Even if the latest collection of short stories by the essential Gilles Archambault is entitled Living on low heatit is above all the scent of an imminent departure that emanates from these pages.
Nothing macabre, however, but through these subliminally sketched portraits, like so many slices of life of extreme finesse, we taste the bitterness of characters who, feeling the terminus approaching at low speed, grappling with a situation reminding them of the inevitable victory of Chronos, or simply entangled in an existential crisis, take a look at moments, decisions or turning points that marked their lives; if they had to do it again, would they take the same path?
The depths of winter could not have been a better season to launch this book into the hands of the public, since it perfectly embodies its spirit. The coldness of a regret, the sting of a breakup, the thrill of a memory that resurfaces without warning. Are our ordinary daily lives, once seen in our mental rearview mirrors, so imbued with banality?
“Luminous” is a cliché adjective that we like to bring out to describe a work that has seduced us. It will nevertheless remain in the drawers concerning Living on low heatwith a serious air, like so many grayish clouds on a funeral day.
Dark, certainly, but without condemning us to darkness; because this gallery of characters who doubt and meditate inevitably invites us to question ourselves, today, about the use of the meager time granted to us here below. Above all, even if it is about oneself as a starting point, thoughts always end up turning towards others.
The short story is generally an exercise guided by a winning plot: a strong moment, a turning point, a striking punchline. Here we find this formula effectively applied, in a format of striking brevity, serving us with parentheses immediately closed, extending over two to three pages; four, at most, all wrapped up in a hundred sheets. No doubt, in these flash stories there are false haiku tunes composed on existential themes.
One might have feared that these passages à vi(d)e would be exposed with a wrinkled, out of breath writing on the verge of extinction. On the contrary, it is a lively, sparkling and animated rhythm which serves a mature narrative, but conceals its age rather well. All that remains is to read these lightning flashes.
Living on low heat
Boreal
112 pages