Desolation

I was sorely disappointed by this rather unpleasant rambling of a nasty old man.

Perhaps it's not fair to expect the writer of a wonderfully witty 5* play, Art (which I reviewed HERE) to be as good at writing a novella, but this is really just one long soliloquy.

Unsavoury

Some reviews describe this as "comic", but the narrator was just nasty, with very little humour that I could see (and I say that as one who often enjoys books that lack sympathetic characters). The bits that come close include a friend's Viagra exploits. And that's it, so it should be "bit" (singular)!

Anyway, this is the ramblings and rantings of 73 year old man to his estranged 38 year old son. He moans about his son, his first wife (the son's mother), his second wife show more (Nancy), his mistress (Marissa/Christine), his housekeeper (whose faults include "existential positivism"!), friends, and others.

He is self-obsessed, self-pitying, shares inappropriate details about his sex life, rattles on about the philosophy of dead friends the son is unlikely to care about, and the ending is horrid. There is also some pseudo-psychological stream-of-consciousness, general bile, and a dash of paranoia concerning his wife and housekeeper.

Happiness

He claims, more than once, to want to know what happiness means, and yet his wife's happiness and zest for life infuriate him (it just puzzles me; I'd have left him or killed myself - or him!) and he is explicitly not pleased to be told that his son is happy. Later, he suggests "The road to happiness... is perhaps the road to oblivion".

The son is apparently non-productive, but happily travelling the world. Had he been chasing women, the father wouldn't have minded so much.

Expectations of One's Children

The father has always been disappointed by his "average" son, "I would have liked you better as a criminal or a terrorist than as a militant in the cause of happiness". Both his wives accuse him of traumatising the son.

His feelings about his son include "If I weren't moved by some degree of pity and affection for you, I'd find you repellent" and "If I loved you, I certainly didn't build an altar to your status as a child". Note that both start with "if".

When his daughter (a "cow") encourages him to read, now that he has spare time, he is less inclined to do so than if her reason was that he had less time. He attributes this to her failure to understand him, rather than his contrariness.

Other Prejudice

He is, culturally, Jewish, and particularly dislikes Jews who take on more of the trappings of Jewish identity.

His views of the housekeeper and her repairman husband (both of whom are Portuguese) are even worse, as he thinks of them as barely human, "Do they suffer as much as we do?... Without an imagination, you can't suffer."

Self

The nearest he comes to self-awareness is when he says "Don't let yourself be upset, my boy, by my deplorable rantings... I make myself odious, I make myself utterly ugly to test your affection". That may be true, but it only serves to emphasise his unpleasantness.

Quotes

There are a few good lines:

* "As she crunches her little piece of buttered toast with honey her eyes are marking out the hidden boundaries of her day... The woman is so upbeat, it's a nightmare."

* A friend, who has observed a tree, almost unchanged, in forty years, has noticed "time's shattering indifference".

* "We are only kissing the masks that hide the face of abandonment."

* "Another person's empty presence is the greatest lack of all... I can take your hand, and yet you couldn't be farther away. In your eyes I read your utter incomprehension... I read my abandonment."

Alternative

At 136 pages of largish print, I read it in one sitting. Had I stopped part way through, I might not have bothered to pick it back up.

Julian Barnes covers similar territory SO much better in his brilliant The Sense of an Ending (see my review HERE).

Or see anything by John Banville. I've reviewed several HERE. show less

Described as darkly funny, I just didn't find myself laughing, or even smiling, much as I read this. Maybe my sense of humor isn't what it should be. Maybe if I was an old man, I'd relate better. It was a mildly interesting book, but overall, a disappointment. At any rate, I think this ends my run of French-themed literature.

Update: A new review has been posted here about this fantastic title:
http://mewlhouse.hubpages.com/hub/Desolation-by-Yasmina-Reza

Original post: I will most likely write something about this book but so far I have not been inspired to do so. I loved reading it, however. I think most reviews here are wrong about the quality and tone of the work. It is important to note that this novel was written by a woman, and not just any woman with a pen. She is highly accomplished and has had opportunities and connections others have not. She knows a bit about things. I really like her and look forward to reading a couple more of her books that I recently ordered in for my library cave. Perhaps then, when I have finished them, I will have something show more more to say. But for those out there listening to these naysayers here, do not. Instead, dive in. show less

> Babelio : https://www.babelio.com/livres/Reza-Une-desolation/93283
> The French Review, Vol. 74, No. 6, Special Issue on Pedagogy (May, 2001), pp. 1284-1285
> BAnQ (Massoutre G., Le devoir, 5 févr. 2000) : https://collections.banq.qc.ca/ark:/52327/2797816

> Quelle est donc cette chimère illusoire et vide de sens que cette absurde quête du bonheur ? Le niais et débilitant contentement de soi est une fin suprême pour les frileux, les imbéciles dont la seule ambition consiste à contourner les obstacles, à se soustraire à la souffrance. À l'image de cette horde d'invertébrés léthargiques - l'humanité dans toute sa petitesse - ce fils renégat répondant aux critères de la moyenne exulte dans sa vie d'homme adapté au monde show more d'aujourd'hui. Foutaises, dit le père ! Car enfin, s'il faut accepter et céder à la vieillesse qui s'annonce, faut-il pardonner à sa progéniture de se complaire dans l'inaction ? C'est à moins que l'on prendrait la plume pour réveiller en lui ses instincts emportés, son âme révoltée. Alors, le voilà qui vitupère et qui rage contre tous, misogyne, mal embouché. Rares sont les élus de son coeur. A-t-il eu des illusions, elles se sont défilées. Pourtant la tempête qui déferle ne peut dissimuler les remords qui l'étreignent, ceux d'avoir fait d'un fils un parfait étranger. Avec une plume qui s'abandonne aux rondeurs d'un lyrisme maîtrisé, le premier roman de Yasmina Reza est une délicieuse friandise... à l'arrière-goût acide.
—Lenaïc Gravis et Jocelyn Blériot, Amazon.fr show less