Colline

Trilogie de Pan #1

by Jean Giono

Un débris de hameau où quatre maisons fleuries d'orchis émergent des blés drus et hauts. Ce sont les Bastides Blanches, à mi-chemin entre la plaine et le grand désert lavandier, à l'ombre des monts de Lure. C'est là que vivent douze personnes, deux ménages, plus Gagou l'innocent. Janet est le plus vieux des Bastides. Ayant longtemps regardé et écouté la nature, il a appris beaucoup de choses et connaît sans doute des secrets. Maintenant, paralysé et couché près de l'âtre, il parle sans arrêt, « ça coule comme un ruisseau », et ce qu'il dit finit par faire peur aux gens des Bastides. Puis la fontaine tarit, une petite fille tombe malade, un incendie éclate. C'en est trop! Le responsable doit être ce vieux sorcier de Janet. Il faut le tuer...

Dans Colline, premier roman de la trilogie de Pan (Un de Baumugnes, Regain), Jean Giono, un de nos plus grands conteurs, exalte dans une langue riche et puissante les liens profonds qui lient les paysans à la nature.

Genres: Fiction, France, Classics, Novels, Literature, 20th Century, French Literature

158 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1928

About the author

Jean Giono, the only son of a cobbler and a laundress, was one of France's greatest writers. His prodigious literary output included stories, essays, poetry, plays, film scripts, translations and over thirty novels, many of which have been translated into English.

Giono was a pacifist, and was twice imprisoned in France at the outset and conclusion of World War II.

He remained tied to Provence and Manosque, the little city where he was born in 1895 and, in 1970, died.

Giono was awarded the Prix Bretano, the Prix de Monaco (for the most outstanding collected work by a French writer), the Légion d'Honneur, and he was a member of the Académie Goncourt.

Reviews

[Jordan West · Rating 4 out of 5]

Surprisingly fewer steps removed from, say, Algernon Blackwood, than one might expect.

[Dax · Rating 4 out of 5]

Giono made a point to title this work ‘Hill’, as opposed to ‘The Hill’. By removing the article, Giono is suggesting what just about every reader will come to find for themselves; that said Hill is our protagonist in this slim novel. It starts off a little strange, and never really stops being strange, but the enjoyment factor increased once Hill comes to life and the residents of this small village start to panic. This is the first installment of what Giono referred to as his Pan trilogy. Pan was The Greek mythological god of the wild, nature, and is the root of the word panic. You can see where this is going. The characters gradual descent to chaos and paranoia is wonderfully executed. It starts with mere superstition, but then the ravings of a madman push the residents over the edge towards pure panic. Great ending too; it illustrates man’s tendency to quickly forget the lessons of the past. A quick, impressive read.

[Tony]

This had a fabulistic quality to it. Hardscrabble people living near a hill. You see a black cat and, two days later, bad stuff happens. First the water disappears. Then there is a fire. So, is the whole world really falling to pieces?

The obligatory nyrb-classics Introduction assures us this was a prescient forewarning of global warming. I didn't get that. By the way, I am not a denier (of global warming) but I don't find hyperbole helpful to my open mind. My nose in too many books, I suppose, I've failed to notice that seasonal cycles go haywire and the planet itself shivers into a bone-wrenching fever. Uncertain which demagogue to vote for in the Fall, I missed that Many people are bereft and that a future once anticipated with excitement now looms as an inchoate shadow stirring only a vague dread. Again, please, I'm not a denier; but, well, I'm not quite bereft.

[Matthew · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this French eco-fable published in 1929 and set in the foothills of the Alps. This is my second time reading Giono, after the wonderfully strange A King Alone, though this book was his first published novel.

This novel is not quite as focused as A King Alone, and its characters are not as sharply drawn. But Giono writes poetically and cinematically here too, and is able to convey a strong sense of place and a powerful message of the importance of respecting the natural world. Despite some 'first novel' flaws, it definitely makes me want to continue exploring Giono's work.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jean Giono's Hill is the tale of several Provencal peasants living in an isolated hillside community facing the ravages of a nature gone mad. Their patriarch, the half-paralyzed Janet frightens them with tales of their folly in the face of nature:

Earth isn't made for you alone to keep on using the way you've been used to, on and on, without getting some advice from the master every once in a while. You're like the tenant farmer -- and then there's the landlord.

This is Giono's first novel, published in 1929. Curiously, in today's ecologically aware environment, it even comes across as being politically correct, with perhaps a touch of the supernatural involved in the person of a cat who appears before the disasters that befall the hamlet.

Those two disasters are, first, the drying up of their well, and second, a brush fire that threatens their homes and kills one of their number.

This is a quick read with a wonderful feel for the people of the Bastide Blanche and the world in which they live.

[J.M. Hushour · Rating 4 out of 5]

"These hills, you shouldn't trust them."

"Hill" is a terse, foul-tempered and mysterious little novel. The bare-bones denizens of a mostly-abandoned French village wonder in horror as first the fountain dries up and then an apocalyptic fire rages. An old man lies on his deathbed spouting Faulknerian horrors and a mysterious cat stalks the villagers bringing forth dreadful catastrophe.
I can't go any further than that, because you really should read this and I don't want to tease you with too much of the little novel's innate terror, but I'd probably categorize this with the likes of such realist horror as "The Sheltering Sky" or Du Maurier's original short story "The Birds" where nature is (maybe) our undoing. Or is it our simpering idiocy?

[yelenska · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interessant de comparer le Giono d'avant et après guerre, vraiment. 💚🍃✨️

[Dame Silent]

Wow, c'était puissant ! Le premier roman de Giono, le premier que je lis aussi, et je suis bluffée par le ton et l'ambiance. C'est noir et dense, teinté de surnaturel, une sorte de thriller dans lequel la tension monte tout du long. Excellente découverte !

[eve · Rating 3 out of 5]

un récit captivant et haletant qui ne fait pas oublier, malgré tout, la pénibilité de ce style cru, parfois proche de la didascalie, qui rend la lecture laborieuse et souligne la répétition soporifique des gestes de l’homme qui, contre la nature, ne possède que quelques outils. c’est un beau texte sur la vie végétale, son frémissement lyrique et parfois mortel ; on y retrouve l’ambiance sudiste d’un Steinbeck ou d’un Faulkner, avec ce personnage typique de « l’Idiot » et le sang chaud qui semble sécher sur les pages comme dans les champs brûlés de la colline. peut-être trop vingtièmiste pour moi, Giono est un auteur que je suis heureuse d’avoir enfin lu — et peut-être ses récits plus longs me parleront-ils davantage.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have a professed weakness for a certain type of novel. Should it exist in some sylvan world in which quasi-gnostic/pseudo-gnomic traditions prevail; if some undefined chthonic power seems to hold malignant sway; and if humanity is held within the yaw and roll of these fablistic conventions: I am sold. I am, seemingly, powerless against the draw of these modern takes on Grimmian tropes.

No, none of the above is an apology, rather, my ardent recommendation. This hill wants you dead.

[Bea · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wondermooi boekje.

Over de fragiele symbiose tussen mens en natuur, waarbij de ene keer de mens het overwicht haalt en op andere momenten dan weer de natuur.

Geschreven in 1929 en toch voelt het op geen enkel moment gedateerd aan, noch wat betreft het verhaal noch wat betreft het taalgebruik, dat tijdloos en heel poëtisch is.

Recent is er een Nederlandse vertaling verschenen (zie hiervoor de uitstekende bespreking van Truusje Truffel)

[tomasawyer · Rating 4 out of 5]

J'avais déjà lu ce bouquin étant gosse et j'en gardais un souvenir assez négatif. J'me souvenais de longues descriptions de paysages campagnards et de la vie déprimante des derniers habitants d'un village paumé. Et puis miracle, ce matin, je constate que les descriptions sont loin d'être interminables, elles sont fluides à lire, pleine d'onirisme et de poésie. Les paysages respirent, la nature est bien vivante. Les personnages sont assez rustres pour être crédibles sans se rendre détestables.

En fermant ce livre, me viendrait presque l'envie de partir avec un sac à dos pour explorer des villages abandonnés comme celui décrit dans le livre. Faudra juste que je prévois des vêtements voyants pour pas que les chasseurs me confondent avec un sanglier.

[Konserve Ruhlar · Rating 2 out of 5]

Her ne kadar yazarın şiirsel dilini beğensem de hikayenin içine girmekte epey zorlandım. Fransa'nın Alpleri'nde bir tepedeki köyde izole şekilde yaşayan bir grup köylünün doğa ile imtihanını anlatıyor bu kısa roman. Akıl ve mantık sınırlarının ötesinde gerçekleşen olaylar cahillikle birleşince evlere şenlik olaylar silsilesi başlıyor. Köyün üzerindeki tepe adeta canlanıyor ve küçük insanoğlunun en korkulu düşmanı oluyor.
Kitapta en çok doğanın tasvir edildiği bölümleri sevdim. Öyle güzel anlatmış ki adeta rüzgarda salınan otların hışırtısı geliyor kulağa. Eskişehir Adımlar Kitabevi'nde karşıma çıkmıştı bu roman. Hem kapağı hem de arkadaki kısa tanıtım yazısıyla ilgimi çekmişti. Ama beklediğim gibi olmadı okuma deneyimim. Bitirmekte epey zorlandığımı itiraf etmeliyim.

[Zea · Rating 5 out of 5]

sentences <3

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received an ARC from NYRB Classics.

Four families live quiet and simple lives at the foot of a hill in Provence in the early twentieth century. Their small community consists of four white houses and a small shack for an old bachelor that also lives among these peasants. Their days consist of working the land, drinking wine and telling stories. But their bucolic life is threatened when day when a black cat crosses their paths.

Janet, the eldest of the group, has lived at the foot of this hill for most of his life and the last time that this black cat came around it also meant trouble for their little village. Janet's son-in-law, a man named Gondran, as well as the other neighbors are all on high alert as they are anticipating some kind of calamity to happen to them. The peasants believe in many old wives tales and different forms of superstition and to them a black cat is the ultimate sign of bad fortune about to strike.

When their well runs dry and they are desperate for water, the villagers decide that it is finally time to consult Janet about what to do. But Janet is on his deathbed and spends his days laying in bed and mumbling gibberish. Janet also has strange visions and at one point he thinks there are snakes coming out of his fingernails. They are doubtful as to whether or not they can pry some useful information out of this delirious old man.

What Janet gives them is a beautiful and timeless commentary on mother earth and a lesson on how we ought to treat and respect nature. Janet paints for them a picture of an earth where everything is alive and has feeling. Every time we chop down a tree, or drive a spade into the dirt or hunt an animal the earth feels it and it hurts her. The idea that the earth senses pain and actually cries out every time we use a foreign object to dig into the soil was one of the most powerful points in the book for me.

Giono personifies the earth through language rich with spiritual terms; he imagines a supreme protector of the earth who walks around in a sheep skin that was gifted to him by the animals. And humans have harmed earth so much that the kindly, supreme being can no longer heal her many wounds.

The commentary on the spirituality of nature and our abuse and misuse of the limited resources that the earth gives us is a timely theme that we continue to discuss in the twenty-first century. We must realize that the pollutants we put into the air, the poisons we put into the ground and the extraction of natural resources all have a negative effect on our environment. Giorno's words are just as applicable today as they were almost one-hundred years ago when he wrote this brief yet powerful little story.

The plot itself of this book is not necessarily a page-turner, but the inspirational language and social commentary are well worth the read.

[milu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Colline...

j'ai dû le lire en quatrième, ça m'avait foutu une claque. Plus tard j'ai eu une très bonne note en rédaction-- j'avais décrit un incendie, un pastiche éhonté. Encore plus tard je suis tombé amoureux d'une jeune fille prénommée Coline-- une vraie sauvagine. Va savoir.

Je viens de le relire. Bizarre, le mysticisme écologique et inquiétant du vieux Janet. Mais Gondran au champ, qui sent soudain sourdre la révolte invisible de la colline... inoubliable. Il y a des choses pas traduisibles: à qui connaît les Alpes, le parler méditerranéen a des sons et des odeurs entre les voyelles...

[Brian · Rating 4 out of 5]

c.f. Haushofer’s Wall, Comyns’ Changed/Dead

"That's when everybody turns up: the turtledove, the fox, the snake, the lizard, the mouse, the grasshopper, the rat, the weasel, and the spider, the moorhen, the magpie, everything that walks, everything that runs. There are roads full, you might even go so far as to say streams full of animals. It's a stream that's singing and leaping and it flows and rubs at the sides of the path and tears away lumps of earth and carries away whole limbs from hawthorns the stream has uprooted.

"And they all come because he's the father of caresses. He has a word for each one of them:

“'Tourturtle, take route, tooraloo; fox, phlox, flame-in-a-box.’

"He teases tufts of fur toward himself.

"’Lachrymizard, muse, musette, calf's muzzle wedged in a bucket.'

"Next he's going to take a stroll through the trees.

"For the trees, it's the same. They know him. They're not afraid.

"You — you've never known anything but trees that are on their guard. You don't know what a tree really is. Around him, they behave the same as they did during the first days of the world, before we'd cut a single branch.

“...There were woods, and no sound of the axe yet, or of the pruning hook. No knife blade yet on the hillside, the woods on the hillside, and no axe.

"He passes alongside, in his sheepskin jacket. Linden trees make sounds like weeping cats, the chestnuts sound like women moaning, and the plane tree creaks from inside itself, like a man begging for charity.”

[66–67]

[VoyagedeFumiko · Rating 5 out of 5]

La vraie question c'est : Giono peut-il être décevant ? (Je ne crois pas.)

[Zeliha · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jean Giono romanlarını okumak benim için hep zor zamanlara denk geliyor. Tepe de Eğlencesiz Bir Kral gibi okumakta zorlandığım bir döneme denk geldi. Neyse ki yazarın tarzına biraz alıştığım için bu defa sürünmedi.

Kitap iki tepe arasına kurulmuş, 13 kişinin yaşadığı, nispeten izole bir köyde geçiyor. Köyün belki de en yaşlısı olan Jenet’in doğanın, köy sakinlerinin yıkıcılığına karşılık olarak verdiği felaketler diye bahsettiği bir dizi olayla köylülerin birlik içinde mücadelesi anlatılıyor.

Anlatım tarzı sebebiyle sakin bir kafayla okunması daha rahat olabilecek bir roman. İlk yarısındaki gizem ve gerilime alıştıktan sonra ikinci yarısı daha kolay ilerliyor.

[Truusje Truffel · Rating 5 out of 5]

De boosaardigheid van de heuvels

Les Bastides Blanche; een bijna verlaten hameau, ver van de bewoonde wereld, in de Provençaalse heuvels met vier huizen, bewoond door een dertiental inwoners. Ze verdienen er hun brood met hun boerenbedoening, vertellen elkaar verhalen en laten de absint en wijn rijkelijk vloeien. Mens en natuur gedijt in symbiose, de gemeenschap leeft tezamen in relatieve eenzaamheid, maar alles lijkt pais en vree te zijn.

'De wilde dieren en mensen van de Bastides kruisen elkaar bij de bron, bij het water dat uit de rots komt stromen, zo zacht op de tongen en de vachten.'

De auteur Jean Giono (1895-1970) is zelf ook geboren in de Provence. Toen hij gewond terugkeerde uit de Eerste Wereldoorlog heeft hij zijn pen opgepakt om verzen en mythische romans te schrijven waarin hij gewag maakte over de verbinding tussen mens en natuur. In 1929 verscheen Heuvel, het eerste deel van de Pan-trilogie. In de Griekse mythologie is Pan de god van het bos, de beschermer van de herders en hun vee en de god van het dierlijke instinct. Een toepasselijke titel voor deze trilogie.

Het verhaal
Vanwege een halfzijdige verlamming verblijft de ruim tachtigjarige Janet bij zijn dochter en schoonzoon. Hij slijt zijn dagen in bed, op zijn rug en stijf als een 'stuk dood hout'. Volgens zijn schoonzoon raaskalt hij, maar toch klinkt er onheil door in zijn woorden. Wanneer er een everzwijn en een pikzwarte kat in het dorpje worden gesignaleerd, wakkert dat de bijgelovigheid aan en herinneren de mannen zich de rampspoed waarvan deze dieren destijds een voorbode waren. Janet krijgt een visioen: ze moeten terug naar het basale en niet alleen maar alles als vanzelfsprekend nemen, dankbaar zijn en niet alleen nemen, maar ook teruggeven aan de natuur waar ze zo afhankelijk van zijn.

'De aarde is niet voor jou alleen gemaakt, om haar te gebruiken zoals je dat altijd doet, zonder zo nu en dan de raad van de meester ter harte te nemen. Jij bent als een boer in zijn mooie jasje met zes knopen, een bruin fluwelen vest en een mantel van schapenvel. Ken jij hem, de baas?'

Wat er dan gebeurt zet de mensen op scherp. De enige bron van watervoorziening blijkt spontaan opgedroogd te zijn, de kleine Marie wordt ziek en krijgt stuipen, waardoor 'er grote golven door haar heen trokken die haar botten lieten schreeuwen'. Ook de aarde lijkt te schudden en een allesverzengende, apocalyptische bosbrand breekt uit en bedreigt het dorpje. De mannen voeren een gevecht tegen het onheil en de vier elementen van de natuur. Groot is de verwoesting, alsof de aarde hen wil laten inzien dat er roofbouw wordt gepleegd op de natuur, en de bewoners tot bezinning wil brengen. Razend en radeloos is de blinde paniek. En daartussendoor laveert de zwakbegaafde Gagou die zijn eigen plan lijkt te trekken.

'De aarde was op slag furieus. Heel even verdedigden struiken zich vloekend, en daarna kwam de vlam op ze af en vermorzelde ze onder haar blauwe voeten. Ze danste schreeuwend van blijdschap, maar al dansend bewoog ze zich heel sluw, met kleine pasjes, naar de jeneverbessen verderop, die zich niet konden verdedigen. In een mum van tijd gingen ze neer, en ze schreeuwden het uit terwijl de vlammen op het nu platte en vrije stuk grond door het gras huppelden.'

Giono heeft zijn pen gedoopt in beeldende inkt en zijn beschrijvingen laten het boek lezen met gebruikmaking van alle zintuigen. Door het gebruik van beeldspraak - in dit geval de stijlfiguren personificatie, animalisering en materialisatie - krijgt het lyrische proza een magische twist. Een fenomenale allegorie; van de aarde die terugvecht, die doet denken aan De grote angst in de bergen van Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz.

Wat dit werk zo fascinerend maakt is dat dit bijna honderd jaar geleden geschreven werk nog steeds zo bijzonder actueel is en toont hoe we roofbouw plegen op de aarde. Zorgen om de verandering van het klimaat avant la lettre en een boetedoening voor begane zonden.

Hoedje af voor Kiki Coumans, die de vertaling voor haar rekening heeft genomen en hopelijk al aan het werk is gezet om ook Un de Baumugnes en Regain, deel twee en drie van de Pan-trilogie, te vertalen.

Lees en geniet van dit juweeltje, één van de vele die Uitgeverij Vleugels met zoveel geestdrift en toewijding uitbrengt.

[James Murphy · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's a question sometimes brought up in book discussion groups: is a novel's setting or landscape a character? You can occasionally see that it is, most often not. I do remember a professor once stating that in a Hardy novel the Wessex sun is a character. In Jean Giono's novel Hill it's apparent and would have been even if David Abram's "Introduction" hadn't alerted the reader to the fact that the hill on which these 4 families live in the French Alps is alive. When the hamlet is exposed to a series of calamities they react superstitiously. A wild boar is causing bad luck, they say. A black cat is blamed for their troubles. Eventually they come to believe nature is being led in revolt by one of their number. But hysteria is certainly at work, too. Turning to a dictionary of mythology I learned that the god of Greek herdsmen was believed to be the cause of sudden, unreasoning fear that overcomes people in lonely, desolate places. Googling brought me round to the word "panic" originating in the name Pan. And finally the name drops in the novel, striking the hard, ancient earth of the hill with a thud.

[Dylan · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wanted to enjoy this book but things didn't work out that way.

Despite not enjoying Hill I do recognize its undeniable merit. Sadly, that merit is not enough to redeem it. Maybe I was distracted or not in the right head space for this short novel but I found it insufferably boring - I wanted to be done with it, which is never a state that makes for pleasant reading.

There is, however, one particular scene early on which I feel will stay with me far into the future: a character stomps on a lizard, ending its life - and this simple, brutal act throws the character into deep a reflection that is surprising and challenging. These few pages are gold.

Not really my cup of tea but perhaps I should revisit it sometime in the future.

[Blanche · Rating 3 out of 5]

Je suis assez mitigée. J'ai bien aimé le style, sans pour autant être transportée. L'histoire m'a touchée, mais je ne suis pas sûre qu'elle continue de m'habiter. Il m'a été très difficile de m'attacher aux personnages, mais je ne suis pas sûre que ce soit le but recherché par Giono.

Cependant, pour tout ce qui concerne la relation de l'homme à la nature, et à ce qui le dépasse et lui est supérieur, ce livre est un bijou. L'évocation de la nature est chargée de sensualité, tout est traité avec une attention exacerbée.

Lecture mitigée mais plutôt positive malgré tout.

[Daniel Polansky]

Weird. Frightening. The countryside of rural Italy, in retaliation for the infinite sins done to nature by humankind, decides to destroy a small community of farmers. Giono has a talent for reframing the prosaic or lyrical aspects of nature in uncanny and horrifying prose, and the portrait of the farmers is savage and true-seeming. Did I find this an uncomfortable allegory for the horrors of climate change (though to be clear it was written a century ago)? Yes, I did. Keep.

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Hill" is a cautionary tale about humanity's exploitation of nature. We harm it, it shows us who is really the boss but we never learn. "Hill" is a spectacle of nature anthropomorphism, and is one of the best of it's kind. It might be too poetic or unusual for some, but it's definitely affective and relevant more than ever.

[Alan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ahh nature

[Berit · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wauw. Dit boek is als een gedicht en nachtmerrie in één: prachtig, huiveringwekkend, ongrijpbaar. Ik heb nog nooit zoiets gelezen. Het enige waar het me een beetje aan deed denken is De grote angst in de bergen van de eveneens Franse schrijver Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz. Toevallig zijn de twee boeken (dat van Giono en dat van Ramuz) ook slechts twee jaar na elkaar verschenen. Het zijn twee heel verschillende verhalen, maar de overlap zit in de sfeer: beide verhalen spelen zich af in kleine, afgelegen bergdorpen op het Franse platteland, waarbij er langzaam iets begint te broeien. Heel onheilspellend, maar ook heel mooi.

Giono schrijft heel poëtisch: alles leeft. Neem de volgende passages, die meer regel dan uitzondering zijn:

"Het is de ochtend van de tweede dag. Geen wind, en nog steeds stilte. Een brede krans van viooltjes rust op het smetteloze voorhoofd van de lucht. De zon rijst door de nevel als een granaatappel" (49).

Of:

"Het uur bloeit als een aprilweide" (130).

Zo mooi.

Ik heb dit boek uit de bibliotheek gehaald en in één ruk uitgelezen. Heel knap dat het vooral sfeer is die het verhaal voortstuwt: er is niet bijster veel plot, maar toch wilde ik niet stoppen met lezen. Ik zou haast willen dat mijn Frans goed genoeg was om het in de oorspronkelijke taal te lezen; zo mooi is het. Het schijnt onderdeel van een trilogie te zijn, dus hopelijk wordt de rest ook vertaald...maar eerst moet ik dit verhaal nog laten bezinken. Wat een tour de force.

[Boti Xuebar · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 : j'ai mis du temps à rentrer dans ce livre, puis j'ai alterné entre d'excellents moments et des moments de fortes incompréhensions. Il faut s'accrocher sur certains mots dont le sens nous échappe. La poésie c'est beau, mais je préfère quand elle est dosée. Le style de Giono est un peu trop poétique à mon goût. Ça n'engage que moi.

[Lune · Rating 5 out of 5]

Toujours aussi sublime.

[Salomé]

La prose de Giono est si belle !