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This is my second Ernaux, after The Years, and I read it in preparation for a face to face book club discussion. This book felt much more focused and personal than the vast canvas of The Years, but perhaps also less universal. It looks back from 50 years distance at a couple of formative years in her early adulthood, and although the story is a rites of passage one, Ernaux's unflinching honesty and self-criticism makes it quite a disturbing read at times.