A quarter past seven, Aline gets on the bus, a nice trip in an organized group, like every morning. The young woman told by Jules Clara in Von Westmount is one of those millions of people who, every day, suffer the small humiliations of a mediocre boss, a deficient public transport system and an entire existence spent smiling blissfully at others, without complaining.
Before setting fire to the Christmas Market in the city center, where she serves mulled wine to more or less pleasant tourists in the hope of generous tips, the desperate student throws herself at the opportunity to become Clémentine’s nanny. , the child of a very wealthy Russian family, settled in Westmount.
Caustic fable on class dynamics, which continue to be reflected in the organization of urban space, this second novel by Jules Clara (after Swiss parenthesis in 2020) combines the fluffy weightlessness of a strange dream with the harshness of a city where everything conspires to crush some of its citizens.
Biting criticism of the superficial progressivism of the ultra-rich, who precede their opulent 5 to 7 speeches of territorial recognition, Von Westmount oscillates between a satirical tone and a deep anger in front of all these submissions on which rests the organization of our society. Submissions that no one dares to name as such, at the risk of being accused of wanting to dismantle capitalism.
Carried by a writing of a poisonous elegance, which distills drop by drop the poison of his implacable gaze, Von Westmount is one of those all-too-rare novels that refuses to provide its reader with the appeasement of a small glimmer of hope, which would allow us to be lulled into the certainty that we are not part of the problem. Beneath its tragicomic veneer, this is one of the most punky books of the year.
Von Westmount
Jules Clara
The Wick
180 pages