La vieille fille et le mort
by Violette Leduc
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is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. Clarisse, who keeps the village café/grocery is in her fifties and still single, but not from want of offers. One evening a stranger comes into her café who has none of those male faults that have ruled out all previous applicants for her. This finally seems to be a man who might do as a companion, and Clarisse is very tempted to keep him all to herself. There's only one problem: he is inexplicably, but quite indisputably, dead. And doesn't appear to have anything to say to her.
We're definitely in 1950s theatre-of-the-absurd territory here: it's very easy to imagine this as a stage play, with poor Clarisse trying to secure some quality time one-to-one with the corpse, but constantly show more being interrupted by villagers who want to buy a glass of beer, some salt or a length of ribbon as an excuse to cry on her shoulders about their own problems (because Clarisse is obviously a key figure in the society of the village, even while she thinks of herself as an outsider.)
Of course there's a satirical point that you could reduce to that famous poster about fish and bicycles, but Leduc never makes it that explicit. She keeps the focus tightly on the world as Clarisse sees it. Even when we zoom out from the café in between scenes to pick up some nature imagery, it is all clearly coming from inside Clarisse's head.
Definitely odd, but rewarding. show less
We're definitely in 1950s theatre-of-the-absurd territory here: it's very easy to imagine this as a stage play, with poor Clarisse trying to secure some quality time one-to-one with the corpse, but constantly show more being interrupted by villagers who want to buy a glass of beer, some salt or a length of ribbon as an excuse to cry on her shoulders about their own problems (because Clarisse is obviously a key figure in the society of the village, even while she thinks of herself as an outsider.)
Of course there's a satirical point that you could reduce to that famous poster about fish and bicycles, but Leduc never makes it that explicit. She keeps the focus tightly on the world as Clarisse sees it. Even when we zoom out from the café in between scenes to pick up some nature imagery, it is all clearly coming from inside Clarisse's head.
Definitely odd, but rewarding. show less
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Violette Leduc had been publishing works of an autobiographical nature in France since 1945. But, aside from the enthusiastic support of Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre and certain other intellectuals, she had gone unnoticed until the publication of La Batarde (1964) propelled her to fame---in part, no doubt, for "the candor in the totally show more uninhibited descriptions of [her] Lesbian loves. . . . This, the story of [her] first forty years, is a courageous confession and a work of art, . . . a weird mixture of burning, naive, lucid, and unadorned sincerity . . . and of poetic inner monologue" (Henri Peyre, SR). (Bowker Author Biography) show less
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- La vieille fille et le mort
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- La vieille fille et le mort
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- Français
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