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| A French Novel by Frédéric Beigbeder – review | A French Novel by Frédéric Beigbeder – review |
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| An amnesiac nation, in denial about its own war history, whose populace has succumbed to a vast unbridled materialism … it may all sound very American, but this is France, as portrayed by Frédéric Beigbeder. The book, translated by Frank Wynne, appears in English some time after publication in his native country, where it won the prestigious Prix Renaudot in 2009. | An amnesiac nation, in denial about its own war history, whose populace has succumbed to a vast unbridled materialism … it may all sound very American, but this is France, as portrayed by Frédéric Beigbeder. The book, translated by Frank Wynne, appears in English some time after publication in his native country, where it won the prestigious Prix Renaudot in 2009. |
| A French Novel is, despite its name, an autobiographical zigzag through the novelist's 60s and 70s upbringing, interspersed with a bitter account of two days he spent incarcerated in Paris after being caught snorting coke in public. Earlier novels such as Holiday in a Coma and the bold 9/11 fiction Windows on the World helped establish Beigbeder's reputation as a bright bad boy – a French Bret Easton Ellis or Jay McInerney (both of whom are namechecked in this book; McInerney is both a character in and a blurber of A French Novel). | A French Novel is, despite its name, an autobiographical zigzag through the novelist's 60s and 70s upbringing, interspersed with a bitter account of two days he spent incarcerated in Paris after being caught snorting coke in public. Earlier novels such as Holiday in a Coma and the bold 9/11 fiction Windows on the World helped establish Beigbeder's reputation as a bright bad boy – a French Bret Easton Ellis or Jay McInerney (both of whom are namechecked in this book; McInerney is both a character in and a blurber of A French Novel). |
| The conceit here is that Beigbeder's childhood has been a blank to him until the trauma of two nights in dingy prison cells operates as a prompt to his memory, and details of various childhood homes and family relations slowly return. By the time of his release 48 hours later, he feels he "might finally be a man" and has come to understand himself, and his nation, better. | The conceit here is that Beigbeder's childhood has been a blank to him until the trauma of two nights in dingy prison cells operates as a prompt to his memory, and details of various childhood homes and family relations slowly return. By the time of his release 48 hours later, he feels he "might finally be a man" and has come to understand himself, and his nation, better. |
| Beigbeder is smart and amusing, and issues a busy, entertaining broadcast of high-low cultural references: Flaubert, Céline and foie gras on some pages, Jack Bauer, Absolutely Fabulous and Carambar on others. The book is also somewhat at war with itself. Early on Beigbeder writes: "I despise family score-settling, exhibitionistic autobiographies, psychoanalysis masquerading as literature and airing dirty laundry in public." In the chapters that follow, however, the author will (gently) rebuke his mother for having lied about her affair that contributed to his parents' divorce; name several celebrities, models and nightclubs who have brightened his nights and days; speculate whether his block about his childhood might spring from the brutal murder of the woman who painted his portrait when he was a boy; and list in some detail the early sexual exploits of his older brother Charles, a successful businessman and practising Catholic. | Beigbeder is smart and amusing, and issues a busy, entertaining broadcast of high-low cultural references: Flaubert, Céline and foie gras on some pages, Jack Bauer, Absolutely Fabulous and Carambar on others. The book is also somewhat at war with itself. Early on Beigbeder writes: "I despise family score-settling, exhibitionistic autobiographies, psychoanalysis masquerading as literature and airing dirty laundry in public." In the chapters that follow, however, the author will (gently) rebuke his mother for having lied about her affair that contributed to his parents' divorce; name several celebrities, models and nightclubs who have brightened his nights and days; speculate whether his block about his childhood might spring from the brutal murder of the woman who painted his portrait when he was a boy; and list in some detail the early sexual exploits of his older brother Charles, a successful businessman and practising Catholic. |
| Michel Houellebecq, another friend of Beigbeder's, has been enlisted to provide a foreword, a piece both complimentary and somewhat critical, which is shaded in distinctly Houellebecquian tones. "Two things in particular … linger in the author's memory," the foreword foretells us: "the girls he has loved, the books he has read." | Michel Houellebecq, another friend of Beigbeder's, has been enlisted to provide a foreword, a piece both complimentary and somewhat critical, which is shaded in distinctly Houellebecquian tones. "Two things in particular … linger in the author's memory," the foreword foretells us: "the girls he has loved, the books he has read." |
| This is an interesting misdirection, because though there are vivid passages about teen lusts and embarrassments (young Frédéric was both a blusher and a nose-bleeder; and anyone who has ever snogged with braces will recognise that particular discomfort), A French Novel gathers its weight and interest from other quarters: in considering the impact of divorce, and in an affecting exploration of his close but fiercely competitive relationship with Charles. | This is an interesting misdirection, because though there are vivid passages about teen lusts and embarrassments (young Frédéric was both a blusher and a nose-bleeder; and anyone who has ever snogged with braces will recognise that particular discomfort), A French Novel gathers its weight and interest from other quarters: in considering the impact of divorce, and in an affecting exploration of his close but fiercely competitive relationship with Charles. |
| After sketches of the "penniless aristocrats and bourgeois eccentrics" that make up the two sides of his family, and a surprising discovery of his grandparents' little-mentioned safeguarding of Jews in the war, Beigbeder wanders as if by accident into an account of his parents' divorce, and how it affected his own later ability to be a present father for his young daughter. He is emphatic on the peculiarly screwed-up nature of divorces, and parenthood, in that era (this is where he invokes Ab Fab): "It was in 1972 that the war between the generations ended: from this point people began to live as infantile individuals." | After sketches of the "penniless aristocrats and bourgeois eccentrics" that make up the two sides of his family, and a surprising discovery of his grandparents' little-mentioned safeguarding of Jews in the war, Beigbeder wanders as if by accident into an account of his parents' divorce, and how it affected his own later ability to be a present father for his young daughter. He is emphatic on the peculiarly screwed-up nature of divorces, and parenthood, in that era (this is where he invokes Ab Fab): "It was in 1972 that the war between the generations ended: from this point people began to live as infantile individuals." |
| Alternating with Beigbeder's portrait of his 70s youth are passages that return us to his misery in jail. Beigbeder is aware that his harsh complaints might not earn our complete sympathy. "I'm just a privileged child deprived of his comforts as punishment for his overgrown rich-kid self-indulgence," he notes, in one of dozens of references to his being more of a boy than a man; though characteristically he follows the above with this wry addition: "Do not dismiss my suffering; comfort has been the great struggle of the French ever since the Liberation." | Alternating with Beigbeder's portrait of his 70s youth are passages that return us to his misery in jail. Beigbeder is aware that his harsh complaints might not earn our complete sympathy. "I'm just a privileged child deprived of his comforts as punishment for his overgrown rich-kid self-indulgence," he notes, in one of dozens of references to his being more of a boy than a man; though characteristically he follows the above with this wry addition: "Do not dismiss my suffering; comfort has been the great struggle of the French ever since the Liberation." |
| Still, even if he makes valid points about the squalor of the Paris Dépôt, the holding pen for the Palais de Justice ("in THE COUNTRY THAT GAVE BIRTH TO HUMAN RIGHTS"), and seems to take some credit for the fact that after his book's publication conditions in Le Dépôt were improved, it is hard not to feel that getting locked up for 48 hours in prison for snorting coke off the hood of a car, and then being released, is a better deal than, say, being shot down on a Florida street for buying a packet of Skittles. Beigbeder's intriguing art in A French Novel is walking a fine line between self-pity and self-awareness, a balance captured in pithy remarks like this one: "It is difficult to recover from an unhappy childhood, but to recover from a sheltered childhood may be impossible." | Still, even if he makes valid points about the squalor of the Paris Dépôt, the holding pen for the Palais de Justice ("in THE COUNTRY THAT GAVE BIRTH TO HUMAN RIGHTS"), and seems to take some credit for the fact that after his book's publication conditions in Le Dépôt were improved, it is hard not to feel that getting locked up for 48 hours in prison for snorting coke off the hood of a car, and then being released, is a better deal than, say, being shot down on a Florida street for buying a packet of Skittles. Beigbeder's intriguing art in A French Novel is walking a fine line between self-pity and self-awareness, a balance captured in pithy remarks like this one: "It is difficult to recover from an unhappy childhood, but to recover from a sheltered childhood may be impossible." |
| • Sylvia Brownrigg's The Delivery Room is published by Picador. | • Sylvia Brownrigg's The Delivery Room is published by Picador. |
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