Reviewed by: Un début dans la vie par Mathieu Bermann Ann Williams Bermann, Mathieu. Un début dans la vie. P.O.L, 2022. ISBN 978-2-8180-5521-2. Pp. 176. Questioning one's own perspectives is never easy but is necessary, as human interactions show time and time again. Un début dans la vie reminds readers of this from the outset and quickly pulls us out of complacency and into self-reflection. Readers soon discover that the narrator is a writer himself and quite introspective, and they realize that this novel will not simply guide them through a Balzacian plot or character development (despite the hommage in the title). There will be much more. The intertwined stories of all the characters focus on a provincial French family drama, with at its heart, Malo, a horrid child. At four and a half years old he already has a vile reputation that has reached even the narrator, a close friend of Valentin, the creature's uncle. In the hands of a less-gifted writer the rather banal plot twists would not excite. The real richness of the book, however, resides in the questioning of perspectives that Bermann proposes throughout. At first glance, it seems he is giving us permission to judge his characters quite harshly. In the first chapter, "La barbarie," he sets up Valentin as the gossiping and somewhat unkind uncle responsible for the narrator's negative preconceptions of the little boy (whose actions, nonetheless, deserve the criticism they receive). He gives little quarter to Marie, Malo's mother, narcissistic and inattentive to her two children, and in the second chapter, aptly entitled "Disparaître," she does just that; she runs away, leaving her parents to watch over her children. But here's the rub: the author-Bermann does not let the narrator-author-maybe-Bermann get off scot-free. Malo, Marie, and all the characters have redeeming qualities, reasons for being who they are. And the narrator sees that he can't just go with what he's been told. And so, neither can we. By the time we get to chapter four, "Le roman de Malo," we know that there is a self-reflexive writer in charge of this book, and we see that he's taken over the literary encounter we're having. The somewhat disconcerting switch from the first-person narrator to an omniscient one was heralded by the chapter title, but we do have to pause to adjust as we read Malo's story and follow him through episodes in his life unknown to our initial narrator. In chapter five (and at this point, readers are sincerely grateful for the chapter divisions), our first narrator returns, and we relive moments, even with similar wording, from the beginning of the novel. But, and here's where Bermann excels, we cannot help but have a different perspective. In a sense, we know too much. The narrator-author takes responsibility for writing this life and even proposes a series of ninety-nine numbered optional events that Malo might live. The novel's last chapter explores the question "Pourquoi écrit-on?" (167) and the effect that writing has on reader and writer alike. One certainty? In writing this book a very real author takes us on a literary adventure that we will not soon forget. [End Page 220] Ann Williams Metropolitan State University of Denver (CO), emerita Copyright © 2023 American Association of Teachers of French
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