I listened to Marie Darrieussecq twice this month, once on l'Humeur Vagabonde and once on Du Jour au lendemain, and among the things she repeated in the second interview was her reaction to her second reading of Lolita. She had forgotten, or never realized, how violent the book was. It is, she said in so many words, a story of constant rape, full of violence and told uniquely from the point of view of the perp.
Clèves is Darrieussecq's latest novel and it is the retelling of The Princess of Cleves (on Sarkozy's must-not-read list and available free on the Kindle).
"Solange is 12, then 14, then 16. Before arriving at the sweet life that she imagines - a handsome husband, a pool, tennis with her friends - she must, like everyone else, cross the difficult passage from infancy to adolescence, from adolescence to the life of woman. The body undergoes its discomfiting changes, nothing is known about sex aside from slightly terrifying stories told by the most daring, you keep your eyes on the most handsome guy in high school and all the while let yourself be fondled by the sweaty guy with pimples. Between rose water dreams and the triviality of life, Solange-Lolita will make herself into a fille fatale."
