"Georges Perec" by David Bellos
(Harvill, 130F) This long overdue paperback edition of Bellos' biography won the 1994 Goncourt prize, a rare compliment for an Englishman writing about a French master. It is a mighty tome, more than 800 pages long, and opens with a quote from Perec himself: "All I know is that the puzzle is called 'The Life and Works of Georges Perec.' But I don't know what the solution is!" It is almost impossible to imagine anyone getting closer, ever. Bellos has translated most of Perec's work, and his knowledge of this innovative and enigmatic writer is phenomenal. You may wonder, for instance, if a description of an uncle's pearl diving business in the Persian Gulf in the 1930s is worth eight pages, given that Georges had only just been born at the time, but Bellos quotes back all the pearls in Perec and ends up convincing you and it's a good story anyway. The book's subtitle, "A Life in Words," is important; Perec was truly obsessed with language and its corollary, meaning, and spent a lot of time writing crosswords, palindromes and flow charts (Belloc translated a hilarious one on how to get a raise at work for the back cover of the hardback). Even his masterpiece, "Life, A User's Manual," is an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, as well as being a rumination on futility. To be read alongside Perec's own "W or A Memory of Childhood," an original and moving reflection on the unreliabity of childhood memories, in his case of unbearably traumatic events (his father died in battle, his mother in Auschwitz, and he spent the war in hiding, pretending to be a happy Catholic). Briefly noted "The Many Lives & Secret Sorrows of Josephine B." by Sandra Gulland (Headline, 120F). The French revolution is the backdrop to this fictionalized account of the rise of Josephine, from poor Martinique plantation girl to the future Mrs. Bonaparte. And to think she laughed when the gypsy told her she would grow up to be queen. It's a cracking story, told with a light touch and a good feel for a woman's lot: corsets, social calls and the perils of childbirth, not to mention dashing young hussars. The Canadian author is planning two further volumes. "Camille Saint-Saëns: A Life" by Brian Rees (Chatto, 250F) The first major biography of the composer known as the patriarch of French music, whose career began in the salons of King Louis Philippe and ended in the dissonance of the modern age. "The Paris Café Cookbook" by Daniel Young (Morrow, 200F) This sleek volume combines witty and often philosophical rundowns of 50 of the city's best cafés with detailed recipes of their finest dishes. Crisp black-and-white photos and charming color illustrations round out the package. It makes you just want to hang out and eat. Researching this kind of book must be fun; it sure beats reading. "Project Girl" by Janet McDonald (Farrar, 200F) McDonald grew up in the projects in Brooklyn, a bright black girl in a ghetto dominated by drugs and crime. She was "college material," but getting out proved hard; she felt even more of an outsider at Ivy-League colleges and law schools. This is the story of her struggles and comebacks, including a period shooting smack and a brutal rape that nearly sent her off the rails. She wrote it in Paris, where she now lives and works as a lawyer. Much of the writing is oddly passionless; the best part is an extended diary excerpt, where she really takes the lid off. Book chat Tintin Gets Snowy Forget Astérix. Barely two months into the year and we already know the bestselling French book of 1999: " Tintin au Pays des Soviets" (Casterman, 56F). Since its release on January 6, more than half a million copies of this new edition of the boy reporter's first adventure have been sold, an incredible feat considering that the bestselling French book of 1998, Philippe Delerm's whimsical "La Première Gorgée de Bière et Autre Plaisirs Miniscules, "barely topped the 400,000 mark. The story first appeared in daily installments in a Belgian newspaper in 1929. It is a crude work, both as art and as anti-Soviet propaganda, though it's interesting to see the drawing evolve over the 138 pages. Tintin's creator, Hergé (real name Georges Remi), was not proud of it, and did not redraw it and color it up like other early adventures. Jane Taylor of the Sundancer company, who controls Tintin merchandising worldwide, explains that Hergé never wanted it republished, "but he was bullied or pressured you choose the word" into putting out a fascimile version just before his death in 1981. Sundancer published the English version, "Tintin in the Land of the Soviets," and followed up with "Tintin in the Congo," the first color album, which the normal publisher Methuen had always avoided because of its clumsy racism. So why are the punters going wild over a half-baked book which has been out for 18 years? It seems the answer lies in the new album format, slightly smaller than the fascimile with a red spine. Fans who have all the other 22 titles are completing their collection. Hergé's politics have been the subject of intense debate, including a recent heated session in the Assemblée nationale. But it seems clear that though he worked for collaborationist papers and was buddies with Belgian fascist leaders, Hergé only really cared for one thing: Tintin. Half a million Frenchmen feel the same way. "And God Created the French" by Louis-Bernard Robitaille (Robert Davies, 110F) Louis-Bernard Robitaille is a journalist and novelist, but he is not French, though he has lived here for 27 years and sounds like he should be. He comes from Quebec, and has written about France for two Montréal papers since the early '70s. He has spent long enough in Paris literary circles to lose his accent and learn their little snobberies inside out. He took these apart in a witty and biting book, "And God Created the French" that was a hit in French with people like Bernard Pivot before it came out in English last year. He has clearly thought long and hard about subjects such as handshaking, the tuand the vousand trips to the town hall. Unlike most anglo commentators, Robitaille really knows what he's talking about, and unlike most French ones, he is funny and succinct. His motto is simple: " Les français sont comme ça. Ce n'est pas grave." Louis-Bernard Robitaille will be reading from "And God Created the French" on Mar 25; see Writer's Notebook for details. His new novel, "Le Zoo de Berlin," will be published by Seuil this spring. |
