be a long time in coming. In the long soliloquy that constitutes this novel, the narrator alternates between speaking to “tu” directly about their present situation and telling her personal story. We do not know if he is listening to her, but we certainly are, and with growing curiosity. While the device feels somewhat forced, the flow of information is not devoid of verisimilitude. We learn that our narrator is a wife, a mother, and a film journalist with a long series of movie star interviews to her credit. The offhand manner in which she talks of her family and her job makes it clear that, in fact, her life is of absolutely no interest to her (which, ironically, makes it more interesting to us). And then a certain someone spills a Diet Coke on her sweater, apologizes and the die is cast:“Le mal n’avait plus qu’à incuber”(60). Her obsession begins like a bolt of lightning. It develops over time, and she recounts its evolution within her, again interspersed with flashes of the present situation.And it is thus that we come to understand ; the“tu”is a not-so-handsome movie actor being held captive by our outwardly rational journalist.A few innocuous encounters between the two of them have sufficed to break the pattern of her universe where, as she puts it: “J’ai commencé à vivre à l’infinitif, un temps mort vivant. Vider la poubelle. Étendre le linge. Trouver le livre. Voir le film. Faire l’interview. Sourire. Parler. Faire rire” (75). One day, after an interview , he hugs her, innocently enough, but it pushes the obsession along.After another encounter, again professional, he suggests that she call him to go out for coffee and gives her his number. She calls; he does not call back:“En ne partageant pas ce café avec moi, tu ne m’as pas déçue. Tu m’as trahie. Et c’est pour cela que tu es ici” (146). The rest of the novel is made up of the kidnapping, the captivity, and eventual release of the poor unsuspecting actor, all of which underline the narrator’s insanity. Madness is difficult to portray but the obsessed woman in Brioche makes perfect sense. How could she be anything but what she is? This is the mark of successful character development , if not necessarily the guarantee of an excellent novel. Metropolitan State University of Denver (CO) Ann Williams Werber, Bernard. Troisième humanité. Paris: Albin Michel, 2012. ISBN 978-222624422 -2. Pp. 587. 22,90 a. Werber’s first trilogy, Les fourmis, put him on the literary map twenty years ago. In Troisième humanité, he reconnects with the Wells family, in this first part of an equally ambitious multi-part saga,taking place in relative time: ”Elle se passe précisément dix ans, jour pour jour, après l’instant où vous (le lecteur) ouvrirez ce roman et commencerez à le lire” (avertissement). This time, however, he blends the past, present, and potential future in a roller coaster ride of urgency.Gone“homo gigantis”discovered in the opening by Charles Wells, Edmond’s descendant, “homo sapiens” is about to follow suit as David Wells, his colleague Aurore and his scientific team race against time to create“homo metamorphosis,”a mini-human population, the third humanity, 286 FRENCH REVIEW 87.1 Reviews 287 more feminized, resistant, and unified, to combat extremism, and to stop harm to the earth. Each time the earth feels threatened—it is a living, breathing, verbal entity in this novel—whether being “drained” of its oil or incessantly overpopulated—the earth in turn strikes back with plague, tornadoes, or nuclear reactor meltdowns, just to name a few. Werber tries to create a delicate balance between the earth and its inhabitants, making use of “L’Encyclopédie du Savoir Relatif et Absolu”that he so successfully used in Les fourmis, and giving voice to a planet exhausted by man’s tendency towards violence, waste, and ruin. How original to“hear”the earth complain about drilling its surface, to wonder how it will combat the meteor bits hurling at it, to sense its loneliness vis-à-vis the lack of...
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