What do you think?
Rate this book
Il sorriso dell'orco
È l'estate del 1963 a Kehlstein, un piccolo borgo tedesco che coi suoi chalet di legno, le sue case gialle, verdi e rosa, le sue chiese barocche rallegra una valle cinta da monti e boschi. Paul Marleau, sedici anni, francese, vi è appena giunto per perfezionare il tedesco studiato al liceo. È un ragazzo riservato che non si separa mai dai suoi taccuini da disegno, sui quali riversa gran parte dei suoi impeti adolescenziali. Il suo sguardo non trascura perciò nulla di ciò che lo circonda, dagli abeti giganteschi che svettano nei boschi ai fiori che troneggiano sui balconi.
Sono trascorsi pochi giorni e Kehlstein già lo incanta e lo sgomenta. Il borgo sembra una grande sfera trasparente nella quale ogni cosa è vista con gli occhi di un bambino. I campi colorati a pastello, le chiesette che paiono giocattoli, le panchine di legno e le fontane così perfette, gli uomini che calcano cappelli decorati con piccole piume, le donne che se ne vanno in giro con graziose maniche a sbuffo e colletti di pizzo… E poi tutto quel folclore di cuoio, corno, velluti neri; un trionfo di verde e di rosso, di bianche e candide pettorine ricamate, di merletti, di orecchini d'argento; un odore di acqua di Colonia e di cipria che si mescola a quello del caffè e delle brioche. E, infine, lei… Clara Lafontaine, la ragazza che, in una bella domenica di luglio, si sveste completamente, la camicetta e i pantaloni buttati tra le canne, e scivola nuda nelle acque del lago, la pelle bianca che si scioglie nei bagliori della luce…. La bella Clara che, in un cupo giorno di pioggia, gli confessa che lì, a Kehlstein, nel fitto del bosco, nel punto esatto in cui suo padre, il dottor Lafontaine, si reca ogni giorno con un mazzo di rose, un suo commilitone durante l'ultima guerra, un certo Walter Moritz, è stato un trovato seduto ai piedi dell'albero, gli occhi aperti, lo sguardo sperduto, e i figli stretti nell'incavo delle due braccia… morti, soffocati.
La guerra è finita da diciassette anni a Kehlsten, ma è chiaro che le sue ombre aleggiano sull'apparente innocenza delle cose e i passati orrori si nascondono proprio lì, dove la gente, sdraiata sull'erba, ride, beve e sogna…
Straordinario «romanzo d'ombra e di luce» ("L'Express"), Il sorriso dell'orco ci conduce su quella sottile soglia dell'esistenza dove «l'umanità e la sua barbarie, l'amore e l'incommensurabilità del male» ("Libération") si tengono per mano.
Sono trascorsi pochi giorni e Kehlstein già lo incanta e lo sgomenta. Il borgo sembra una grande sfera trasparente nella quale ogni cosa è vista con gli occhi di un bambino. I campi colorati a pastello, le chiesette che paiono giocattoli, le panchine di legno e le fontane così perfette, gli uomini che calcano cappelli decorati con piccole piume, le donne che se ne vanno in giro con graziose maniche a sbuffo e colletti di pizzo… E poi tutto quel folclore di cuoio, corno, velluti neri; un trionfo di verde e di rosso, di bianche e candide pettorine ricamate, di merletti, di orecchini d'argento; un odore di acqua di Colonia e di cipria che si mescola a quello del caffè e delle brioche. E, infine, lei… Clara Lafontaine, la ragazza che, in una bella domenica di luglio, si sveste completamente, la camicetta e i pantaloni buttati tra le canne, e scivola nuda nelle acque del lago, la pelle bianca che si scioglie nei bagliori della luce…. La bella Clara che, in un cupo giorno di pioggia, gli confessa che lì, a Kehlstein, nel fitto del bosco, nel punto esatto in cui suo padre, il dottor Lafontaine, si reca ogni giorno con un mazzo di rose, un suo commilitone durante l'ultima guerra, un certo Walter Moritz, è stato un trovato seduto ai piedi dell'albero, gli occhi aperti, lo sguardo sperduto, e i figli stretti nell'incavo delle due braccia… morti, soffocati.
La guerra è finita da diciassette anni a Kehlsten, ma è chiaro che le sue ombre aleggiano sull'apparente innocenza delle cose e i passati orrori si nascondono proprio lì, dove la gente, sdraiata sull'erba, ride, beve e sogna…
Straordinario «romanzo d'ombra e di luce» ("L'Express"), Il sorriso dell'orco ci conduce su quella sottile soglia dell'esistenza dove «l'umanità e la sua barbarie, l'amore e l'incommensurabilità del male» ("Libération") si tengono per mano.
288 pages, Paperback
First published August 22, 2005
5 people are currently reading
78 people want to read
About the author
Pierre Péju
47 books6 followersPierre Peju was born into a family of booksellers from Lyons. He read philosophy at the Sorbonne, and while he was a student, he became involved in the famous demonstrations of May 1968. Pierre Peju is a teacher of Philosophy at the Lycee International of Grenoble. He is also the Director of Studies at the International College of Philosophy.
Pierre Peju is the author of ''The Girl from the Chartreuse'', published as ''La Petite Chartreuse'' in Peju’s native France, and this was also the title of the movie of the book, which was released in 2005. This novel received great acclaim in France, and won the Prix du Livre Inter for 2003. He is also the author of ''Clara’s Tale''(2007).
Pierre Peju is the author of ''The Girl from the Chartreuse'', published as ''La Petite Chartreuse'' in Peju’s native France, and this was also the title of the movie of the book, which was released in 2005. This novel received great acclaim in France, and won the Prix du Livre Inter for 2003. He is also the author of ''Clara’s Tale''(2007).
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
August 1, 2025
Une très belle écriture, une première partie haletante et éprouvante, des tranches de vies saisissantes (mais aussi des personnages féminins rares et pour certains bâclés, on a l'habitude).
March 27, 2025
Paul e Clara nel 1963 sono due adolescenti e il loro è l’incontro fra due anime sensibili e artistiche.
Lei usa la cinepresa come un filtro per catturare il fermo immagine di ciò che la circonda mentre lui disegna e mette su carta le forme mostruose create dalla sua mente.
Si riconoscono da subito, le loro affinità li uniscono, inesorabilmente e per sempre.
Sono però destinati a non restare assieme anche se le loro strade si incroceranno più volte nel corso delle loro vite.
Ciò che li unisce e li separa allo stesso tempo sono la caducità della vita e gli echi delle atrocità della guerra che gravano come una zavorra sulle loro spalle, dolorosa eredità lasciata dalla generazione che li ha preceduti.
La prima parte di questo libro è molto bella poi la trama a mio avviso si perde, a tratti mi ha annoiata e devo ammettere, ho fatto fatica a finirlo.
Lei usa la cinepresa come un filtro per catturare il fermo immagine di ciò che la circonda mentre lui disegna e mette su carta le forme mostruose create dalla sua mente.
Si riconoscono da subito, le loro affinità li uniscono, inesorabilmente e per sempre.
Sono però destinati a non restare assieme anche se le loro strade si incroceranno più volte nel corso delle loro vite.
Ciò che li unisce e li separa allo stesso tempo sono la caducità della vita e gli echi delle atrocità della guerra che gravano come una zavorra sulle loro spalle, dolorosa eredità lasciata dalla generazione che li ha preceduti.
La prima parte di questo libro è molto bella poi la trama a mio avviso si perde, a tratti mi ha annoiata e devo ammettere, ho fatto fatica a finirlo.
April 25, 2019
Un livre aux histoires hantées par le passé, par la douleur et la violence, émaillé de morceaux de douceur, mais jamais entièrement heureux.
Beaucoup de choses implicites, non-dites, une atmosphère parfois pesante, comme les sculptures de Paul...
C'était un livre intéressant, la plume de l'auteur est capable de belles choses (comme de choses plus sombres) et l'intrigue s'inscrit dans l'histoire de la Seconde Guerre Mondiale (et donc avec sa noirceur garantie) sans s'y attarder autant que je ne pensais, même si l'ombre de celle-ci plane tout au long du livre.
Ce n'est pas un livre coup de cœur, mais ses évocations, ses images et ses réflexions m'ont laissé pensive, parfois rêveuse, mélancolique (et ça j'aime bien aussi).
Beaucoup de choses implicites, non-dites, une atmosphère parfois pesante, comme les sculptures de Paul...
C'était un livre intéressant, la plume de l'auteur est capable de belles choses (comme de choses plus sombres) et l'intrigue s'inscrit dans l'histoire de la Seconde Guerre Mondiale (et donc avec sa noirceur garantie) sans s'y attarder autant que je ne pensais, même si l'ombre de celle-ci plane tout au long du livre.
Ce n'est pas un livre coup de cœur, mais ses évocations, ses images et ses réflexions m'ont laissé pensive, parfois rêveuse, mélancolique (et ça j'aime bien aussi).
December 31, 2019
Una mezcla irracional de todo lo que importa en el mundo. Sí te comprometes con este libro, no te defraudará
June 17, 2011
First, a little history of this book and how it found in my hands.
I found this book lying around the corner of Booksale (A Philippine used book store) for 45 pesos (1.00 US Dollar, 2011 FOREX) I was hoping to score a good find in the store, given that a copy of a book I reserved for another book store wasn’t coming for another good five days and that I was itching for a nice read. I liked translated books to English; the wealth and beauty of the narrative is a big draw for me. Plus, some of the translated ones I’m looking for are not even given reprints (and including the painful task of translation and the fees associated with it.) Peju’s book drew me in because it was hardbound, published in 2007, and the blurb issued forth interest in me.
I read the book while riding the MRT, read during my free times in the office, and pretty much, I had little sleep (more like 4 hours,) finishing the book 24 hours after I bought it.
Peju had me in a spell.
The book is cut in 2 parts. The first one flits between a summer vacation of a 17 year old lad in a quaint German village in 1963, and a campaign in Ukraine where 2 young men at the height of their careers are forced to do atrocities of unspeakable kind to the Jews in 1941. Paul Malbreau meets Clara Lafontaine in this quaint village of Kehlstein while spending his summer vacation. In between the chapters, alternating, the spot shares the history between Moritz, a German lieutenant who had succumbed to the ills of the German Nazi campaign in Ukraine and Arthur Lafontaine, the young doctor who has to save his ass off by shedding off sympathy rather than risk being killed. War ills have seeped into their lives, forcing Moritz to go insane after his return to Kehlstein and Arthur, which had grown distant from his family leaving to tend for his roses. While Clara and Paul’s flirtations to each other never materialize (and for us lovelorn guys, hope that for this early, something will blossom out, however cliché it may be,) their friendship continues to the second part of the book.
In the second part of the book, Paul becomes a successful sculptor, marries off a girl and rears children, while Clara becomes a successful war photographer. While their lives entwine, they never end up with each other, and instead, their lives lead to revelations, growing older, wiser, yet knowing the cycle that they had before them. For some odd reason, the sins of the father, as the blurb of the book is never fully eked out, and what remains were the infrequent presence of Clara.
As I closed the last pages of the book, I feel a sigh of relief, sorrow, and wonder at such an existential prose. It’s not much of a light prose, and not much of romance in here, more like a sweeping narrative with diversions and stream of consciousness elements. The translation, I could say, is brilliant, and the transition to old age went well. It’s not much as a novel of “hope” rather it is a novel about “living,” about how “original sins” rear their ugly heads, and about “moving on.” Rhetoric moves pretty well, it doesn’t bog down. However, I have to forewarn potential readers that the jacket blurb doesn’t tell much, so the occasional love story doesn’t exist here.
And, in the original hardcover, why is the model holding a Nikon, when it was clear that the only known make for the Camera that Clara held was an Agfa Movex?
I found this book lying around the corner of Booksale (A Philippine used book store) for 45 pesos (1.00 US Dollar, 2011 FOREX) I was hoping to score a good find in the store, given that a copy of a book I reserved for another book store wasn’t coming for another good five days and that I was itching for a nice read. I liked translated books to English; the wealth and beauty of the narrative is a big draw for me. Plus, some of the translated ones I’m looking for are not even given reprints (and including the painful task of translation and the fees associated with it.) Peju’s book drew me in because it was hardbound, published in 2007, and the blurb issued forth interest in me.
I read the book while riding the MRT, read during my free times in the office, and pretty much, I had little sleep (more like 4 hours,) finishing the book 24 hours after I bought it.
Peju had me in a spell.
The book is cut in 2 parts. The first one flits between a summer vacation of a 17 year old lad in a quaint German village in 1963, and a campaign in Ukraine where 2 young men at the height of their careers are forced to do atrocities of unspeakable kind to the Jews in 1941. Paul Malbreau meets Clara Lafontaine in this quaint village of Kehlstein while spending his summer vacation. In between the chapters, alternating, the spot shares the history between Moritz, a German lieutenant who had succumbed to the ills of the German Nazi campaign in Ukraine and Arthur Lafontaine, the young doctor who has to save his ass off by shedding off sympathy rather than risk being killed. War ills have seeped into their lives, forcing Moritz to go insane after his return to Kehlstein and Arthur, which had grown distant from his family leaving to tend for his roses. While Clara and Paul’s flirtations to each other never materialize (and for us lovelorn guys, hope that for this early, something will blossom out, however cliché it may be,) their friendship continues to the second part of the book.
In the second part of the book, Paul becomes a successful sculptor, marries off a girl and rears children, while Clara becomes a successful war photographer. While their lives entwine, they never end up with each other, and instead, their lives lead to revelations, growing older, wiser, yet knowing the cycle that they had before them. For some odd reason, the sins of the father, as the blurb of the book is never fully eked out, and what remains were the infrequent presence of Clara.
As I closed the last pages of the book, I feel a sigh of relief, sorrow, and wonder at such an existential prose. It’s not much of a light prose, and not much of romance in here, more like a sweeping narrative with diversions and stream of consciousness elements. The translation, I could say, is brilliant, and the transition to old age went well. It’s not much as a novel of “hope” rather it is a novel about “living,” about how “original sins” rear their ugly heads, and about “moving on.” Rhetoric moves pretty well, it doesn’t bog down. However, I have to forewarn potential readers that the jacket blurb doesn’t tell much, so the occasional love story doesn’t exist here.
And, in the original hardcover, why is the model holding a Nikon, when it was clear that the only known make for the Camera that Clara held was an Agfa Movex?
March 30, 2014
Clara's Tale. And yet this book is essentially about Paul, and the crossings of his life with Clara over the years. Clara is a mystery, appearing when she wants to, and disappearing from Paul's life at whim.
Paul is French, the son of a resistance fighter who survives the war only to die in mysterious circumstances, and Clara, the daughter of a German doctor who has tried to live with the memories of the atrocities he witnessed during the war. Both children have been surrounded by their parents' past involvement with the war, and carry the weight of their parents' grief.
Translated from the French, the prose is beautiful, on every level this book was a 5 star book for me.
Paul is French, the son of a resistance fighter who survives the war only to die in mysterious circumstances, and Clara, the daughter of a German doctor who has tried to live with the memories of the atrocities he witnessed during the war. Both children have been surrounded by their parents' past involvement with the war, and carry the weight of their parents' grief.
Translated from the French, the prose is beautiful, on every level this book was a 5 star book for me.
August 10, 2011
Un livre inégal. Le titre m'avait, bien entendu, accroché et je l'avais acheté pour cela. La première partie est très forte: lors d'un échange en Allemagne, le narrateur vit un évènement qui va le marquer à jamais et qui donne son titre au roman... La 2e partie, sur son retour et sa vie d'étudiant à Paris, puis la 3e partie, lorsqu'il devient sculpteur, sont plus faibles. Une lecture agréable mais sans relief.
July 13, 2012
envoûtant, grinçant.
November 18, 2012
I do not know what happened to me after reading this. It's as if a part of me becomes nothing but air.
And it is true that no matter what we do, the past haunts us, even those who do not witness it.
And it is true that no matter what we do, the past haunts us, even those who do not witness it.
January 5, 2016
What a beautiful tale!
January 3, 2017
Un beau roman et une belle histoire entre un français et une allemande au fil des années.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews