“… a pure translucency, a purely passive thing…” #FrenchFebruary #ReadIndies @seagullbooks

We’re getting perilously close to the end of #ReadIndies month, and it’s become clear to me that I’m not going to fit in all the books I wanted to read and cover. However, I was really keen to include something which as well as being indie also qualified for MarinaSofia’s #FrenchFebruary challenge; hence this extra weekend post!

Finding a French indie looked like it might be problematic when I first rummaged through Mount TBR, but then I thought of Seagull Books; they’re an indie with a BIG French List, and I have several lurking. Many of these are lovely collections of Barthes’ works and though they’re most appealing, the manic quality of real life and work at the moment meant I doubted my ability to concentrate enough! Fortunately, though, I have a couple of slim volumes of Jean-Paul Sartre‘s writings, and although he’s no light read, I thought I’d have more chance of reading those at the moment – and I was right!

Sartre is an author I read mostly in my twenties, and then it was mainly his fiction; I’ve not revisited him much in recent years but have wanted to explore his non-fiction, and so this was the perfect introduction. His writing *can* be a bit intimidating, but on the whole I found these short pieces bracing and fascinating; so here are my thoughts on the individual volumes.

On Novels and Novelists

This is Volume 11 of the Seagull Sartre Library, and it collects together five pieces by the author of various lengths and on a variety of writers or works. Covered are Francois Mauriac, Andre Gide, Nathalie Sarraute, Jean Giraudoux and Jules Renard. Of the five, I’ve read Mauriac and Gide, and have a couple of Sarraute’s books on the TBR, so this made interesting reading. Sarte does not mince his words, and his critiques are pithy and entertaining; he’s not a fan of all of the authors or books covered, but when he wants to criticise he does it in a detailed and erudite way. He’s positive about Sarraute (and I think I was aware of this before), as well as Gide; however, I found myself very much in tune with his criticisms of Mauriac and his ‘Therese’ books. I read those quite a while ago and found them somewhat problematic, so it was frankly quite enjoyable seeing Sartre pulling them to pieces in such a clever way – the devastating last line of the piece made me laugh out loud.

For a book is either merely a little pile of dry leaves or, alternatively, a great form in movement: the act of reading. The novelist seizes upon this movement, guides and inflects it, he makes it the substance of his characters.

There was much in these pieces to set the brain whizzing and once I got my thoughts aligned with Sartre’s way of writing and expressing things, I had a whale of a time reading this collection. A real treat, and I shall definitely have to seek out more of his literary criticism!

On Camus

Camus and Sartre had a notoriously rocky friendship – close buddies and allies to start with, they famously fell out over a review of one of Camus’s books by a writer on Les Temps Modernes, of which Sartre was the editor. This collection (volume 8 of the Seagull Sartre Library) contains three pieces – a reply by Sartre to Camus’s response to the bad review, after the falling out had happened; a memoir of Camus after his untimely death; and a review of his most famous work, here titled “The Outsider”.

Our freedom today is merely the free choice to struggle to become free.

Both Camus and Sartre were powerful authors in their own right, and obviously powerful personalities as well. I haven’t read the actual review, nor Camus’s piece in response, but Sartre goes into great detail as to why Camus was misguided. The 1950s were, of course, a time of considerable conflict on the left, particularly in a country like France where artists were so politically engaged, and the issues were obvously very complex. The breach was enough to last until Camus’s untimely death in 1960; and the second piece in the book is Sartre’s moving homage to his erstwhile friend at that point. Despite their quarrel, he states he always regarded Camus as a friend, if an absent one, and you feel the real sadness at the loss of such a great intellect.

The final piece, a review of “The Outsider”, is excellent reading, exploring the meanings behind the book, Camus’s philosophy of the absurd, and expressing the importance of the novel to modern literature. There are many insights here, and I think that when I return to “The Outsider” Sartre’s thoughts will definitely inform my reading! As I said above, Sartre’s lit crit is definitely something to look out for!!

So both of these books were wonderful reads, full of food for thought as well as reminding me that I have some very interesting books from and about that period of French literature hanging about unread. Thanks to MarinaSofia for the nudge to search out something French and Indie – I have enjoyed my reunion with JPS very much!

*****

As an aside, it seems that these volumes have been pulled from larger collections from Seagull and themed, which is a good idea to introduce Sartre’s non-fiction in bite sized collections. I do have other collections of his non-fiction, and in fact was prompted to dig out a number of books including these by my recent read of “Traces” by Mairead Small Staid (review to follow). Her book has mention of all manner of journals, diaries, notebooks etc from authors as diverse as Pavese, Gide and Camus. I have a lot of those books on the TBR and as you can see from this image I went down a bit of a rabbit hole – these are the tree books I own that kind of tie in with this angle and some of the insights in her book:

As well as the physical books, I also have a number of digital, so the choices are really endless, and I am sorely tempted by all of the non-fiction and diaries and journal collections I have. What to read next – so many books, so little time is always the issue!!

“Civilization has just reached the ultimate stage of savagery…” #LeftBank #Paris

“Left Bank” by Agnes Poirier has been sitting on Mount TBR for a couple of years now; if I recall correctly, I picked it up in my local Waterstones when I had a book token, liking the sound of it. The subtitle is “Art, Passion and the Rebirth of Paris 1940–1950”, and of course with a cover featuring Sartre, Beauvoir and Camus it was always going to appeal… However, although this book is a fascinating and engrossing read, I actually feel that the cover undersells it! 😀

Poirier is a French-born journalist and author, and has written in both English and French; here, the book is presumably written originally in the former. “Left…” is a book which explores life in France’s capital city during a decade of great change and disruption, with the focus mainly on Paris’s intelligentsia. It was a period which saw Nazi occupation, collaboration, liberation and reconstruction, and at the heart of all this were artists, poets, writers and philosophers – the people who seemed to shape French life in a way that the intelligentsia don’t in other countries.

As the book opens, Paris is a city full of intellectual life. Sartre’s first novel, “Nausea”, has been published in 1938, existentialism as a philosophy is gaining popularity, and he and Beauvoir set the tone for what the rest of Paris thinks. However, WW2 breaks out, and what follows will tear the city (and indeed the country) asunder. Poirer goes on to lead the reader through the War and occupation years, which were dark ones for Parisians, exploring the complex range of characters who lived in the city during that period, and how they negotiated the difficulties of occupation. Once Paris was liberated, the end of the war brought change to the whole of France; and the political and intellectual conflicts between left and right were intense and often violent. Poirier’s narrative runs until 1950, when the divide between East and West in the world was becoming hardened, and the decade which followed would see much of the world slipping into conservatism.

Poirier casts her net wide and the list of those involved in her story is huge; in fact, although she does provide a ‘Cast of Characters’ at the beginning, this is a smallish selection of those who feature, and it was occasionally hard to keep track of who was who. Obviously, the dominant characters are Sartre, Beauvoir and Camus, although interestingly Arthur Koestler is a key player. He’s also, unfortunately, not a pleasant man…. Boris Vian, a perhaps lesser known figure nowadays, plays a prominent part in the narrative, as does Beckett, and of course the many artists of Paris (notably Picasso) are a regular presence.

Paris during the Occupation (Bundesarchiv, N 1576 Bild-007 / Herrmann, Ernst / CC-BY-SA, CC BY-SA 3.0 DE <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons)

“Left…” delves deeply into life during occupation and reveals how complicated it was to cope with being under Nazi control. There were, of course, resistance movements; and yet some Parisians chose to accomodate or work with the German occupiers to either ensure the survival of Paris’s massive collections of art treasures, or to help other vulnerable Parisians survive, or just to make things easier for themselves. There is no doubt the privations were great, and Poirier is not judgemental re collaboration; in particular, the art of Paris would never have survived had it not been for the combined efforts of Louvre director Jaujard and German Count Metternich, sent to Paris by the Nazis to safeguard the art. Sometimes matters higher than loyalty to country came into play.

The Occupation had been a laboratory of moral ambiguity as in no other period in France’s contemporary history. The coexistence, for four long years, of heroism, passivity, cowardice and duplicity is, three-quarters of a century later, something France is still trying to come to terms with.

Once the war was over, the politics of France became particularly complex, with conflict between the communists, who had played such a major part in the resistance, and the forces of the Gaullists, both vying for power. In a way unlike any other country I can think of, Paris’s intellectuals were deeply involved in politics, trying to find a middle ground between the polar opposities of left and right wing. Their ‘Third Way’ was, alas, doomed to failure, but it would have been wonderful if they had managed to find some political balance. In fact, the book ranges outside Paris and explores the connections with the US, and the attraction Paris had for people from the other side of the pond. In particular, authors of colour such as Richard Wright and James Baldwin found that attitudes in Paris were completely different and that they didn’t encounter in Paris the racial harrassment they did in the states. Conversely, Sartre, Beauvoir and Camus all visited America and found it very different from Europe and so there was a kind of culture shock both ways. Poirer discusses the role of public intellectuals in France as something unique, and certainly I can think of no equivalent in Britain or the US, where intellectual discussion is rather frowned upon…

If most of the hopes laid at the feet of Paris intellectuals, writers and artists just after the Second World War were partly dashed by the force of bloc politics, and their own ideological and moral ambivalence, it remains that seldom before had a generation tried so hard to reinvent themselves and re-enchant the world.

Towards the end of the narrative, a younger generation start to appear, often young women unhappy to play second fiddle to the men. Francoise Sagan, Juliette Greco and Brigitte Bardot take their inspiration from Beauvoir’s lifestyle and work, taking life on their own terms – which is refreshing, because amongst the earlier generation, as usual, the women often play second fiddle to the men; putting up with their awful behaviour, working and supporting them without thanks or acknowledgement, and often being abandoned on a whim. As I mentioned above, Koestler comes out of the book as really unpleasant; his behaviour towards the women in his life seems to have been quite reprehensible.

As I said at the start of my review, I do feel that the cover undersells the book considerably, focusing as it does on the post-War period. As well as exploring the personal lives of its protagonists, “Left Bank” is a wide-ranging and long form work which takes a deep look at the effects of WW2 on France, the issue of collaboration, the politics, the post-war political conflicts all over Europe and even the development of the Cold War. Poirier brings a unique perspective to the history of the time, portraying a Europe stuck in the middle of the two great opposing forces which would everntually come together in a Common Market to secure their own political identity. “Left Bank” is an exhaustive, if occasionally exhausting, account of politics, love and sex, and how they all came together in Paris during a pivotal decade. A wonderful and engrossing read!

*****

Just managing to squeeze this review in before the end of the month and so I shall definitely count it for Non Fiction November! 😀

On My Book Table…5 – too many books!!

Oh dear. If you follow me at all on social media, you might well have gained the impression that there have been a  *lot* of books coming into the Ramblings lately from a variety of sources. There have been review books, lovely finds in charity shops and kind fellow bloggers contributing to Mount TBR. When you add in the fact that I have had a book token plus money off on my Waterstones loyalty card, it’s clear things have got a little out of control… The book table was looking *very* crowded, so much so that Mr. Kaggsy was starting to get a wee bit concerned that it might collapse under the weight of all the volumes on it. And I have to admit that seeing a huge great mound of books lurking there glaring at me and demanding to be read was making me feel very pressured. So I took drastic action at the weekend and took them all off the table, had a shuffle and an organise and – well, you’ll see at the end of this post how I left the table…

But I thought I would share some of the books which are currently vying for attention, posing nicely on the table before being moved – there really are some tantalising titles waiting in the wings!

First up is the three volumes of Robert Musil’s “The Man Without Qualities”. There is a readalong going on on Twitter, and this is a book I’ve wanted to read for ages. Have I picked it up and started it? No… I do want to, and it’s a year long challenge. So let’s hope I can at least *start* reading them this year.

Ah Proust… Reading “A La Recherce…” is also trending all over Twitter. I’ve read the first two novels in the sequence, and invested in some reasonably priced hardback copies in the hope this would have the effect of getting me reading Proust again. Plus I have some beautiful shorter works and peripheral works lurking. Again, hopefully I will get going with this soon.

To complicate things further, I have some *very* large Oulipo related books just screaming for attention. There’s Calvino. There’s Perec. I adore them both… And some incredible anthologies. Looking at them I just want to shut myself away and do nothing but read for weeks.

This not-so-little pile contains various heavier works. “Ulysses” of course – I’ve read the first chapter and again long to sink into the book. There is Montaigne and French Existentialists and all manner of dippable philosophical work. *Sigh*. All so tempting…

Speaking of French existentialists and like… I’ve always loved French authors of the 19th and 20th century and their books were some of the favourites of my twenties. This rather wobbly and imposing pile is full of things like Sartre and Gide and Barthes and Camus and Huysman and Radiguet and books about French authors. Although the first translated books I read were by Russians (in my early teens), France has a special place in my heart too…

I have been blessed with some beautiful review books by lovely publishers and just look at the variety: Virago, Russians, Bulgakov!, golden age crime, Frankenstein, Capek… Well, what choices.

There there are random recent arrivals from various sources, many of which might be familiar from my Instagram feed. “Party Fun with Kant” came from Lizzy (thank you Lizzy!) and looks fab! “Left Bank” should perhaps have been in the French pile above, and was an impulse buy with my book token from Waterstones at the weekend (well, not quite impulse – I’d looked at it the previous weekend, walked away and of course went back for it a week later!)

Of course, Lizzy and I will be hosting the Fitzcarraldo Editions Fortnight starting on Sunday, and this pile of their lovely books contains some titles I haven’t read yet. I love Fitzcarraldos – always so interesting and off-centre!

So as you can see, I’m suffering from too many choices at the moment. A good number of these were on the book table, and moving *everything* off it has helped to clarify my mind a little bit, as well as stopping me feeling quite so overwhelmed. I think things are not being helped by my current speed of reading. I did really well in January, getting through some marvellous works quite quickly. However, work is fairly horrendous right now, meaning I’m fairly exhausted when I get home and don’t always have the mental energy to engage with reading for any length of time. To take the pressure off, I’ve reduced the book table to hosting one single book, the one I’m currently reading:

“This Little Art” is one of the Fitzcarraldos I hadn’t read yet, but it’s quite perfect for me at the moment. It’s about translation, lots of Barthes! and is absolutely fab so far. I’ll hope to get it finished in time to review during our #fitzcarraldofortnight, but it’s not a book to rush, rather one to savour.

Am I the only one who struggles with too many choices? Which would you choose from the above piles to tackle next?? ;D