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Gosh. Four books in a row. This was 4.5 stars for me which rounding out makes it a 5-starrer. I can’t recall having read 4 books in a row that I loved. Christmas come early! 🙂 🙃

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’s 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. 😊 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’ll just grab this book and read a few pages and that will set me straight. Yeesh! 😬

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’s normal...for the younger generation to be embarrassed at times of their parents, isn’t it?

Annie Ernaux is 81 years old.

This book goes by two names, ‘A Man’s Place (Four Walls Eight Windows. 1992 and then later editions) and “Positions�� (Quartet Books, 1991). I have no idea why. 😐

Note: In my notes at one point in the book early on I made this comment, ‘can’t believe what I’m reading...��. I was reading about the father’s childhood:
�� ��...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 ‘village fetes�� 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. ‘You clumsy oaf.��

Reviews:
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�� a fine review by a blogger...
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