A form of life
Amélie Nothomb
Albin Michel
August 2010
15,90 €
Monday, October 25, 2010, Paris
No better than any other. That would have been too easy. I discovered the Belgian writer with his ninth novel, « Stupeur et Tremblements ». Sometimes you can only count to 10. With Amélie, I’d already gone further. « Hygiène de l’assassin ». « Metaphysics of tubes ». « Cosmetics of the Enemy ». « The Biography of Hunger. « Sulfuric acid »… And yet, believe it or not, 5 years later, Amélie still meant nothing to me, except perhaps (come on, ok) her face, which – I think – still bears her name quite well.
- Photo credits: EP
Until I came across this: « What do you want to happen? The next Nothomb will be what the last was. Well, here’s the surprise: the new Nothomb is, quite simply, her best novel. Above all, it’s an excellent book for anyone seeking to unlock the secrets of literature. (Damn, I was concerned.) Amélie Nothomb does what every decent writer should do: cross the line. The line? The border, if you prefer. In this case, the one that separates literature. »
Apology was the order of the day. Yet, believe it or not, I didn’t get much further with FB (the editorialist), who seemed – incidentally – a little less coolos than the other, and I ended up asking AM to acquire the book « as soon as possible ».
FB, courageous but also reckless, titled his book « Le cru de la maturité » (« The vintage of maturity »). Amélie, for her part, called her book « Une forme de vie ». Unconvinced, I adopted an attitude that could be described as: « Cosmetic forms of the skeptic ».
169 pages. 120 minutes inside. Between pages 43 and 44, we really laugh: « I heard the army had to create a new size for us: XXXXL… I hope they launch the XXXXXL, because we have no intention of stopping there. Between you and me, if they weren’t so stupid, they’d make us a stretch outfit. I mentioned this to the equipment manager and this is what he said: « Impossible. Stretch is the opposite of the military spirit. You need rigid clothing, in non-stretch fabrics. Elastic is the enemy of the army. » I thought we were at war with Iraq, now I find out we’re at war with latex. »
But, much to my chagrin, after the latex coup, everything falls apart. Amélie sulks almost as much as she does on her cover. Watches herself write. Palms her big character. And the story slides towards her. The book ends with: « You know: if you write every day of your life like someone possessed, it’s because you need an escape route. For you, being a writer means desperately looking for a way out. An adventure that you owe to your own recklessness has led you to find it. Stay on the plane, wait for the arrival. Hand over the documents at customs. And your impossible life will be over. You’ll be free of your main problem, which is yourself. »
It’s a form of life in which Amélie seems to be making her own way out.
- Photo credits: EP
Elisa Palmer