Malicroix by Henri Bosco
Translated by Joyce Zonana
Back in April there was quite a buzz about a new release from NYRB Classics, and a number of bookish Twitter types did a bit of a readalong. Now, somehow I’d managed to miss this book coming out, which is odd because I follow NYRB releases closely and often review their titles. The book in question was “Malicroix” by Henri Bosco, and fortunately another kind fellow blogger was able to pass on a digital copy to me, so I was able to join in and read alongside others (thanks, Dorian!)
Henri Bosco (1888 – 1976) is a writer I hadn’t come across before, and it seems he might have been one of French literature’s best kept secrets. A prolific author, only a handful of his works have been translated into English in the past; and this from a writer who was nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature four times!! So kudos to NYRB and translator Joyce Zonana for bringing his work to us Anglophone readers.
“Malicroix” was first published in 1948, and it tells the story of a young man coming into his inheritance. Martial de Megremut is an orphaned young man who lives a quiet life with his extended family of uncles, aunts, cousins and the like. However, his mother was a Malicroix and so when his uncle Cornelius de Malicroix dies, he leaves an inheritance to Martial who is now the last survivor of Malicroix blood. Contacted by the Malicroix family notary, the alarming and mysterious Maitre Domiols, Martial travels to a small island in the Camargue (an area of southern France characterised by marshes, swampland and lagoons). Here he is met by the other inhabitants of the island, Cornelius’s old retainer Balandran, and his dog Brequillet. The climate is hostile; his fellow man and dog taciturn; and the isolation overwhelming. For man like Martial it’s a real shock to the system, but Cornelius’s will makes it clear that Martial must spent three months on the island to come into his inheritance – which is in fact the island and all that’s attached to it (sheep and the like…)
No two times of solitude are alike, for we are never alone in the same way
It’s quite an ask for someone like Martial, used to calm, quiet inland living with a loving family; in fact, quite a simple and bland lifestyle. However, something stirs inside him, and despite the threatening presence of Domiols and his slippery servant Uncle Rat, Martial discovers a stubbornness which makes him want to see out the three months and claim the island as his. However, it will not be as straightforward as that; for Cornelius has left a codicil, and a final test will be faced by Martial to right a wrong of the past, if he wants to truly become a Malicroix.
That’s just a brief outline of what’s going on in this marvellous and immersive novel, and to be honest the plotlines as such are not the major focus of the book. What seems to me most important is the changes which we see taking place in Martial as he wrestles with the very essence of what makes him who he is. Although outwardly Martial recognises the Megremut in himself, represented by the image of his life as a quiet botanist in a greenhouse, inwardly he can feel the wild Malicroix blood that’s in him, symbolised by the wild untamed nature on the island. Those two types of blood are raging through him leaving us to wonder which will win; and while that battle is going on we can’t help but puzzle on what the secret of the island and inheritance actually is.
The island—I wanted it; I had become its spirit; I haunted it like a ghost; my soul depended on its possession, and in the auspicious darkness through which Dromiols vainly searched for me, I moved ahead toward my destiny, tormented by a growing anxiety, but lucid, my head lowered, like a blind force.
I must mention Bosco’s writing, because the narrative is quiet beautiful and the prose lyrical, often hallucinogenic. Martial goes through many trials on his journey towards his inheritance, with a number of stumbling blocks on the way. There are others on the shore across the river: the strange ferryman, another figure initially unidentified and descendents of ancient enemies. Early on in the story, the mysterious Maitre Domiols tells Martial the family history, and it’s a dark one; though at this point neither Martial nor the reader knows how the past will affect what plays out in the present. Bosco’s narrative captures Martial’s heightened state of awareness, his digging down into himself to discover what kind of man he really is, and his final appreciation of the two strands of blood within him.
A little later, he would give me news of the flock, always the same. How could it have been otherwise? The Malicroix solitude, the island, our wild and barren lands—all kept people away, and where people do not enter, nothing moves, except imperceptibly. Yet ever since Balandran loved me a little, I hardly suffered. He loved me like a Malicroix, an enfeebled Malicroix, to be sure, but still stamped with the seal. I had had my night of madness. And he had seen in it the strong blood of that old, wild lineage. From that moment on, he was my man, for this is a blood that binds and commands, even in me, who usually would not know how to insist on anything nor how to give an order, so much am I a Mégremut. Yet, through my innate gentleness, Balandran had scented the old, wild blood.
Reading “Malicroix” was a completely immersive experience; each time I picked up the book I was transported to the island in the Camargue to experience its landscape along with Martial (and it *is* a very dramatic landscape). The lyrical prose is almost hypnotic at times, and yet much is left elusive and unsaid which adds to the mystery of Martial’s story. The location itself is a powerful force in the narrative, dominating at times and almost taking on a personality of its own.
Had I not already entered the outline of a disturbing dream? Hanging by a frail thread at the center of the ravenous river, the boat seemed an improbable memory. Yet it was more than a dream, for my eyes had truly seen it, and in my sleeplessness I was tempted to interpret it as an emblem of a lonely thought—man on the water, awaiting night and death.
There’s a small supporting cast in “Malicroix”, but they’re beautifully drawn characters. Balandran and Brequillet, both initially wary of the incomer, warm to him as he comes to love the island and are loyal friends. A mysterious woman comes to Martial’s aid at a time of great distress, and may have more to do with the story of the Malicroix family than is immediately obvious. Even the dubious Uncle Rat is not as straightforward as he seems. And Martial’s family, initially portrayed as rather soft and bland, are revealed as good people, powerful in their own way and able support their errant family member; his return visit to them before a final trial is very moving.
She had not heard me approaching. Now, for the first time in my life, I could contemplate her at leisure, seeing her with new eyes, the eyes of another. For the stranger had followed me. The stranger was here—I was the stranger. Caught between these two natures that nevertheless interpenetrated one another, body and soul, I was reluctant to trouble the peace of this charming old woman who, while she waited for me, bent over her rose point lace, carefully stitching.
Looming over the book is the monumental, larger-than-life presence of the mysterious notary Domiols; his willpower is spelled out and it often seems that he will overwhelm Martial by sheer force of personality, compelling him to leave the island. However, the latter discovers that his Megremut blood gives him hidden strength in his patience and his ability to copy with isolation. Whether it gives him enough strength to cope with facing his ultimate fear – the chaos and disorder of the river – is something you’ll have to read the book to find out.
As you might guess, I absolutely loved this book. It’s unlike anything else I’ve read, really (though the nearest comparisons I can think of are The Marble Cliffs and The Other Side, also both from Twentieth Century European authors). I grew extremely fond of Martial, Balandran and Brequillet in particular, and had some bad moments about the fate of all of them! And I can understand the fuss that’s been made about this book, because it really is something special. Beautifully written, totally absorbing, emotionally affecting and quite haunting, “Malicroix” is a book to get under your skin and into your soul.*****
I feel I should say a special word of thanks to translator Joyce Zozana for her work on bringing Malicroix to us. From what I understand, she first encountered the book back in the 1970s when it was praised in another work she was reading – Gaston Bachelard’s “The Poetics of Space”, which oddly enough has been lurking on my TBR for a few months. Now there’s synchronicity… Anyway, apparently Joyce was inspired enough to want to start translating it at the time, but then life got in the way. Fortunately for us, she was able to return to the book in the 2010s and we now have the chance to read Bosco’s electrifying work. Thank you so much Joyce!
(Many thanks to NYRB for allowing Damian Stuber to kindly pass on the e-reading copy to me – much appreciated!)
MarinaSofia
May 06, 2020 @ 08:25:59
All of you whose bligs I read and love seem so captivated by this book, I have a terrible envy. Because I want to try and find the French original now. Perhaps compare with the translation etc.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 06, 2020 @ 09:26:42
Oh, that would be interesting! I’ve no idea how readily available in French it is, but I certainly recommend it in English!
Amateur Reader (Tom)
May 06, 2020 @ 15:57:01
Yes, read it in French. The French was not that hard. Mostly. Mostly.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 06, 2020 @ 16:02:11
Ah, I wish that I could….
Caroline
May 06, 2020 @ 18:11:48
I just got the French today.
Radz Pandit
May 06, 2020 @ 10:59:09
Wonderful review Karen! I really want to read this, more so because it has been rated so highly by Book Twitter too. Your description of it particularly – immersive reading experience, hypnotic prose and a sense of atmosphere – makes it sound so compelling.
Unfortunately, the current climate has made it impossible for me to buy new books. But hopefully when things settle down, this will be among the first I plan to get.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 06, 2020 @ 13:01:38
Thank you! It really is a most unusual book and yes, completely immersive. I did feel as if I had been there with Martial at times. I hope you can get to read this at some point! 😀
Peter Brown
May 06, 2020 @ 12:09:13
I read this a couple of weeks ago (it seems longer) attracted by the setting of the Camargue – a strong childhood memory for me is from ‘Hermine et Jacqui’ a French TV import broadcast briefly on the BBC in 1961/62 telling the story via a narrated translation of a young boy & girl in the Camargue – very different children’s TV at that time.
I was initially enthralled by the mystery surrounding the family and the quest but kept checking the publication date – 1948! Both the style and the story could have come from Hugo’s pen; so a throwback to an earlier time: mystery, romance, secrets, quests – dragons? – well no, but a mythical bull, and I only continued because I wanted to know what happened.
I was surprised that NYRB didn’t include an introduction as I suspect that this immediate post-war French novel has something to do with restoring French honour – and thinking further upon the plot maybe the Camargue is a metonym for France with various ‘Vichy’ elements sullying France’s true inheritance etc etc…well one could continue extrapolating the various elements accordingly.
Glad you enjoyed it – but I found it rather old fashioned.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 06, 2020 @ 13:00:43
Oh, that’s interesting – I wouldn’t have looked at this way re the historical context. It certainly is a complex work and there’s a lot of symbolism in there of which I didn’t really scratch the surface. Old fashioned? IDK – I think I like old fashioned, and certainly the setting was quite wonderful (but then I never knew anything about the Camargue before reading this!)
Julé Cunningham
May 06, 2020 @ 17:05:28
Thank you for this lovely write-up; the book sounds thoroughly intriguing and I’m especially interested by your description of the writing style. Perhaps the publication of this book will inspire more work by Bosco to be translated into English.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:58:21
Very welcome! It is indeed an excellent read and I hope the response does lead to more Bosco in English – a fascinating author!
Caroline
May 06, 2020 @ 18:16:45
I was immediately intrigued when I first saw this discussed on Twitter but too late to Jon in also because it was a bit if a struggle to get the French. It sounds like French author Sylvie Germain was inspired by him. I have to read him first to find out if there is a resemblance but it sounds like it.
I only skimmed your review as I hope to start it soon.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:55:08
Excellent! I’m so envious of those who can read this in the original language!
heavenali
May 06, 2020 @ 19:55:53
Henri Bosco is a new name to me. I also missed the read along, this sounds like a beautifully written immersive novel. The setting especially appeals as does the mysterious aspect of the bequest.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:54:09
It’s a wonderful read, Ali, and has so many intriguing elements. I think I only really touched on some of them here, because it’s a complex and compelling book.
Liz Dexter
May 06, 2020 @ 20:41:49
This sounds amazing, and I love the Camargue.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:52:52
It’s marvellous Liz, and the Camargue sounds fascinating- the location is really an extra character in the book!
madamebibilophile
May 06, 2020 @ 21:07:54
This sounds wonderful – a book to sink into! NYRB are just brilliant, and how impressive of Joyce Zozana to remain so committed to the translation.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:52:01
It really is – such a good book, such beautiful prose and such a compelling read! Joyce Zozana is wonderful – her loyalty to the book is incredible!
WordsAndPeace
May 07, 2020 @ 02:35:53
Henri Bosco, a name from my past. We had to read him at school in France, in my younger days, not sure young French students are still required to read his books. I remember fondly another one, L’enfant et la rivière. I’m not familiar with this one, so will look into it.
Amateur Reader (Tom)
May 07, 2020 @ 03:08:13
There is still a school edition of L’enfant et la rivière in print, so some French school somewhere is teaching it.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:50:36
It’s a wonderful book, and it seems a shame that he’s not better known in the English speaking world. Thank goodness for translators!!
TravellinPenguin
May 07, 2020 @ 03:09:38
I’d not heard of him but like you I do devour the NYRB newsletters.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 05:47:56
I know – they do issue some marvellous books but somehow this one passed me by at first!
Tredynas Days
May 07, 2020 @ 12:40:13
‘the ravenous river’… This sounds strange and haunting.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 12:42:33
It really is… Actually, the river is almost a character in its own right too, and Martial really struggles in his response to it. Fascinating book!
1streading
May 07, 2020 @ 16:50:20
You’re absolutely right about being immersed in place when reading the novel, but I think your point about the supporting characters being both detailed and ambiguous is important too.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 18:54:05
They are, aren’t they? Really, you could argue that none of them are what they appear and you almost don’t really ever get to the bottom of them. Fascinating book!
BookerTalk
May 07, 2020 @ 18:45:20
Well it does sound peculiar that no-one has thought to do a translation of a writer who is clearly highly respected (otherwise he wouldnt have been nominated so many times).
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 07, 2020 @ 18:53:06
Doesn’t it? That’s what struck me when I looked him up. I guess there’s not always any rhyme or reason when it comes to what’s translated and what isn’t but I’m so glad that this one has been!
BookerTalk
May 08, 2020 @ 17:30:28
Maybe the successful reaction to this one might galvanise a publisher somewhere to do the others
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 08, 2020 @ 18:56:30
I hope so – I’d be really keen to read more of his work!
Bellezza
May 10, 2020 @ 23:57:06
What a remarkable review you have written, covering virtually every aspect without giving anything away. I found it extremely hard to write about, but I was nodding my head in agreement to each of the points you made as the post progressed.
I thought it was a marvelous read to have for the quarantine, for one thing, as we too live in isolation. But, there was a certain allure about that little hut with its whitewashed walls and fire, the iron bed with sheets smelling of soap.
So much seemed ominous to me, from the river to the solicitor, to the ram (Sacristan). I’m still a little unclear about the codicil, the final task, but ultimately it doesn’t matter so much to me. What mattered the most was as you said, seeing Martial strengthen, and also, the incredible mood portrayed by Bosco (which was so beautifully translated by Joyce).
What a powerful book! I am glad we could share in it together.
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 11, 2020 @ 08:59:07
Thank you! It *was* a hard book to write about and I did wonder at one point how I would manage. In the end, I let it sit in my head for a while before deciding what I wanted to say.
You *are* right, it was the perfect isolation read, although at times I could have done with the hut and an unspeaking Balandran beside me! I think there’s an awful lot that’s symbolic in the book that I didn’t necessarily pick up on completely – inclujding the final task which like you I’m not quite clear on. But it was such an immersive book and I loved reading it all together!
Bellezza
May 11, 2020 @ 18:09:59
It’s one of those books that I wish we could all gather around in ‘real life’ with a hot (or cold?) drink and conversation. The end baffles me, some sort of task his uncle wished him to carry out involving water, and the boat, and muscled arms, as well as the death of Le Grelu (am I remembering the name properly?). But, I enjoyed the book more for its ambiance and exquisite writing than I did the “plot”. That said, I am now completely immersed in cop/cartel novels by Don Winslow which I am unable to put down. Somehow, blogging and ‘quality literature” of the translated variety are currently overwhelming me. Still, I’m glad to visit you. Xo
kaggsysbookishramblings
May 11, 2020 @ 18:49:48
Definitely – it’s one of those books that screams out for long discussions in comfy settings. I read the task as a recreation of the past, righting a failure of Cornelius, but I think there was probably a fair amount of religious symbolism I missed. And release for Le Grelu from a burden of guilt. I think. It’s definitely a book that deserves a revisit. I have gone on to all manner of different things – I need to have variety in my reading. And please keep visiting! 😀
Bellezza
May 12, 2020 @ 13:26:27
Yes, of course I will visit you.
On My Book Table… 8 – what next? | Kaggsy's Bookish Ramblings
May 28, 2020 @ 06:35:03
banff1972
Jun 10, 2020 @ 21:23:00
Thanks, Karen, for these lovely thoughts. (BTW, my first name is misspelled–it’s Dorian.) I’m putting together a retrospective post on everyone’s thoughts–will link to yours.
kaggsysbookishramblings
Jun 10, 2020 @ 21:57:27
Yikes! 😱 So sorry, Dorian – obvs having a senior moment, your name was completely wrong! Now corrected….
banff1972
Jun 10, 2020 @ 22:06:26
No worries! Thanks, Karen!
kaggsysbookishramblings
Jun 11, 2020 @ 06:26:34
😁
“The Old, Wild Blood”: Henri Bosco’s Malicroix | Eiger, Mönch & Jungfrau
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2020 in Books – in which I once again fail to pick an outright winner…. ;D | Kaggsy's Bookish Ramblings
Dec 31, 2020 @ 07:25:33