Hello Gentle Reader
When you have read an authors work, it is often difficult not to compare their work, to prior reads. Such is the case with J.M.G Le Clezio and his two short story collections: “Mondo: and Other Stories,” and “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts.” “Mondo: and Other Stories,” came out, in the late seventies; and “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” followed suit in the early eighties. Both publications, did not find an English translation until, decade(s) after their initial publications. “Mondo: and Other Stories,” deals heavily with an innocent and dream like atmosphere; each stories focal point is growing up – generally in the ways of, a rite of passage. Young people are at the centre of the book; and their eventual departure from childhood, into the greater (and wider) world of adulthood; often in small cases. With the said collection, Le Clezio was able to write evocatively, about growing up; the slow process of shedding ones innocence and the eventual understanding of one changing and becoming an adult. Reading “Mondo: and Other Stories,” often left me with a feeling of nostalgia. As a reader – at any age – the ability to associate with an authors work is a great pleasure. Some literature is meant to educate; some bears witness. Others however, come to into a reader’s life, and allow there to be some form of association, with the written text, and the author who writes it. It is this moment of shared nostalgia – that allows for a sense of empathy to, be reached beyond geographical boundaries, and beyond the limitations of language. As an avid bibliophile – to the point that it is painful to look at the bank account; reading such literature is a great treat; and it is often few and far between. That being said; when such publications do come across ones path, they are to be treasured, and to be held dear. They hold a special place on the bookshelf. These books do not sit higher than others; nor do they sit lower. But upon a passing glance at them they are immediately recognized, by that sudden resurfacing of the enjoyment of reading them. Not through the technicalities of the text; not through the linguistic acrobatics of language; not through story or plot; but rather though that shared empathetic link of a shared understanding. That is why “Mondo: and Other Stories,” was a great enjoyment to read, and a book to treasure and hold dear.
“The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” is a lot different, then “Mondo: and Other Stories,” it goes back to Le Clezio’s themes as a “new novelist,” (Nouveau Roman) in the same vein as other such authors like: Alain Robbe-Grillet, Nathalie Sarruate, Marguerite Duras; as well as fellow Nobel Laureate, Claude Simon – who disagreed being grouped with the other authors; as well as literary philosopher Maurice Blanchot, and German speaking writer Peter Handke. In “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” it rehashes the themes of Le Clezio’s early work. The failure and boundaries of language, existential crisis, nihilistic desperation, and a world engulfing alienation and loneliness that leads to self-imposed solitary confinement and exile from all human contact. That also being stated, the stories, are written in Le Clezio’s more mature style. This can clearly be seen in the following passage from the story: “Ariadne,”
“The people aren’t anywhere to be seen; they’ve disappeared. The hulls of parked cars stand alone, just like these out in the immense car graveyards a little way upriver. This is their day, a day for abandoned carcasses with no motors, no doors, no wheels, with headlights gouged out, windshields shattered, hoods gaping and showing the black holes from which their cylinder heads have been torn.”
Immediately, it shows Le Clezio’s more well known mature style, that he had become famous for, and would later help him to go on to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. However the themes here are certainly pay homage to his rebellious youth; his pessimistic leanings in a modernized and consumerist world. The world, in which Le Clezio writes about, is a lament. A lament, of a world that is overdeveloped and in the process loses its self. The story: “Villa Aurora,” is a prime example. It’s a story that depicts a childhood paradise of memory, and nostalgia, slowly be consumed by the ever progressing world. However it had a lot, of that similar prose, that drew me into: “Mondo: and Other Stories.”
“Still, it's strange too when I think about those days--it's as if we all knew she was there, that she lived in the house, that this was her realm. Without even knowing what her real name was, we were aware of her presence; we were her familiars, her neighbors. There was a part of her that dwelled in the place, up there on the hilltop back them. Something we couldn’t really see but that was present in the trees, in the palms, in the shape of the white house, in the two stone pillars of the gateway, and in the high, rusty gate chained shut.”
It held true, to my preconceived notion of what the story would be like. It is draped in ethereal evocations and mixed with a heavy atmosphere of dream like, uncertainty. It was by far the only story that allowed me to truly conceive the notion that it held that similar sliver to the works that I have read before, and held dear, because of that capability. However “Villa Aurora,” was still off. It didn’t quite strike the same chord. This bothered me the most, because I know that the capability was there, it truly was. Somehow Le Clezio lost that ability. He was unable to reproduce old results; or I had come into the work with higher expectations. Yet I read on, holding my disappointment aside. The story finishes with, a portrait of times progression forward, and its lack of care or understanding of what it leaves behind:
“A year later, I was able to return to the hilltop. I'd thought about it constantly, and despite all the activity and futility of student life, deep down, there was still that feeling of uneasiness in me. Why? I think that ultimately I'd never quite been able to get used to not being what I had been, the child who went through the breach in the wall and who'd found all those hiding places and passageways there in the great wild garden among the cats and insect calls. It has remained within me, alive deep down inside me, despite all the wide world that had drawn me away.”
In a sense this story about the childhood homecoming, to only find one’s own childhood being engulfed in a world of window dressing and superficiality is, quite melancholic. One word that is associated with “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” is “depressing.” The story “Villa Aurora,” begins with an air of uncertainty in one’s own memory. It shifts then towards tainted and rose tinted memories that are akin to that of a fairy story. It then ends, with the note that a childhood paradise becomes a lonely beacon of hope – that will eventually meet its own demise, in a forever progressing world. When the light keeper dies so does the light.
Le Clezio is a rich writer. His work is wealthy and detailed, and written with such a beautiful style. His eye is trained to the landscape. It showcases his well traversed life. It comes to such a pity that, Le Clezio has depicted the landscapes here as deserted and alienated worlds. These worlds showcase human suffering in solitude, and alienated to the point of being disenfranchised. Le Clezio has compassion for these characters. They are the overlooked; the underprivileged. Le Clezio offers his compassionate gaze to these characters; and in doing so, has in a sense written this book about them, in a sense, to try and offer justice to their situations. The truth of the matter is, one must first know, and be acquainted with these harsh realities. If not, they come across, as someone standing on their soapbox crying out in monotonous voice, of how those who allow these atrocities to continue are as much to blame for the suffering of their fellow mankind/humankind then those who crack the whip. This is what leads “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” to become monotonous in its reading. To call it literary indigestion, would not be far off. However, it does offer a portrait into Le Clezio’s personal obsessions in regards to the disenfranchised or lost. However, I prefer Le Clezio when he is not taking up the mantel of social injustice writer. I prefer Le Clezio when he evokes nostalgia; not detailing the failures and limitations of society or of language. Perhaps after “Mondo: and Other Stories,” becomes less apparent in my memory, I can come back to “The Round and Other Cold Hard Facts,” with a less biased tone and understanding of the author.
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
*And Remember: Downloading Books Illegally is Thievery and Wrong.*
M. Mary
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