avec son père, tous les destins s’y dessinent, chaque spectateur peut s’y inscrire et y découvrir des lignes d’avenir, des potentialités, un idéal. Seront exclus de l’image ceux qui en détournent le sens en s’accaparant à leur profit les forces de la représentation pour imposer leurs règles et leur pouvoir. Elle ne fera pas de place, ne laissera pas de voix aux deux méchants. On comprend aussi que Thomas, guide du regard, peintre de la toile imaginaire, narrateur du récit, garant des lois de la représentation, est aussi celui qui a brûlé les deux villas, et que ce livre sur la part du feu n’est pas un livre sur le passé pour redonner voix aux anciens chefs, aux identités figées, mais un livre sur l’éthique de l’effacement pour construire un lendemain meilleur qui n’entend pas retourner aux origines. Ainsi parle Thomas s’adressant à Anaïs: “Mais mon oncle pense que tu es spéciale, que ce que tu cherches au fond, plus qu’une origine, ce pourrait être un idéal. Que la vraie question que tu te poses, en passant par de longs chemins, c’est [...]: quel usage faut-il faire de sa présence au monde?” (39). La fin du roman est narrée par la jeune femme qui fait le bilan de sa visite et prend le relais de Thomas lui-même emporté dans l’effacement. California State University, San Marcos Marion Geiger VAN, MARINA DE. Passer la nuit. Paris: Allia, 2011. ISBN 978-2-84485-400-1. Pp. 142. 9 a. After graduating in 1996 from FEMIS, the French school for cinematic studies , Marina de Van began her career as an actress in, and scriptwriter for, films by François Ozon. She wrote and directed Dans ma peau (2002), in which she also starred, and Ne te retourne pas (2009), starring Monica Bellucci and Sophie Marceau. Passer la nuit, Van’s first novel, continues to investigate the difficult themes she so ingeniously explored in her films, such as the location of identity, the experiences of depression, mourning, and loss of memory, and in general, women’s place in the world. Van decidedly eschews the psychoanalytical approach in her films and continues to do so in her novel. Rather, she concentrates on what it actually means, feels, and looks like to experience an identity lost, or perhaps more likely, never achieved. One has the sense of following a person who is suffering from acute amnesia (or worse, the inability to formulate memories at all), but who nonetheless manages to function in a way that suggests she has no problem with recalling and performing the mechanics of her daily routine. She even establishes relationships and careers, but what she cannot do is ascribe meaning to them or, in fact, to any aspect of her life. Still she is not sociopathic— she is poignantly aware of her condition and knows there is something wrong with her. What Van’s films and now her novel explore is this condition of being outof -sync with one’s body and the world; not its potential causes or treatment, just what it means to live the condition, which has apparently always been with her. Passer la nuit is written almost as a journal recounting the life of the narrator over the course of a few days, which, we learn, could well describe her entire life: “La seule chose passée que je ressente avec certitude est celle que j’expérimente aujourd’hui, des années plus tard, à travers l’enfermement solitaire et la paralysie” (141). When she awakens in the morning, she immediately starts to wonder how she will pass the time of her day until it is time to go to bed again. Even a steady regimen of coffee, alcohol, cigarettes, anxiety medication, and sleeping pills does not alter her mechanical functioning: she wakes up in the morning, time passes, Reviews 431 she goes to sleep at night. During her waking moments, she keeps appointments, she imagines beautiful yet haunting fictions, but unopened mail overwhelms her to the point...