Dream Desk – News from France
Culture-game | Monday, June 25, 2012
Eric Naulleau. | Photo Jacques Lange
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shot of Eric Naulleau heart. The bistro at the banquet, Angelo Rinaldi crunches with relish his contemporaries. A treat!
A man lost in thought in front of a restaurant in the Palais Royal. Carousel of ghosts, of memories round, as if the unknown slowly swung a lantern before him to hold off as night fell and tore at the same time a moment in the dark a few scenes of a past that is already fading, ” If we do not stop to tell us our lives, at the risk of confusing steps in, does it not to believe has taken place? “A quarter century earlier, his friend Delozier, banker and newspaper man, gave in that establishment a great banquet to celebrate its fortieth anniversary, and especially designated to present the admiration of the beauty of her young lover.
But too
to exhibit his wealth and good fortune, there is a risk of attracting the vengeance of the gods. Later buried in the memory, a much smaller house prestige, this bistro mother who replaced him for all universities: “He was sure, favored the privilege of being somehow born old, having from childhood observed mankind behind a counter. “Going with virtuosity from one era to another, from a ferocious satire of various Parisian circles a poignant reminiscence of exercise, the novel is placed under the sign of doubling Marcel Proust as the journal writing is well worth the show Verdurins for the study of a microcosm and lesbians loves a newsagent those of Albertine.
that man is not without resemblance to his creator, evidenced by a descriptive name of the French Academy (Conti) where the author took the seat as number 20 or pawing at the location of a wicked vaudeville actress very much in the way of a critic born under the sign of the Cat: “Maybe a miracle occurred there nevertheless by the coincidence of his own emptiness with that of the character she played. “
But we admire even more the art of the fraternal group portrait that unfolds in these pages, or upper middle class flock of night owls the grand boulevards to survive forced to sell newspapers or chestnuts, sometimes their charms. And this subtle distance toward people and things from one who knows, in the depths of himself, that everything that was worth the experience was during childhood and that the sequence is only played by social comedy “puppets of a ventriloquist doubled.” It may one day no one writes like Angelo Rinaldi, the art of building phrases we become as distant as that of building cathedrals. Meanwhile, since “News of the Night” (1997), this writer gives us all three years that the French language can support the highest in literature. Strongly in 2015
“The memories are at the counter,” Angelo Rinaldi, ed. Fayard, 370 pages, 23.40 euros.
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