There have been a few dark and cold days when the light seemed further away than it was, but its heat now ignites the province and, with it, the beings who inhabit it. Back home, the birds whistle a festive tune, the trees recognize each other by their flowers in their buttonholes and, in the distance, you can almost hear it: the bell of the last class before the holidays. In order to set the table for a summer of reading, here are some titles.
Manifest injustice
It is sometimes said—perhaps to reassure oneself—that it takes a long time to change mentalities and, in the momentum, to make the world evolve. Catherine Cuenca’s novel, Our bodies judged, transports us to 1978, in the daily life of Myriam, a young adult victim of rape who, traumatized, finds herself rejected by her parents and her best friend, unable to recognize the crime of which she is the victim. Isolated, betrayed, she tries to swallow her distress, until she feels guilty. The resounding Aix trial, described as the “rape trial” by Gisèle Halimi, will however give her the courage to initiate legal proceedings and thus regain her sovereignty.
Pedagogical and necessary novel, Our bodies judged highlights the disturbing vertigo of a rape victim and the arduous path she must take to obtain justice. We come out shaken, inhabited by a renewed desire to accelerate the march of the world.
Shards of you on the road
The narrator of Other people’s rain, the first youth collection by the poet Daphné B., does not lead a quiet existence: “one evening, my mother hits me // she calls it / losing patience”. However, it is not so much her own misery that torments her as that of others: “I am not sad in my bed / it is the rain of others / which comes to wet me”. Deeply inhabited by the need to help others, even to save them, she develops a complex friendship with a neighbor, Alejandra, suffering from an eating disorder which gradually erases her from the world. Their relationship is nourished by precious moments, but how not to give in to vertigo when death is on the prowl: “perhaps love is to pay attention / to things that break / always missing a little bit”. An untied language, riddled with striking and magnificent images, which allows us to consider the porous borders of love, ill-being and care. Vibrant.
Stephen King in car
A dreary American suburb. A pre-teen in search of stories to tell. But above all: a highway, on which there is an abandoned rest area, and a car, covered in mud, which seems to be in distress. The establishment of Mile 81, Stephen King’s novel recently translated in France, does not miss its target. Against the general indifference, a few good souls stand out who branch off from their route to come and help the mysterious driver of the soiled racing car. And so, one car at a time, the tension mounts and the great American dream loses its luster. With this short novel, Stephen King exploits some of the values dear to the great American myth – freedom, religion and the automobile -, distilling a little disturbing strangeness to screw up the mess. The mechanics of the story repeats itself a bit, but we don’t get bored.
I hate mosquitoes, but…
And the sky veiled with fury