Jacques Roubaud (1932–2024)

why not

against my face, the angel's, the black shadow face itself,

but all the seats are taken, all the worlds

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Strange cubish stanzas, reminiscent of Crane yet glistening with loss. Mournful shadows rule this roost. Agency leaks a cry when it finds the length of the tether. There is pause when these limits are considered. Cue the pain.

Roubaud utilizes a theoretical point of departure to imagine an innumeracy of worlds, yet finds the imagination insufficient for any transport away show more from his grief. His own feeling disallows the possibility of abstraction. The face must be scaled. show less

Searing and yet placid. There's an ill adjusted peace on display, a rounded resignation. I found myself aware that I didn't read Cancer Ward until last month because for 15 years people I cared about were dealing with the illness and I had to maintain a distance.

That is not an act of severing but instead a downcast pivot. Roubaud's poetry made me wary initially. I didn't wish to be the victim of backshadowing. Such precaution was unnecessary. These verses are artful and human. Cornel West show more is correct we can't lose ourselves in abstractions of death we must confront corpses, out denigrating corporeality. I felt Roubaud's pain but couldn't imagine it. I do wish he would abandon instant coffee. show less

Highly informed and stylized, Hortense Is Abducted is a madcap dissection of the detective genre featuring characters Roubaud developed in an earlier novel Our Beautiful Heroine, one which I haven't read. This is all out Oulipo, games and maths subvert the story and any sources of sentiment. The crime is solved via math, based on the sequence of characters appearing in the text. There are nods and plaudits all around. I did appreciate the effort, the scintillating architecture even if the show more sighs eventually defeated the laughter. show less

To put it another way: a book is the autobiography of its title and, as such, the narrative of a singularity.

This was by far my favorite Roubaud, which is surprising given the themes. The twinning of the author joining the Math department after previously working towards a degree in English is matched with another account fifteen years later as Roubaud was being sent in the military to an atoll for the testing of a nuclear weapon. It is the alien aspects of each decision which gave me show more traction. After a quarter century at my job I recently took a promotion which has cast me in a different dimension. There is a sudden surges of bureaucracy to navigate and endless documentation. My grace is to remain a Candide: it may not be better but it will be different.

But the remembrance of my incomprehension is far greater than the deductible knowledge of the fact that before understanding, I must not have understood.

There has been much to cram and familiarize. None of which will be broached on this site. I have leaned a great deal on friends lately, I should also note that Roubaud's sobriety has been a true asset as well. show less