Reviews 213 one ever really gets together. Neither do the stories. With a few exceptions, each one is as isolated as the individuals they depict. The tales span every social class and age group. Rich and poor, adults, children, and adolescents—all are miserable. Although some tales end violently, one with a murder/suicide, another with a suicide, it is the little, trivial frustrations and disappointments of everyday life that make most people unhappy. There emerges from Lefort’s book a philosophy of life that borders on the nihilistic. Olivier, the protagonist of the first story, doubts everything, especially his own existence. Unlike Descartes, this universal doubt leads to no certainties. He remains undecided between yes and no, the pro and the con. Like Madame Bovary, he forever desires the unattainable; he wants to be there when he is here and vice versa (9). Sophie, the heroine of another tale, feels she has an evil and antagonistic other self that torments her from within (21). Nicolas is embarrassed by his attacks of sadness and wishes people could live differently (37, 43). Benoît, disconsolate at being jilted by his girlfriend, refuses the consolations nature invites him to accept in order to give himself totally to his unhappiness and negative self-image (62–63). Ali, who calls himself Christophe to sound less Muslim, protests against the rejection he suffers in his own native country of France because of racial prejudice (102). Mathilde, in the longest story, is a young schoolteacher. She sacrifices her career and reputation for the love of the father of one of her students, only to be callously rebuffed by him in the end (122–23).Antoine only dreams of killing his wife (24), but Victor, a betrayed lover, actually murders his unfaithful lady love before killing himself (140). Hélène, in the only first-person narrative, is a rare survivor, despite the solitude she endures after her husband’s suicide. She says there is no hope but continues to hope anyway: “Il faut garder la positivité”(128). The final story, about Anne, provides a fitting denouement to the whole collection.After suffering in the hospital bed on which she lies“crucifiée” (171), she gradually and silently dies. Lefort’s book is hardly a utopian formula for happiness. University of Denver James P. Gilroy Lucas-Gary, Amélie. Vierge. Paris: Seuil, 2017. ISBN 978-2-0213-5909-1. Pp. 179. The narrator of this novel, who is nameless until the final page, wastes little time before mentioning that she was born of a virgin, thus putting us on notice that the tale she is about to tell is a bit out of the ordinary. That tale follows her mother, Emmanuelle, who finds herself pregnant for no apparent reason at age sixteen and leaves her native Saint-Denis, making her way by a circuitous route to Aigues-Mortes, where she finally gives birth. During her travels, she meets many different people, from farmers and hunters to journalists and photographers. She spends a few days with Canadian twins named Stéphane and Ariel; she visits long-extinct volcanoes in the company of a guide; she makes love with a Swiss, while nonetheless preserving her virginity. Curious events occur wherever she goes: a crowd falls into a deep sleep; the townsfolk of Engean engage in a bizarre ritual of purgation; mayors of municipalities large and small drop like ninepins, one after the other.“Rien ne se passe comme j’aurais pu l’imaginer,”remarks Emmanuelle at one point (61), a feeling with which we readers will surely sympathize. Things are very equivocal indeed in this world: ambiguity reigns, as does the principle of uncertainty, which is fueled by a narratorial refusal to explain. That refusal is doubtless occasioned on the narrator’s part by a lack of information ; on the author’s part, it is clearly a matter of strategy. The picaresque form of this novel and the curious mixture of prodigious event and laconic narration will put some readers in mind of recent experiments by Marie Redonnet or Alina Reyes; other readers will see in Emmanuelle a benighted figure squarely in the lineage of Josef K. or Molloy...
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