ci spazza via, 猫 la letteratura l'unica a poter conservare (chiss脿 per quanto?) un minimo, vago, sempre soggettivo ricordo di noi.
October 12, 2022
Ao mesmo tempo que faz uma homenagem a seu falecido pai em O lugar, Annie Ernaux parece realizar uma autocr铆tica. N茫o 茅 a toa que a autora tenha citado Jean Genet em sua ep铆grafe 脿 sua obra: Arrisco uma explica莽茫o, escrever 茅 o 煤ltimo recurso quando se traiu.
Ernaux realiza um comp锚ndio de sua fam铆lia normanda na pequena Y. (possivelmente Yvetot), tendo os seus pais nascido em situa莽玫es de grande mis茅ria numa Fran莽a que em pleno s茅culo XIX e in铆cio do s茅culo XX ainda aparentava condi莽玫es de vida quase medievais em muitas de suas regi玫es.
S茫o as lutas di谩rias de pai e m茫e que propiciam 脿 autora o seu futuro, mas cada vez mais a dist芒ncia da realidade vivida at茅 o in铆cio de sua idade adulta, como se fosse necess谩rio fugir desse passado e da vida r煤stica e interiorana. De fato, a vida burguesa propiciada pelo veloz desenvolvimento no p贸s-guerra leva a uma grande transforma莽茫o da sociedade, embora n茫o alcance a todos; e quando alcance, pode se traduzir em vidas em condi莽玫es prec谩rias.
S茫o esses homens e mulheres que ficaram para tr谩s, pais, m茫es, av贸s, tios e tias, etc., que de certo modo a autora tamb茅m homenageia, numa escrita que procura estar mais pr贸xima 脿 simplicidade das cartas e das not铆cias que enviava a seus pais. N茫o h谩 floreios, nem adjetivos, nem sentimentalismos ou ao menos choro, mas a vida como ela acontece. E 茅 assim que, apesar de aparentemente poderem parecer insignificantes, essas se apresentam em sua imensa dignidade.
Logo n茫o terei nada mais para escrever. Queria adiar as 煤ltimas p谩ginas, queria que elas pudessem estar sempre 脿 minha frente. Mas n茫o 茅 poss铆vel voltar muito atr谩s, corrigir ou acrescentar coisas, e nem mesmo me perguntar onde estava a felicidade.
Ernaux realiza um comp锚ndio de sua fam铆lia normanda na pequena Y. (possivelmente Yvetot), tendo os seus pais nascido em situa莽玫es de grande mis茅ria numa Fran莽a que em pleno s茅culo XIX e in铆cio do s茅culo XX ainda aparentava condi莽玫es de vida quase medievais em muitas de suas regi玫es.
S茫o as lutas di谩rias de pai e m茫e que propiciam 脿 autora o seu futuro, mas cada vez mais a dist芒ncia da realidade vivida at茅 o in铆cio de sua idade adulta, como se fosse necess谩rio fugir desse passado e da vida r煤stica e interiorana. De fato, a vida burguesa propiciada pelo veloz desenvolvimento no p贸s-guerra leva a uma grande transforma莽茫o da sociedade, embora n茫o alcance a todos; e quando alcance, pode se traduzir em vidas em condi莽玫es prec谩rias.
S茫o esses homens e mulheres que ficaram para tr谩s, pais, m茫es, av贸s, tios e tias, etc., que de certo modo a autora tamb茅m homenageia, numa escrita que procura estar mais pr贸xima 脿 simplicidade das cartas e das not铆cias que enviava a seus pais. N茫o h谩 floreios, nem adjetivos, nem sentimentalismos ou ao menos choro, mas a vida como ela acontece. E 茅 assim que, apesar de aparentemente poderem parecer insignificantes, essas se apresentam em sua imensa dignidade.
Logo n茫o terei nada mais para escrever. Queria adiar as 煤ltimas p谩ginas, queria que elas pudessem estar sempre 脿 minha frente. Mas n茫o 茅 poss铆vel voltar muito atr谩s, corrigir ou acrescentar coisas, e nem mesmo me perguntar onde estava a felicidade.
October 23, 2023
袠蟹褍蟹械褌薪芯!
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 写邪褬械 懈蟹胁邪薪褉械写邪薪 锌芯褉褌褉械褌 褋胁芯谐 锌褉械屑懈薪褍谢芯谐 芯褑邪 懈 褮懈褏芯胁芯谐 屑械褣褍褋芯斜薪芯谐 芯写薪芯褋邪, 泻邪芯 懈 芯褔械胁芯谐 芯写薪芯褋邪 褋邪 写褉褍谐懈屑邪 褍 褋胁芯屑 芯泻褉褍卸械褮褍. 袨褋懈屑 褌芯谐邪, 褍 芯胁懈褏 薪械锌褍薪懈褏 褋褌芯褌懈薪褍 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪 褋褌邪谢邪 褬械 懈 褬械写薪邪 褕懈褉邪 褋谢懈泻邪 褎褉邪薪褑褍褋泻芯谐 写褉褍褕褌胁邪 褍 褉邪褌薪芯屑 懈 锌芯褉邪褌薪芯屑 锌械褉懈芯写褍.
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 褋胁芯谐邪 芯褑邪 薪械褋褍屑褮懈胁芯 胁芯谢懈, 懈 胁械褉薪芯 褬械 锌褉懈泻邪蟹邪谢邪 褉邪写薪懈褔泻懈, 屑邪谢芯谐褉邪褣邪薪褋泻懈 屑械薪褌邪谢懈褌械褌 褮械谐邪 懈 褮械薪械 屑邪褬泻械. 袨胁芯 薪械 屑懈褋谢懈屑 褍 锌械褬芯褉邪褌懈胁薪芯屑 褋屑懈褋谢褍; 薪邪锌褉芯褌懈胁, 芯薪懈 褋褍 锌芯褕褌械薪懈 褭褍写懈 泻芯褬懈屑邪 褬械 褑懈褭 写邪 锌褉械屑邪 褋胁芯褬懈屑 屑芯谐褍褯薪芯褋褌懈屑邪 芯斜械蟹斜械写械 薪邪褬斜芯褭械 褍褋谢芯胁械 蟹邪 褋胁芯褬械 写械褌械, 写邪 褬芯褬 芯斜械蟹斜械写械 褮械薪芯 屑械褋褌芯 锌芯写 褋褍薪褑械屑. 袠锌邪泻, 芯薪邪 褬械 斜芯谢薪芯 褋胁械褋薪邪 褋胁械 胁械褯械谐 泻褍谢褌褍褉芯谢芯褕泻芯谐 褬邪蟹邪 屑械褣褍 褮懈屑邪, 泻芯褬懈 褋械 锌褉芯写褍斜褭褍褬械 褮械薪懈屑 芯斜褉邪蟹芯胁邪褮械屑 懈 褋褌懈褑邪褮械屑 褋褌邪褌褍褋邪. 孝邪泻芯 褯械 褭褍斜邪胁 锌褉械屑邪 芯褑褍 芯褋褌邪褌懈 褋褍蟹写褉卸邪薪邪, 薪懈泻邪写邪 写芯胁芯褭薪芯 懈蟹褉邪卸械薪邪.
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 褬械 械泻芯薪芯屑懈褔薪邪, 褋褍蟹写褉卸邪薪邪 褋邪 褉械褔懈屑邪, 邪谢懈 褌邪 褕泻褉褌芯褋褌 谐芯胁芯褉懈 屑薪芯谐芯 胁懈褕械 薪械谐芯 褏懈褭邪写械 写褉褍谐懈褏 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪 懈 褍 褌芯屑械 懈 褬械褋褌械 屑邪褬褋褌芯褉褋褌胁芯.
袨胁芯 褬械 泻褮懈卸械胁薪芯褋褌 泻邪泻胁褍 胁芯谢懈屑 懈 褬械写胁邪 褔械泻邪屑 写邪 薪邪褋褌邪胁懈屑 褋邪 懈褕褔懈褌邪胁邪褮械屑 袝褉薪芯懈薪芯谐 写械谢邪.
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 写邪褬械 懈蟹胁邪薪褉械写邪薪 锌芯褉褌褉械褌 褋胁芯谐 锌褉械屑懈薪褍谢芯谐 芯褑邪 懈 褮懈褏芯胁芯谐 屑械褣褍褋芯斜薪芯谐 芯写薪芯褋邪, 泻邪芯 懈 芯褔械胁芯谐 芯写薪芯褋邪 褋邪 写褉褍谐懈屑邪 褍 褋胁芯屑 芯泻褉褍卸械褮褍. 袨褋懈屑 褌芯谐邪, 褍 芯胁懈褏 薪械锌褍薪懈褏 褋褌芯褌懈薪褍 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪 褋褌邪谢邪 褬械 懈 褬械写薪邪 褕懈褉邪 褋谢懈泻邪 褎褉邪薪褑褍褋泻芯谐 写褉褍褕褌胁邪 褍 褉邪褌薪芯屑 懈 锌芯褉邪褌薪芯屑 锌械褉懈芯写褍.
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 褋胁芯谐邪 芯褑邪 薪械褋褍屑褮懈胁芯 胁芯谢懈, 懈 胁械褉薪芯 褬械 锌褉懈泻邪蟹邪谢邪 褉邪写薪懈褔泻懈, 屑邪谢芯谐褉邪褣邪薪褋泻懈 屑械薪褌邪谢懈褌械褌 褮械谐邪 懈 褮械薪械 屑邪褬泻械. 袨胁芯 薪械 屑懈褋谢懈屑 褍 锌械褬芯褉邪褌懈胁薪芯屑 褋屑懈褋谢褍; 薪邪锌褉芯褌懈胁, 芯薪懈 褋褍 锌芯褕褌械薪懈 褭褍写懈 泻芯褬懈屑邪 褬械 褑懈褭 写邪 锌褉械屑邪 褋胁芯褬懈屑 屑芯谐褍褯薪芯褋褌懈屑邪 芯斜械蟹斜械写械 薪邪褬斜芯褭械 褍褋谢芯胁械 蟹邪 褋胁芯褬械 写械褌械, 写邪 褬芯褬 芯斜械蟹斜械写械 褮械薪芯 屑械褋褌芯 锌芯写 褋褍薪褑械屑. 袠锌邪泻, 芯薪邪 褬械 斜芯谢薪芯 褋胁械褋薪邪 褋胁械 胁械褯械谐 泻褍谢褌褍褉芯谢芯褕泻芯谐 褬邪蟹邪 屑械褣褍 褮懈屑邪, 泻芯褬懈 褋械 锌褉芯写褍斜褭褍褬械 褮械薪懈屑 芯斜褉邪蟹芯胁邪褮械屑 懈 褋褌懈褑邪褮械屑 褋褌邪褌褍褋邪. 孝邪泻芯 褯械 褭褍斜邪胁 锌褉械屑邪 芯褑褍 芯褋褌邪褌懈 褋褍蟹写褉卸邪薪邪, 薪懈泻邪写邪 写芯胁芯褭薪芯 懈蟹褉邪卸械薪邪.
袗薪懈 袝褉薪芯 褬械 械泻芯薪芯屑懈褔薪邪, 褋褍蟹写褉卸邪薪邪 褋邪 褉械褔懈屑邪, 邪谢懈 褌邪 褕泻褉褌芯褋褌 谐芯胁芯褉懈 屑薪芯谐芯 胁懈褕械 薪械谐芯 褏懈褭邪写械 写褉褍谐懈褏 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪 懈 褍 褌芯屑械 懈 褬械褋褌械 屑邪褬褋褌芯褉褋褌胁芯.
袨胁芯 褬械 泻褮懈卸械胁薪芯褋褌 泻邪泻胁褍 胁芯谢懈屑 懈 褬械写胁邪 褔械泻邪屑 写邪 薪邪褋褌邪胁懈屑 褋邪 懈褕褔懈褌邪胁邪褮械屑 袝褉薪芯懈薪芯谐 写械谢邪.
June 25, 2024
It's been a loooong time since I read a book in French. Back in the day, when I was more disciplined and full of enthusiasm (lmao), I vowed to read at least 12 books in French a year. Last year (2023), I read two, one of which was a comic. Annie Ernaux might be single-handedly responsible that I will hit this old goal in 2024. She has reignited my passion and desire to read in French. And her work, short and to the point, is excellent for that. She writes so bluntly, so direct, it is easy to follow her and read her in the original, even when you're not a native speaker. And I usually love autobiographical vignettes, Yasmina Reza's Nulle Part is still one of my favorite books of all time.
I had read Ernaux before though. I read Une Femme, the memoir focusing on her mother, in late 2022. And so it seemed natural that I would follow it up with La Place, her memoir about her father. Ernaux often writes about her family, and I think she excels at it. It's not easy to be honest and vulnerable about such intimate measure, and Ernaux manages to walk the fine line between personal observations and giving you context and the bigger picture as well. Ernaux is a feminist writer, she's very class-conscious as well, coming from a working class family etc. It's a pleasure to read her musings.
Personally, I thought that Une Femme worked better than La Place because it gave you so many interesting insights into her mother's upbringing and her class struggles. La Place tries the same, but remains a bit more surface level.
The narrative opens with Ernaux visiting her parents in 1967, after receiving the message that her father has taken ill. He dies a few days after her arrival. Ernaux jumps back in time, to 1899, the year her father was born into a family of peasants with no land on their own in a village in the Normandie. At the age of 12, the boy is taken out of school to help his father on the farm. After the First World War, he finds work as a traditional rope worker in a factory where he meets his wife, Ernaux's mother. Later, he works as a roofer but after an accident at work, he is forced to give up this profession. Ernaux writes that he "lost his pride" then. The married couple decides to open a small general store in Lillebonne with a loan. In 1938, their first daughter dies at the age of six from diphtheria. Two years later, their second child, Annie, is born The family moves to Yvetot where they take over a farm and a general store, and manage to live quite comfortably.
Annie attends a Catholic school, and unlike both of her parents, is able to pursue higher education. This proves to be a curse and a blessing. She is able to socially advance through education, however, that precise fact also alienates her from her parents and their class. After school, Annie begins studying literature in Rouen and moves in wealthier and more educated circles. There, she enters a relationship with a student of politics, whom she later marries. Ernaux's father is happy that her daughter will have it better than him.
The most important moment in the book for me is towards the end, where Ernaux reveals that her father once told her this, after she introduced her husband to him: "Je ne t'ai jamais fait honte." (="I never shamed/embarrassed you.") It's such a simple sentence, but it is so loaded and heartbreaking. It reveals her father's biggest fear: of not being good enough for his daughter, of being a source of shame for him. It's so heartbreaking it actually makes me wanna cry. Because, of course, despite their distance, Ernaux was never ashamed of him. But for her parents, whose whole life motto, in Ernaux's eyes, seems to have been "Know your place and don't embarrass yourself", this was a big deal. Before reading this book, I wondered why it was titled this way and which "place" it was referring to. Now I know. Your place in the social hierarchy.
La Place is a short biography, fitting for an ordinary man. I often smirk when I see these big ass biographies of famous people (with 700+ pages) and think to myself that mine would barely be 100 pages long. There's just not that much of interest that happens in an ordinary life. And so I appreciate that Ernaux doesn't blow her father's life out of proportion, she doesn't make him more interesting than he was. However, I still cannot shake the feeling that she repeated herself too much. The only point she seems to have wanted to make through the narrative was the one about social advancement through education 鈥� and whilst that's an interesting and valuable point, I don't see why its case had to be made 5+ times.
Apart from that, I really enjoyed reading this short work. I'll never forget sitting on the balcony, sun-bathing with book in hand. I had just voted that morning for the European elections (...let's not talk about the results, ugh), feeling happy that the rest of my Sunday would be utterly free. Reading French is always such a pleasure and, to me, it's the most beautiful language out of the ones I am able to speak. I'm glad that Ernaux reminded me of that pleasure. I'll definitely read more of her books... and from other French writers as well!
I had read Ernaux before though. I read Une Femme, the memoir focusing on her mother, in late 2022. And so it seemed natural that I would follow it up with La Place, her memoir about her father. Ernaux often writes about her family, and I think she excels at it. It's not easy to be honest and vulnerable about such intimate measure, and Ernaux manages to walk the fine line between personal observations and giving you context and the bigger picture as well. Ernaux is a feminist writer, she's very class-conscious as well, coming from a working class family etc. It's a pleasure to read her musings.
Personally, I thought that Une Femme worked better than La Place because it gave you so many interesting insights into her mother's upbringing and her class struggles. La Place tries the same, but remains a bit more surface level.
The narrative opens with Ernaux visiting her parents in 1967, after receiving the message that her father has taken ill. He dies a few days after her arrival. Ernaux jumps back in time, to 1899, the year her father was born into a family of peasants with no land on their own in a village in the Normandie. At the age of 12, the boy is taken out of school to help his father on the farm. After the First World War, he finds work as a traditional rope worker in a factory where he meets his wife, Ernaux's mother. Later, he works as a roofer but after an accident at work, he is forced to give up this profession. Ernaux writes that he "lost his pride" then. The married couple decides to open a small general store in Lillebonne with a loan. In 1938, their first daughter dies at the age of six from diphtheria. Two years later, their second child, Annie, is born The family moves to Yvetot where they take over a farm and a general store, and manage to live quite comfortably.
Annie attends a Catholic school, and unlike both of her parents, is able to pursue higher education. This proves to be a curse and a blessing. She is able to socially advance through education, however, that precise fact also alienates her from her parents and their class. After school, Annie begins studying literature in Rouen and moves in wealthier and more educated circles. There, she enters a relationship with a student of politics, whom she later marries. Ernaux's father is happy that her daughter will have it better than him.
The most important moment in the book for me is towards the end, where Ernaux reveals that her father once told her this, after she introduced her husband to him: "Je ne t'ai jamais fait honte." (="I never shamed/embarrassed you.") It's such a simple sentence, but it is so loaded and heartbreaking. It reveals her father's biggest fear: of not being good enough for his daughter, of being a source of shame for him. It's so heartbreaking it actually makes me wanna cry. Because, of course, despite their distance, Ernaux was never ashamed of him. But for her parents, whose whole life motto, in Ernaux's eyes, seems to have been "Know your place and don't embarrass yourself", this was a big deal. Before reading this book, I wondered why it was titled this way and which "place" it was referring to. Now I know. Your place in the social hierarchy.
La Place is a short biography, fitting for an ordinary man. I often smirk when I see these big ass biographies of famous people (with 700+ pages) and think to myself that mine would barely be 100 pages long. There's just not that much of interest that happens in an ordinary life. And so I appreciate that Ernaux doesn't blow her father's life out of proportion, she doesn't make him more interesting than he was. However, I still cannot shake the feeling that she repeated herself too much. The only point she seems to have wanted to make through the narrative was the one about social advancement through education 鈥� and whilst that's an interesting and valuable point, I don't see why its case had to be made 5+ times.
Apart from that, I really enjoyed reading this short work. I'll never forget sitting on the balcony, sun-bathing with book in hand. I had just voted that morning for the European elections (...let's not talk about the results, ugh), feeling happy that the rest of my Sunday would be utterly free. Reading French is always such a pleasure and, to me, it's the most beautiful language out of the ones I am able to speak. I'm glad that Ernaux reminded me of that pleasure. I'll definitely read more of her books... and from other French writers as well!
February 6, 2023
Un relato bastante corto el cual est谩 destinado b谩sicamente a recordar al padre de la autora, Annie Ernaux (1940), mediante un texto autobiogr谩fico. Destacan algunos detalles que hablan un poco sobre la sensibilidad herida de Annie ante actos involuntarios de su padre por ser 茅l una persona r煤stica con modales poco refinados y ella a pesar de sus or铆genes pudo acceder a un mundo burgu茅s y cultivado.
鈥淨uiz谩 su mayor orgullo, o puede que hasta la justificaci贸n de su existencia es que yo pertenezca a un mundo que lo hab铆a despreciado a 茅l.鈥�
El estilo es llano, directo y se lee muy f谩cilmente. Parece sencillo escribir algo como esto, pero creo que el ser sencillo y claro en la escritura no es nada f谩cil.
鈥淨uiz谩 su mayor orgullo, o puede que hasta la justificaci贸n de su existencia es que yo pertenezca a un mundo que lo hab铆a despreciado a 茅l.鈥�
El estilo es llano, directo y se lee muy f谩cilmente. Parece sencillo escribir algo como esto, pero creo que el ser sencillo y claro en la escritura no es nada f谩cil.
July 15, 2024
Il reconnaissait les oiseaux 脿 leur chant et regardait le ciel chaque soir pour savoir le temps qu鈥檌l ferait, froid et sec s鈥檌l 茅tait rouge, pluie et vent quand la lune 茅tait dans l鈥檈au, c鈥檈st-脿-dire immerg茅e dans les nuages. Tous les apr猫s-midi il filait 脿 son jardin, toujours net. Avoir un jardin sale, aux l茅gumes mal soign茅s indiquait un laisser-aller de mauvais aloi, comme se n茅gliger sur sa personne ou trop boire. C鈥櫭﹖ait perdre la notion du temps, celui o霉 les esp猫ces doivent se mettre en terre, le souci de ce que penseraient les autres.
Camp茅 de plain-pied dans la classe ouvri猫re en pleine contr茅e normande, le p猫re d鈥橝nnie Ernaux repr茅sentait d茅j脿 lui-m锚me une 茅volution par rapport 脿 ses propres parents, qui ne s鈥檈xprimaient encore au tournant du 20e si猫cle qu鈥檈n patois. Mais c鈥檈st la distance instaur茅e entre elle et son p猫re par l鈥櫭ヾucation sup茅rieure de l鈥檃uteure, plus tard, dans une soci茅t茅 d鈥檃pr猫s-guerre, qui tisse le r茅cit de La place. Les espoirs de son p猫re, la perception de sa place dans le monde, celle qu'il esp猫re pour sa fille: tout y est. Le livre passe aussi en revue les sacrifices auxquels on consent et ceux qui attendent, tapis, sournois, dans le tournant, au fur et 脿 mesure de la scolarit茅 d鈥檜n enfant, pour les familles loin des grandes villes.
Souvent, s茅rieux, presque tragique : 芦 脡coute bien 脿 ton 茅cole! 禄 Peur que cette faveur 茅trange du destin, mes bonnes notes, ne cesse d鈥檜n seul coup. Chaque composition r茅ussie, plus tard chaque examen, autant de pris, l鈥檈sp茅rance que je serais mieux que lui.
Vague culpabilit茅 d鈥橝nnie Ernaux, disons un fatalisme m锚l茅 de regret, devant l鈥櫭ヽart intellectuel qui s鈥檌nstalle au fil du temps, en d茅pit de la fiert茅 sans 茅quivoque du p猫re 脿 l'endroit du chemin parcouru par sa fille. 脌 la fois tendresse envers le vieil homme et ses manies campagnardes et questionnement continuel envers les diff茅rences de classe qui se multiplient au fil des hautes 茅tudes. Autant de marqueurs successifs d鈥檜n embourgeoisement minant petit 脿 petit le naturel des relations familiales alors que progresse l鈥櫭ヾucation sup茅rieure.
Mon p猫re est entr茅 dans la cat茅gorie des gens simples ou braves gens. Il n鈥檕sait plus me raconter des histoires de son enfance. Je ne lui parlais plus de mes 茅tudes.
C鈥檈st assez cr猫ve-c艙ur, ce livre : 脿 une autre 茅poque et en d'autres lieux, j鈥檃i connu un peu la m锚me chose, un jour, en quittant ma r茅gion natale pour les cieux plus g茅n茅reux et l鈥檈xcitation continuelle de 芦 la grande ville 禄. En marge d鈥檜n foss茅 culturel et intellectuel qui se creuse toujours davantage, on sent aussi dans le r茅cit d鈥橝nnie Ernaux le poids que repr茅sente le souci de l鈥檕pinion des autres, dans son patelin natal. Une r茅alit茅 qui n鈥檃 rien 脿 voir avec une vie citadine assum茅e et une diff茅rence qu鈥檈ncore une fois je ne reconnais que trop bien.
Mon p猫re 茅tait heureux d鈥檃ccueillir ces jeunes filles si bien 茅lev茅es, leur parlait beaucoup, par souci de politesse 茅vitant de laisser tomber la conversation, s鈥檌nt茅ressant vivement 脿 tout ce qui concernait mes amies. La composition des repas 茅tait source d鈥檌nqui茅tude, 芦 est-ce que mademoiselle Genevi猫ve aime les tomates? 禄. Il se mettait en quatre. Quand la famille d鈥檜ne de mes amies me recevait, j鈥櫭﹖ais admise 脿 partager de fa莽on naturelle un mode de vie que ma venue ne changeait pas. [鈥 En donnant un caract猫re de f锚te 脿 ce qui, dans ces milieux, n鈥櫭﹖ait qu鈥檜ne visite banale, mon p猫re voulait honorer mes amies et passer pour quelqu鈥檜n qui a du savoir-vivre. Il r茅v茅lait surtout une inf茅riorit茅 qu鈥檈lles reconnaissaient malgr茅 elles.
Annie Ernaux ne fait pas dans les formules alambiqu茅es, ni dans les 茅crits interminables. Au contraire, dans des mots simples et en une centaine de pages 脿 peine, elle touche pourtant 脿 des v茅rit茅s essentielles et des sentiments complexes. J鈥檃vais lu il y a quelque temps d茅j脿 Les ann茅es; je reconnais aujourd鈥檋ui dans La place ce qui m鈥檃vait s茅duit 脿 l鈥櫭﹑oque.
Camp茅 de plain-pied dans la classe ouvri猫re en pleine contr茅e normande, le p猫re d鈥橝nnie Ernaux repr茅sentait d茅j脿 lui-m锚me une 茅volution par rapport 脿 ses propres parents, qui ne s鈥檈xprimaient encore au tournant du 20e si猫cle qu鈥檈n patois. Mais c鈥檈st la distance instaur茅e entre elle et son p猫re par l鈥櫭ヾucation sup茅rieure de l鈥檃uteure, plus tard, dans une soci茅t茅 d鈥檃pr猫s-guerre, qui tisse le r茅cit de La place. Les espoirs de son p猫re, la perception de sa place dans le monde, celle qu'il esp猫re pour sa fille: tout y est. Le livre passe aussi en revue les sacrifices auxquels on consent et ceux qui attendent, tapis, sournois, dans le tournant, au fur et 脿 mesure de la scolarit茅 d鈥檜n enfant, pour les familles loin des grandes villes.
Souvent, s茅rieux, presque tragique : 芦 脡coute bien 脿 ton 茅cole! 禄 Peur que cette faveur 茅trange du destin, mes bonnes notes, ne cesse d鈥檜n seul coup. Chaque composition r茅ussie, plus tard chaque examen, autant de pris, l鈥檈sp茅rance que je serais mieux que lui.
Vague culpabilit茅 d鈥橝nnie Ernaux, disons un fatalisme m锚l茅 de regret, devant l鈥櫭ヽart intellectuel qui s鈥檌nstalle au fil du temps, en d茅pit de la fiert茅 sans 茅quivoque du p猫re 脿 l'endroit du chemin parcouru par sa fille. 脌 la fois tendresse envers le vieil homme et ses manies campagnardes et questionnement continuel envers les diff茅rences de classe qui se multiplient au fil des hautes 茅tudes. Autant de marqueurs successifs d鈥檜n embourgeoisement minant petit 脿 petit le naturel des relations familiales alors que progresse l鈥櫭ヾucation sup茅rieure.
Mon p猫re est entr茅 dans la cat茅gorie des gens simples ou braves gens. Il n鈥檕sait plus me raconter des histoires de son enfance. Je ne lui parlais plus de mes 茅tudes.
C鈥檈st assez cr猫ve-c艙ur, ce livre : 脿 une autre 茅poque et en d'autres lieux, j鈥檃i connu un peu la m锚me chose, un jour, en quittant ma r茅gion natale pour les cieux plus g茅n茅reux et l鈥檈xcitation continuelle de 芦 la grande ville 禄. En marge d鈥檜n foss茅 culturel et intellectuel qui se creuse toujours davantage, on sent aussi dans le r茅cit d鈥橝nnie Ernaux le poids que repr茅sente le souci de l鈥檕pinion des autres, dans son patelin natal. Une r茅alit茅 qui n鈥檃 rien 脿 voir avec une vie citadine assum茅e et une diff茅rence qu鈥檈ncore une fois je ne reconnais que trop bien.
Mon p猫re 茅tait heureux d鈥檃ccueillir ces jeunes filles si bien 茅lev茅es, leur parlait beaucoup, par souci de politesse 茅vitant de laisser tomber la conversation, s鈥檌nt茅ressant vivement 脿 tout ce qui concernait mes amies. La composition des repas 茅tait source d鈥檌nqui茅tude, 芦 est-ce que mademoiselle Genevi猫ve aime les tomates? 禄. Il se mettait en quatre. Quand la famille d鈥檜ne de mes amies me recevait, j鈥櫭﹖ais admise 脿 partager de fa莽on naturelle un mode de vie que ma venue ne changeait pas. [鈥 En donnant un caract猫re de f锚te 脿 ce qui, dans ces milieux, n鈥櫭﹖ait qu鈥檜ne visite banale, mon p猫re voulait honorer mes amies et passer pour quelqu鈥檜n qui a du savoir-vivre. Il r茅v茅lait surtout une inf茅riorit茅 qu鈥檈lles reconnaissaient malgr茅 elles.
Annie Ernaux ne fait pas dans les formules alambiqu茅es, ni dans les 茅crits interminables. Au contraire, dans des mots simples et en une centaine de pages 脿 peine, elle touche pourtant 脿 des v茅rit茅s essentielles et des sentiments complexes. J鈥檃vais lu il y a quelque temps d茅j脿 Les ann茅es; je reconnais aujourd鈥檋ui dans La place ce qui m鈥檃vait s茅duit 脿 l鈥櫭﹑oque.
March 1, 2021
This autobiographical book looks like a very harsh reckoning of the writer with her parents, and especially her father. She grew up in rural France, in a small Norman town where there was a very strict morality and work ethic, strongly influenced by the Catholic Church. Ernaux first briefly describes the life of her grandparents, small farmers, but then mainly focuses on her surly father, a man who worked himself up from simple labourer to shop owner.
The first half of the book has a downright naturalistic slant: the hard work, the austerity of life, the impossibility to enjoy. Ernaux describes it all in a very clinically distant way, and in the second half portrays her own rebellion against the life and worldview of her parents. Between the lines you occasionally notice some self-doubt, namely whether she has not betrayed her own environment by her entry into the world of bourgeoisie; and perhaps that's the reason why she wrote this book: 鈥淛e hasarde une explication: 茅crire c'est le dernier recours quand on a trahi.鈥� In that sense, this harsh book may be a form of therapeutic writing.
Ernaux explicitly opted for what she calls neutrality, a dry enumeration of facts and events, but this booklet is just the opposite: almost every sentence reveals a conscious distancing from the world of her parents, no attempt at all to empathize with them. It鈥檚 almost as if - at the stage of writing - she had not yet transcended the phase of puberal rebellion. In that respect I think , her most famous work and also autobiographical, is a much more successful attempt!
The first half of the book has a downright naturalistic slant: the hard work, the austerity of life, the impossibility to enjoy. Ernaux describes it all in a very clinically distant way, and in the second half portrays her own rebellion against the life and worldview of her parents. Between the lines you occasionally notice some self-doubt, namely whether she has not betrayed her own environment by her entry into the world of bourgeoisie; and perhaps that's the reason why she wrote this book: 鈥淛e hasarde une explication: 茅crire c'est le dernier recours quand on a trahi.鈥� In that sense, this harsh book may be a form of therapeutic writing.
Ernaux explicitly opted for what she calls neutrality, a dry enumeration of facts and events, but this booklet is just the opposite: almost every sentence reveals a conscious distancing from the world of her parents, no attempt at all to empathize with them. It鈥檚 almost as if - at the stage of writing - she had not yet transcended the phase of puberal rebellion. In that respect I think , her most famous work and also autobiographical, is a much more successful attempt!
November 1, 2017
In nome del padre.
Rimettere ogni cosa al suo posto, scrivere per ricordare e non dimenticare, ma anche perch茅, come recita in apertura la citazione di Jean Genet, scrivere 猫 l'ultima risorsa quando abbiamo tradito.
Centoquattordici pagine lette una dietro l'altra, senza interruzione, in cui la scrittrice francese Annie Erneaux cerca di riconciliarsi con il ricordo del padre morto quindici anni prima.
I luoghi geografici sono quelli dell'Alta Normandia di Flaubert, Rouen 猫 la cittadina di riferimento, quella in cui ci si reca per andare a fare grandi acquisti o per entrare in ospedale; i luoghi dei ricordi, invece, quelli dell'anima cercata e ritrovata, sono il bar emporio dei genitori dell'autrice, la piccola cittadina di Y*, la mai citata Yvetot da cui proviene.
Sono gente semplice, gente che si 猫 fatta da s茅 lavorando senza mai una sosta, gente contadina e operaia, gente mai capace di sentirsi adeguata agli altri e al proprio posto ovunque si trovi.
Gli altri sono il piccolo mondo borghese, quelli che hanno studiato, o quello degli intellettuali, quelli di cui Ernaux, che racconta sempre in prima persona, dice sono scivolata in quella met脿 di mondo per la quale l'altra met脿 猫 soltanto un arredo. Ed 猫 questa la frattura che cerca di raccontare e raccontando di ricucire, il tradimento cui si riferisce citando Genet: lei, figlia di contadini e di operai semianalfabeti, lei che ha assistito ai sacrifici e all'abnegazione e alle rinunce dei suoi genitori, lei che studiando e allontanandosi dal paese per andare a vivere in citt脿 e sposare uno straniero, ha in qualche modo, allontanandosi, rinnegato le sue origini.
脠 del suo imbarazzo giovanile, dei suoi silenzi, dei suoi pensieri e dei suoi sguardi di disapprovazione che cerca di perdonarsi, del suo essersi vergognata delle sue radici.
Ed 猫 una scrittura terapeutica, la sua, piana, priva solo apparentemente di picchi emotivi, a met脿 strada fra la memoria e il romanzo, ma comunque intensa e di grande valore umano, capace di trasmettere al lettore il lento logorio interiore, il cammino fatto per affrancarsi dal dolore causato dai sensi di colpa.
Tutte le storie scritte dall'autrice, scopro su Wikipedia, sono a sfondo autobiografico (dalla storia dei suoi genitori a quella del suo cancro al seno, da quella del suo matrimonio all'Alzheimer della madre, dal suo aborto all'analisi del suo ambiente sociale) e io, ora che l'ho incontrata, le legger貌 una a una.
Pensavo che per me non potesse pi霉 fare nulla. Le sue parole e le sue idee non erano quelle che circolavano nelle lezioni di letteratura o di filosofia, nei soggiorni con i divani di velluto rosso dei miei compagni di classe. In estate, dalla finestra aperta di camera mia, sentivo i colpi regolari della sua vanga che appiattiva la terra dissodata.
Forse scrivo perch茅 non avevamo pi霉 niente da dirci.
Rimettere ogni cosa al suo posto, scrivere per ricordare e non dimenticare, ma anche perch茅, come recita in apertura la citazione di Jean Genet, scrivere 猫 l'ultima risorsa quando abbiamo tradito.
Centoquattordici pagine lette una dietro l'altra, senza interruzione, in cui la scrittrice francese Annie Erneaux cerca di riconciliarsi con il ricordo del padre morto quindici anni prima.
I luoghi geografici sono quelli dell'Alta Normandia di Flaubert, Rouen 猫 la cittadina di riferimento, quella in cui ci si reca per andare a fare grandi acquisti o per entrare in ospedale; i luoghi dei ricordi, invece, quelli dell'anima cercata e ritrovata, sono il bar emporio dei genitori dell'autrice, la piccola cittadina di Y*, la mai citata Yvetot da cui proviene.
Sono gente semplice, gente che si 猫 fatta da s茅 lavorando senza mai una sosta, gente contadina e operaia, gente mai capace di sentirsi adeguata agli altri e al proprio posto ovunque si trovi.
Gli altri sono il piccolo mondo borghese, quelli che hanno studiato, o quello degli intellettuali, quelli di cui Ernaux, che racconta sempre in prima persona, dice sono scivolata in quella met脿 di mondo per la quale l'altra met脿 猫 soltanto un arredo. Ed 猫 questa la frattura che cerca di raccontare e raccontando di ricucire, il tradimento cui si riferisce citando Genet: lei, figlia di contadini e di operai semianalfabeti, lei che ha assistito ai sacrifici e all'abnegazione e alle rinunce dei suoi genitori, lei che studiando e allontanandosi dal paese per andare a vivere in citt脿 e sposare uno straniero, ha in qualche modo, allontanandosi, rinnegato le sue origini.
脠 del suo imbarazzo giovanile, dei suoi silenzi, dei suoi pensieri e dei suoi sguardi di disapprovazione che cerca di perdonarsi, del suo essersi vergognata delle sue radici.
Ed 猫 una scrittura terapeutica, la sua, piana, priva solo apparentemente di picchi emotivi, a met脿 strada fra la memoria e il romanzo, ma comunque intensa e di grande valore umano, capace di trasmettere al lettore il lento logorio interiore, il cammino fatto per affrancarsi dal dolore causato dai sensi di colpa.
Tutte le storie scritte dall'autrice, scopro su Wikipedia, sono a sfondo autobiografico (dalla storia dei suoi genitori a quella del suo cancro al seno, da quella del suo matrimonio all'Alzheimer della madre, dal suo aborto all'analisi del suo ambiente sociale) e io, ora che l'ho incontrata, le legger貌 una a una.
Pensavo che per me non potesse pi霉 fare nulla. Le sue parole e le sue idee non erano quelle che circolavano nelle lezioni di letteratura o di filosofia, nei soggiorni con i divani di velluto rosso dei miei compagni di classe. In estate, dalla finestra aperta di camera mia, sentivo i colpi regolari della sua vanga che appiattiva la terra dissodata.
Forse scrivo perch茅 non avevamo pi霉 niente da dirci.
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