Marie-Hélène Lafon

What is it with those contemporary French writers who prefer to write very distantly about trauma and the facts of life? Earlier I was introduced to the phenomenal Annie Ernaux and her low-key, almost impersonal style. Marie-Hélène Lafon seems to be doing the same thing. In this book she offers a purified family saga in barely 150 pages, in which hardly any emotions are discussed, but in which a concealed drama plays the leading role. In fact, it is the search of a certain André for his show more unknown father, and only at the end the exact family relationships become clear. Until then, Lafon leads us through time with many jumps (the story spans the period 1908-2008), alternating between Paris and the deep French countryside (especially the Cantal, a very remote department in the south). Little by little the family ties and the underlying major trauma become clear. Anyone who likes a pure, frugal style and minimalist stories will certainly find what they are looking for at Lafon. For me, it was just a little too distant. show less

Gordana is the check-out girl or rather woman under scrutiny from an author with the widest vocabulary imaginable. I was looking up every other word in a dictionary. The illustrations by Nihal Marth are interesting; the analysis of the characters in the supermarket is intense.

Cézanne. Des toits rouges sur la mer bleue by Marie-Hélène Lafon is a book length essay about the French painter Paul Cézanne. The author writes a lot about Cézanne's relation with doctor Gachet.

The book contains many beautiful descriptions, but on the whole the essay does not present any interesting ideas or insights.

Only the French can design, produce and sell beautiful pocket size books like this. The sad story, told in less than 32 pages, is of an adulterous love that ends in tragedy. The pages remain uncut.