Règne animal par Jean-Baptiste Del Amo

Abstract

Reviews 263 (69). Multiple attempts by the Occupiers to vilify and break up Josette’s band led to harsh realities as they matured in this ambience. Their music, which is organized in CDs under the same title and can be purchased separately from the book of de Cortanze, was played in surreptitious concerts throughout Paris and became opportunities to dance the swing or especially to be musicians (Charles Louis performed on the clarinet and saxophone in various gigs). Citations from newspapers of the moment and historical references ground this story’s affirmation of youth as a positive cultural contribution to the struggle for the survival of Paris and France from World War II. Trinity University (TX) Roland A. Champagne Del Amo, Jean-Baptiste. Règne animal. Paris: Gallimard, 2016. ISBN 978-2-07017969 -5. Pp. 419. Del Amo’s novel has an immense and weighty feel to it, not least because it spans four generations of farmers rooted all but literally in the rugged terrain of l’Occitanie. The novel’s first half (1898–1917) has distinct Zola-esque qualities, including long sentences with realist descriptions of the smell of soil, angles of light, vegetation, field fauna, farm implements, and rough and ancient farm structures that house equally rough and worn people. Like Zola, Del Amo uses his title as a framing metaphor about the overlapping domains of humans and animals, privileging, of course, our animal natures. An early event sets the stage: a cold-hearted virago known only as the génératrice miscarries in a pig-stall while watching over a sow in labor. She lets the animal dispose of the human fetus, a fatal error in swine husbandry that she only realizes later: the sow henceforth tries to eat her own farrows. This metaphor of eating one’s young will bob to the surface repeatedly. When World War I’s demands for cannon fodder extend to this rural community, the systematic depopulation is not limited to men between sixteen and forty years of age: government officials strip the farms of all viable livestock, leaving farm widows with a fistful of worthless war bonds. Instead of following the story of the farmer drafted to serve, the author follows the fates of his animals, transported and slaughtered in the most inhumane, unhygienic, and wasteful ways imaginable, a mirror image of the butchery of war. Beyond the hell wrought by the war, the génératrice’s daughter, Éléonore, holds the farm together by supporting the new patriarch, a soul-damaged veteran who labors comme une bête but is equally beastly toward his only child and heir, Henri. Fast forward to 1981, when la harde, both animal and human, has increased. This second half of the novel is stylistically more modern than the first half: descriptions are less dense; characters have more dialogue; and dialogue inevitably carries much of the drama. The increased herds serve as a superficial sign of modern prosperity. Henri has doubled his progeny: two sons, both of whom work to maintain a large pig farm. On closer inspection of this material success, however, we see that family members have been isolated on the farm, and the defects of their forbearers have reemerged. The eldest son has fallen into alcoholism; his wife succumbs to mental illness; the children of this generation are alternately rejected and sexually exploited by their peers. Jérôme, the last male of his lineage, autistic and mute, has an uncanny sensitivity toward animals but also a dangerous lack of boundaries, both between humans and animals and between his own body and the bodies of other people. To say more would be to divulge a plot that is gripping and beautifully crafted. In brief, this is a breathtakingly powerful read. Lawrence University (WI) Eilene Hoft-March Des Accords, Laure. Grichka. Lagrace: Verdier, 2016. ISBN 978-2-86432-881-0. Pp. 128. Ce petit roman ne se donne pas de prime abord. Pour en apprécier la facture, il faut le relire comme une pièce de théâtre aux décors sobres, aux personnages en demiteinte appuyés par des monologues, des choeurs et des apartés. Comme dans son premier...