“It’s to be more free that we write. This is the observation that Dany Laferrière offers to the narrator and alter ego of Akim Gagnon, who signs the cigar at the edge of the lips, his first novel. In this autofiction made of alcoholic impulses and scatological distress, under the cover of a thunderous bawdying, a vulnerable character is revealed who seeks, through writing, to free himself from the gaze of others.
The pernicious cycle in which Akim Gagnon is stuck does not take long to reveal itself. Alcohol, drugs and arrogance, the character bathes in excess: “The evening has barely begun and I am already looking for my words when I address my friends. yells on the stairs. I rely on cocaine to sober me up a little and put my words in order. But if we thought we were inviting ourselves to a party, it is rather the gates of hell that open a little more with each trip.
The end of his romantic relationship, the dizzying excesses of cocaine and the repeated failures of his replacement love affairs plunge him into depression. Through the writing of his novel, but above all thanks to the therapy he undertakes, he leads an emancipatory quest which must free him from his demons. However, the path is arduous: “I haven’t changed one bit. It is always provocation that guides all of my ideas. I tread water with my feelings and I don’t delve into anything. »
The energetic row of drinking stories is then replaced by a series of introspections that start the rhythm of the story. The good intentions are invited in the irreverence crossed by vulnerabilities of the character, which loses its complexity. Fortunately, Akim Gagnon is getting better and, with him, the second part finds its breath: “I want to party to celebrate the publication of my book. Even if it’s not finished. Even if it’s the beginning of a manuscript. I’ll finish it a bit later. First I have to share the good news with all the bars in town. »
Sheltered from drugs, installed in a stable romantic relationship, he sees his flights become less perilous. More serene, we feel he is ready, finally, to free himself from the gaze of others: “Did I end up being taken in by myself again and fell into the trap of representation? Am I giving a show, again? »
The story sometimes shows the bewilderment of its drunkenness, accumulating sidesteps before moving forward again, as if the pleasure of a good anecdote was worth all the digressions. But the pleasure of reading is there. Akim Gagnon is generous, quick to hilarious self-mockery and touching with his propensity for love and tenderness. Clever staging of a Rabelaisian grotesque, The cigar at the edge of the lips has the luster of those escaped evenings, in alcohol and friendship, that the lights of the last call come to interrupt. Looking forward to the next tour.