Éric Chevillard

I admit, the premise made me think twice. Would it be the novel I've been waiting for my whole life, or would it be kind of silly? Yes, yes it would, both. This is extremely funny, very smart, and beautifully written. Chevillard's ability to actually structure this thing around a fairly traditional plot--as our narrator tries to track down a racy-sounding story that Nisard published before he got all respectable--is astonishing. His ability to include formal variations in what is, basically, an extended sigh of "Fuck off" is breathtaking. Chevillard. How I love you.… (mais)

An excellent little book, with some real surprises, and very well translated. Chevillard gives us, to begin with, fairly standard post-Beckett stuff, as our narrator describes his uniform and his physical features and so on in a repetitive, unenlightening way. Soon enough, though, we get an actual backstory (he's an archaeologist who, thanks to an injured leg, can no longer be in the field and takes a job guarding prehistoric rock art in a cave), and then developments from there. What could have been amusing but light fare (meta-narrative stuff, what does it mean to make art and so on) ends up both much funnier than expected, and much more interesting.

Most importantly, the writing is glorious. Here are two sentences for you, about early hominids:

"Besides, these creatures did not disappear form one day to the next the minute exclusive and very selective humankind was picked out of the lot; life went on for them, too, their own evolution continued, they long remained contemporaries of Homo sapiens sapiens, and--I know this hypothesis will upset those of my fellow creatures who are my superiors--they may even have survived him; my opinion is that we ourselves are today the descendants of a species related to and rival of the human species that was annihilated and whose prestige and privileges we have usurped and whose civilized manners we ape; lice know what they're doing, so do I, everywhere I go I see only chimpanzees slogging away, and the more serious they are, the more ridiculous they are, dressed nonetheless as if they were men: religious, sentimental, domestic like men used to be, but awkwardly, brutally, unrelentingly carried away by their ape logic, exceeding all moderation, their smiles swallowed by grimaces, their gestures too brusque, and every word laboriously learned wasted in fits of rage. I am ready to defend this hypothesis as a true theory: we got rid of man, then took his place, and I can prove it: never would man, endowed with the aptitudes both to reason and to laugh, the latter to counteract the former, never would man thus enlightened have entered History."

Fabulous.… (mais)

Narration à la première personne d'un homme qui perd la vie (avant d'être appelé à redescendre sur terre à la toute fin du livre) et fait l'expérience de l'observation à 360° et de l'omniscience que lui confère son statut de pur esprit. L'occasion d'analyser des épisodes de sa vie, de connaître réellement ceux qui étaient si proches.
Sans être désagréable, le livre offre un exercice assez vain qui tourne rapidement à vide. C'est malheureusement aussi peu incarné que l'esprit censé livrer le récit.
L'auteur s'enferre dans l'obsession anecdotique de données pouvant résumer une vie terrestre. C'est assez ennuyeux et très vite oublié, une fois le livre refermé.… (mais)