The French Review

Reviews 207 Pauline. Thomas also identifies strongly with the universality of nature for he does not believe he fits in the world of people. “Moi, je ne suis pas dans ce monde [...] Comme une feuille tombée d’une branche est pour moi une chose aussi importance que le déraillement d’un train” (77). In his search for independence he often spends days riding the local buses staring out of the window, and he is attracted to the crique des solitaires on a nearby beach with its coastal dangers. Moreover, in order to be better understood he writes a journal addressed to his mother in which he discloses his emotions and experiences in total honesty. He also hopes that his contemplations will bring him closer to her. The journal the reader reads becomes the novel. It is, furthermore , a most touching entry with a new sense of style oftentimes existentialist, and it shines with the mixture of both the young and preadolescent perspectives which are often both light and serious. The journal which covers the summer months depict Thomas’s experiences such as the touching and evolving relationship with Pauline, his encounter with near drowning by the hands of his nemesis, and the sporadic meetings with his father. The most startling encounter, however, occurs at the crique where he meets a woman named Violette who is to become his mère de lait, in contrast to his biological one referred to as his mère de sang (136). Violette is a magical sort of individual who accepts Thomas as if he had fallen as a gift from the heavens. In her lush domicile and its magical surroundings, Thomas finds a new freedom. The protagonist continues in this new life throughout the summer months until it becomes time for la rentrée scolaire, when in steps anxiety. Interestingly, Thomas seems to have given in turn a new life to Violette as well, but she remains, at least to this reader, such a mysterious and enigmatic individual that it makes one feel as if she is the pure imagination on the part of the protagonist. Duchatelet’s third novel, with its poetic visualizations and delightful depictions of characters, is pure delight and a magnificent discovery. It is indeed a lovely novel, or journal should one prefer to call it, to be read with openness and enjoyed fully. Metropolitan State University of Denver, emeritus Alain Ranwez Frégni, René. Les vivants au prix des morts. Paris: Gallimard, 2017. ISBN 978-2-07273282 -9. Pp. 192. Pour son quinzième roman, Frégni offre un titre à double sens. Il est non seulement question des poissons morts que l’on vend dans le port de Marseille, mais aussi des hommes que l’on retrouve, dans le même état, dans les rues peu sûres de cette capitale du crime. René n’est qu’un simple écrivain qui a pourtant affaire aux criminels lorsqu’il anime des ateliers d’écriture à la prison des Baumettes. Avant que le roman ne se transforme en thriller, René mène une vie paisible, tenant à portée de main son cahier “surtout rouge, d’un rouge qui réveille les mots” (18) dans lequel il décrit les collines de la Provence et sa relation intime avec Isabelle, l’institutrice, ou “la fiancée des corbeaux” (le titre de son roman qui date de 2011). Au lieu d’écrire “un beau roman noir” (18), il encourage son lecteur à tenir un journal au quotidien comme il le fait lui-même: “Tout le monde devrait s’amuser à jeter quelques mots, sans trop réfléchir ni avoir peur, sur la page blanche de chaque jour”(15–16). Mais,“la précieuse solitude”(34) de René ne peut durer: un ancien prisonnier, Kader (ou Derka en verlan) s’évade et demande son aide. Leur première rencontre dans la petite ville de Manosque est à la fois drôle et sinistre: “Plus je l’écoutais, plus je prenais conscience de l’histoire de dingue dans laquelle je venais de poser un pied, de la folie sans limites où il était en train de m’entraîner” (41–42). À la suite de cette...