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Le coeur est un muscle involontaire
Pourquoi d'ailleurs inventer des histoires, se demande Florence, la narratrice du roman de Monique Proulx, Le coeur est un muscle involontaire.
Florence est internaute et bâtit des sites Web pour des professionnels arides ultrasecs, des notaires spécialisés en testaments (…) et est allergique à l'arrogance pesante des livres. Par le plus grand des hasards – cher aux créateurs –, la mort de son père la mettra en présence d'un magicien des mots, un écrivain clandestin qui ressemble beaucoup à Réjean Ducharme, le célèbre auteur de L'Avalée des avalés et de L'Hiver de force.
Monique Proulx ne cache pas qu'elle a voulu s'acquitter d'une dette vis-à-vis de cet immense écrivain qui, à son adolescence, lui a ouvert les portes de l'imaginaire. Mais son roman est aussi le parcours initiatique d'une fille d'aujourd'hui, désinvolte, désabusée amoureusement désenchantée, sans cesse sur la défensive. L'oeil au laser de Monique Proulx débusque le ridicule des êtres et des situations, mais la tendresse n'est jamais bien loin derrière l'humour acidulé. Elle choisit les mots, les malaxe, les aligne pour fabriquer une histoire collée à la vie.
Monique Proulx est romancière, nouvelliste et scénariste. Son roman Homme invisible à la fenêtre a récolté une moisson de prix en 1993 avant d'être adapté au cinéma par Jean Beaudin sous le titre Souvenirs intimes. --Monique Roy
408 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 2002
4 people are currently reading
347 people want to read
About the author
Monique Proulx
30 books28 followersMonique Proulx is a French-Canadian writer who has achieved considerable literary recognition, both in Canada and abroad. Her first novel, Sans Coeur et sans reproche, won the Adrienne Choquette literary award, and some of her other novels have won her awards such as the Signet d’Or de Plaisir de Lire, le Prix des Libraires du Québec, the Prix Littéraire Desjardins and the Prix Québec-Paris. She has twice been short-listed for the Governor General’s Award for Fiction in French, and was also short-listed for the 2004 CBC “Canada Reads” competition.
Proulx was born in Quebec City on January 17th, 1952. She earned a degree in literature and theatre from the Université Laval, and has taught French and theatre. She took time off in 1980 to work on her first novel, and by 1984 she had moved to Montreal. A highlight in Proulx’ career was to be invited by ARALD (Agence Rhône-Alpes pour le livre et la documentation) to visit France in 1995. She attended ARALD meetings and conferences alongside four other writers from Quebec, and her work has become well known in France as a result.
Many of Proulx’ works have been translated into English, and her novel Le Sexe des étoiles (1993) – Sex of the Stars (1996) – was also adapted into a film directed by Paule Baillargeon. The novel and film are a modern depiction of gender and identity issues, and tell the story of Camille, a young girl whose transgendered, and absent, father is now a woman. The novel explores what it is that makes up human and sexual identity, as well as themes of loneliness and the desire for acceptance. Her work Les Aurores montréales (1996) is a compilation of short stories which describe the lifestyle and culture of Montreal. The stories are written from various perspectives, including those of children, couples, immigrants and the homeless, exploring linguistic and social issues in post-referendum Montreal. The collection of stories in Champagne (2008), translated into English as Wildlives (2009), introduces a new theme to her writing. Set in the Laurentian mountains now threatened by development, the interconnected stories form Proulx’ tribute to nature, and explore human relationships with the wild. Her writing style tends to contrast strong emotions of sadness with humour, and to explore boundaries and moments of transition. Her work has been published in over a dozen countries.
Proulx was born in Quebec City on January 17th, 1952. She earned a degree in literature and theatre from the Université Laval, and has taught French and theatre. She took time off in 1980 to work on her first novel, and by 1984 she had moved to Montreal. A highlight in Proulx’ career was to be invited by ARALD (Agence Rhône-Alpes pour le livre et la documentation) to visit France in 1995. She attended ARALD meetings and conferences alongside four other writers from Quebec, and her work has become well known in France as a result.
Many of Proulx’ works have been translated into English, and her novel Le Sexe des étoiles (1993) – Sex of the Stars (1996) – was also adapted into a film directed by Paule Baillargeon. The novel and film are a modern depiction of gender and identity issues, and tell the story of Camille, a young girl whose transgendered, and absent, father is now a woman. The novel explores what it is that makes up human and sexual identity, as well as themes of loneliness and the desire for acceptance. Her work Les Aurores montréales (1996) is a compilation of short stories which describe the lifestyle and culture of Montreal. The stories are written from various perspectives, including those of children, couples, immigrants and the homeless, exploring linguistic and social issues in post-referendum Montreal. The collection of stories in Champagne (2008), translated into English as Wildlives (2009), introduces a new theme to her writing. Set in the Laurentian mountains now threatened by development, the interconnected stories form Proulx’ tribute to nature, and explore human relationships with the wild. Her writing style tends to contrast strong emotions of sadness with humour, and to explore boundaries and moments of transition. Her work has been published in over a dozen countries.
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
April 29, 2009
I picked this up as a quick between-tomes read, but found myself enjoying it so much I wanted to slow down to make it last. At the plot level, this is a story about two web designers on the trail of a reclusive bestselling novelist (it sounds ho-hum, I know), but as with all the best books this one easily transcends "what happens." This is a book about how, not what, and the crystalline detail of each small revelation are far more moving than the plot itself. I found myself savoring the descriptions, the characters, and above all the writing. Nearly every page carries a gem of a phrase, thanks both to the writer and to the translators (David Homel and Fred A. Reed). The Anglophone literascape is certainly enriched for having this French import.
January 17, 2023
Why invent stories in the first place? Isn't real life full enough of outlandish events that...distract us from the tasks at hand...?P159
Once you figure it out, that it's all in your head, all the dreams, all the love; once you know that everything is created in the huge, high voltage workshop of our minds, you're saved. You just stop the thing before it gets started. Turn off the fantasy machine before it gets out of control. P17
I picked it up, opened it, dove into it. I would read all of it at top speed, without skipping a word. The sooner the book swallowed me up, the sooner nothing else could. P52
Can it be that sometimes we get so lost in that liminal space, to the extent that when we emerge our memory of the experience, so vivid in some ways, is blurred as to details. Luckily I have 4 pages of notes to testify that I was paying attention; but what was it about?
Presenting the story in schematic form explains nothing because the plot is no more than a brass plate upon which to serve the main course, and the main course is wild emotions carried along by the words themselves. How can words on paper be transformed into heat and violence? P157
I wanted the thing hidden inside this nondescript envelope. I wanted the diamond at the heart of the stone. P188
MP is a spellcaster and no doubt this book would be even more magnificent en francais.
It seemed like so little, but it was everything. In the end, it's all we ever really need. To face whatever it may be, we need nothing more than the occasional illusion that our life means something to someone who knows nothing about us. P129
Open a truly dangerous book and you cannot easily close it again.p55
Once you figure it out, that it's all in your head, all the dreams, all the love; once you know that everything is created in the huge, high voltage workshop of our minds, you're saved. You just stop the thing before it gets started. Turn off the fantasy machine before it gets out of control. P17
I picked it up, opened it, dove into it. I would read all of it at top speed, without skipping a word. The sooner the book swallowed me up, the sooner nothing else could. P52
Can it be that sometimes we get so lost in that liminal space, to the extent that when we emerge our memory of the experience, so vivid in some ways, is blurred as to details. Luckily I have 4 pages of notes to testify that I was paying attention; but what was it about?
Presenting the story in schematic form explains nothing because the plot is no more than a brass plate upon which to serve the main course, and the main course is wild emotions carried along by the words themselves. How can words on paper be transformed into heat and violence? P157
I wanted the thing hidden inside this nondescript envelope. I wanted the diamond at the heart of the stone. P188
MP is a spellcaster and no doubt this book would be even more magnificent en francais.
It seemed like so little, but it was everything. In the end, it's all we ever really need. To face whatever it may be, we need nothing more than the occasional illusion that our life means something to someone who knows nothing about us. P129
Open a truly dangerous book and you cannot easily close it again.p55
March 28, 2012
This was an excruciatingly painful book to read. I hated it so much that I was monitoring every 10 pages and would reward myself with an alternative activity when I got through them. It is as though this author sat around and attempted to figure out how to put together a collection of words that would impress her most self-important writer friends and to hell with the general population that may require meaning in a book.
Plenty of people loved it, so obviously I just didn't get it at all. This is the worst read so far this year.
Plenty of people loved it, so obviously I just didn't get it at all. This is the worst read so far this year.
Read
July 27, 2011Tout m'agace. Je n'ai pas aimé du tout. Ni le style, ni le récit, ni l'allusion omniprésente à Ducharme. Il n'y a rien de crédible dans cette "histoire" qui n'est pourtant pas du roman fantastique.... La fille qui est en relation depuis 100 ans avec un mec sans savoir que sa mère est autochtone et que son père est italien. Tout est foireux.
August 22, 2020
What a curious book, and what a curious impression it left on me, full of conflict and admiration both. Proulx’s characters are all seriously flawed and frustrate you throughout. Her writing (originally in French but apparently brilliantly preserved in translation into English), is brilliant, quirky, maybe occasionally too clever.
I thought when I read it in 2020 it was for the second time. Apart from the evocative title a very powerful scene had stayed with me for ten years since I ‘read’ it the first time: the visit to New York and being immersed in Rembrandt’s self-portrait at the Frick Museum of Art.
The protagonist in the novel, Florence, is a graphic designer/web-meister, a quirky maladjusted character, hugely representative of even current day millennials in high tech though the book is circa 2003. She reminded me very much of the woman I was having a fantasy affair with at the time. I was on assignment in Trinidad and Tobago and I was convinced I had entirely consumed this novel, eager to find out what would happen to Florence, and what would happen to my own protégé.
But when I came to reread this book ten years later I was at first swept back to the time I first read it, but as I passed the Frick scene the rest of the book seemed completely new to me. How could I have forgotten the evolving relationship between Florence and the elusive author Pierre Laliberté? the love-hate relationship between Florence and her juvenile quirky boss and sometime partner and lover? And most disconcerting her rejection of a golden retriever puppy? Even as I picked up the book to ‘reread’ it I realized I had no idea how it had ended. It seems pretty apparent now I had put the book aside in Tobago and did not pick it up again for ten years.
But, ten years later, I brought a whole different life view to the book. I am now an author myself and Florence’s sharp criticisms of authors and the writing process takes on all new meaning (and evidently Proulx’s self-loathing of her own profession is evident).
I sought out an e-book version of the book but it doesn’t exist. Pity, because an e-book allows you to share the highlighted passages for others. And there are many. This book has to stay on my shelves for many more years, so I can pick it up and re-read those clever insightful highlighted passages.
I thought when I read it in 2020 it was for the second time. Apart from the evocative title a very powerful scene had stayed with me for ten years since I ‘read’ it the first time: the visit to New York and being immersed in Rembrandt’s self-portrait at the Frick Museum of Art.
The protagonist in the novel, Florence, is a graphic designer/web-meister, a quirky maladjusted character, hugely representative of even current day millennials in high tech though the book is circa 2003. She reminded me very much of the woman I was having a fantasy affair with at the time. I was on assignment in Trinidad and Tobago and I was convinced I had entirely consumed this novel, eager to find out what would happen to Florence, and what would happen to my own protégé.
But when I came to reread this book ten years later I was at first swept back to the time I first read it, but as I passed the Frick scene the rest of the book seemed completely new to me. How could I have forgotten the evolving relationship between Florence and the elusive author Pierre Laliberté? the love-hate relationship between Florence and her juvenile quirky boss and sometime partner and lover? And most disconcerting her rejection of a golden retriever puppy? Even as I picked up the book to ‘reread’ it I realized I had no idea how it had ended. It seems pretty apparent now I had put the book aside in Tobago and did not pick it up again for ten years.
But, ten years later, I brought a whole different life view to the book. I am now an author myself and Florence’s sharp criticisms of authors and the writing process takes on all new meaning (and evidently Proulx’s self-loathing of her own profession is evident).
I sought out an e-book version of the book but it doesn’t exist. Pity, because an e-book allows you to share the highlighted passages for others. And there are many. This book has to stay on my shelves for many more years, so I can pick it up and re-read those clever insightful highlighted passages.
June 16, 2023
A complex and twisting novel, almost more of an anti-novel in some respects, this tale will surely set the reader thinking about the relationship between author and text, between text and reader, and between author and reader. There are two main storylines, the first being the love/hate relationship between Florence, a writer of sorts and an employee of the other half of the relationship, Zeno, who owns the internet business they are building together. The second has to do with Zeno's obsession with the mysterious novelist who writes under the non de plume of Pierre Laliberte, but whose identity is unknown. There is a third plot twist that connects the title of the novel to the writings of Laliberte, and that is the death of Florence's father, a sort of sub-theme that submerges and resurfaces at various points in the novel. I found this to be an enjoyable read overall, in no small part because of the rich humor that is inserted almost constantly, especially when it comes to Florence and Zeno's relationship and sometimes partnership. I did think there were a few too many plot twists, and I found none of the characters especially endearing except for Florence's dog Outhouse (nee Jeep). In particular, it was not at all clear to me that Florence's decision to "start over" in the way in which she does was as deeply connected to what preceded as I would have liked, perhaps because her relationship to her deceased father is dealt with somewhat superficially compared to the other two afore-mentioned relationships that are given pride of place.
January 29, 2021
Décevant, en général. Seul le dernier chapitre, et encore, en valait la peine.
Tout de même agréable à lire.
Tout de même agréable à lire.
October 22, 2021
C'est avec beaucoup d'intensité que les personnages abordent la vie et les relations sont spéciales et plutôt tortueuses. L'écriture est riche et profondément touchante.
July 19, 2023
Really really didn't like this book. I couldn't see any point to the story so I gave up after 170 pages.
August 11, 2011
Florence is a Web designer whose only other passion apart from drifting into the online ether is Zeno, the owner of the small Web design firm for which she works, and her on-again, off-again lover. Even the presumably most important and most passionate relationship in her life is intermittent at best. But it's through the Web design business, which specializes in developing online presence for obscure or underappreciated writers and artists, that Florence finally discovers a subject worth abiding focus, interest and yes, passion. As she becomes entangled with a Thomas Pynchon-esque writer and his wife, Florence begins to confront the life she has lived thus far and assesses why she has not really invested in anyone or anything to that point.
"The Heart is an Involuntary Muscle" bogs down ever-so-slightly about midway, but the murkiness is more likely a reflection of Florence's inarticulate bewilderment at the new feelings welling up as she becomes more enmeshed with the enigmatic writer than any shortcomings in Proulx's (and her translators') precision of expression. Overall, the book is very intriguing and insightful in terms of creating some rich, albeit sometimes frustrating but therefore authentic, characters. Surprisingly, the book's plot grows increasingly suspenseful as Florence's involvement with the writer and his wife, and her perhaps on-again relationship with Zeno reach interesting crescendos. The book also offers some intriguing asides about people and their personae and relationships or lack thereof as interactions are conducted online, which sit in striking and instructive contrast to the fumbling interactions of the characters in real life.
Take a look at my longer review here: http://bookgaga.posterous.com/the-hea...
"The Heart is an Involuntary Muscle" bogs down ever-so-slightly about midway, but the murkiness is more likely a reflection of Florence's inarticulate bewilderment at the new feelings welling up as she becomes more enmeshed with the enigmatic writer than any shortcomings in Proulx's (and her translators') precision of expression. Overall, the book is very intriguing and insightful in terms of creating some rich, albeit sometimes frustrating but therefore authentic, characters. Surprisingly, the book's plot grows increasingly suspenseful as Florence's involvement with the writer and his wife, and her perhaps on-again relationship with Zeno reach interesting crescendos. The book also offers some intriguing asides about people and their personae and relationships or lack thereof as interactions are conducted online, which sit in striking and instructive contrast to the fumbling interactions of the characters in real life.
Take a look at my longer review here: http://bookgaga.posterous.com/the-hea...
August 14, 2011
"Gina da Silva was a writer. Writers write. They build walls of words to shut out the clamor. Each word sends up shovelfuls of earth until the windows of ordinary life are covered over. And on they write, they burrow deep into words, they tunnel into their words until each one gives up its inviolable secret depth, sometimes pain, other times trance, it depends on their temperament, or their astrological sign. In those lonely, dark depths they lay out their imagination and begin polishing their creation.
That's how those 300-page books of theirs come to be.
That's how writers forget that there are people out there waiting at the other end of the tunnel. People willing to read their books, but who still hunger and thirst, who are afraid of dying without having known love. To those people, hungry for normal life, writers have nothing new to give, not a drop of water, not a brotherly embrace, nothing but words, the beautiful and frigid words of their subterranean domain."
That's how those 300-page books of theirs come to be.
That's how writers forget that there are people out there waiting at the other end of the tunnel. People willing to read their books, but who still hunger and thirst, who are afraid of dying without having known love. To those people, hungry for normal life, writers have nothing new to give, not a drop of water, not a brotherly embrace, nothing but words, the beautiful and frigid words of their subterranean domain."
September 17, 2009
I rate this novel 3 Stars. It was originally published in French and I read the English translation.
I wanted more from this book. It was an awkward read for me ~ parts of it were terrific and parts were really not so great; I was eager to read, then working to read. The lack of consistency was a big frustration. The story and main character were both interesting and had so much potential but the plot had this odd arc off into a funny realm that didn't work for me. I am glad to have read it as I think Proulx used an intriguing writing strategy, but I am wondering what was lost in translation?
I wanted more from this book. It was an awkward read for me ~ parts of it were terrific and parts were really not so great; I was eager to read, then working to read. The lack of consistency was a big frustration. The story and main character were both interesting and had so much potential but the plot had this odd arc off into a funny realm that didn't work for me. I am glad to have read it as I think Proulx used an intriguing writing strategy, but I am wondering what was lost in translation?
November 18, 2014
This book is about a heroine protagonist who has made a cult of Quebec's famously reclusive author Rejean Ducharme in a way that some make a cult of J.D. Salinger. As I am rather indifferent to both Ducharme and Salinger, I have no interest in the plight of those who idolize them. Perhaps if you had personal experience admiring a person more than was reasonable, you will be able to connect with this protoganist.
June 24, 2016
"High hope fallen short"
I had a bit of high hope when I started flipping to page one of this novel - stemmed from both the feel of the writing and the reputation of the author. Love the language, at times incisive and lyrical; whilst being so close to grasp the untouchable, it had fallen short in giving enough substance. A nice read - thought I have found something that could charm me enough, before realizing that I had expected more.
I had a bit of high hope when I started flipping to page one of this novel - stemmed from both the feel of the writing and the reputation of the author. Love the language, at times incisive and lyrical; whilst being so close to grasp the untouchable, it had fallen short in giving enough substance. A nice read - thought I have found something that could charm me enough, before realizing that I had expected more.
February 7, 2017
Had a really hard time getting into this book, nearly threw it away but I am so glad I stuck it out, very good.
Read
September 8, 2016what did I just read?
Florence is a web designer, the novel opens with her father's death in the hospital. She is subsequently drawn into the stalking of a famously reclusive author by her obsessed business/romantic partner. Everything/everyone is odd, but I felt sympathetic to her tortured, confused interior voice.
Florence is a web designer, the novel opens with her father's death in the hospital. She is subsequently drawn into the stalking of a famously reclusive author by her obsessed business/romantic partner. Everything/everyone is odd, but I felt sympathetic to her tortured, confused interior voice.
January 17, 2011
This novel has been sitting on my shelf for a few years, and I am so glad I picked it up. It's a charming, witty novel about writers and being human, and how to see things in new ways. It was a contender for the Canada Reads contest.
March 2, 2009
In a close caption, I have been introduced to mentality of the new woman of our time ( and her sheer power of imagination)...
December 15, 2008
This is a strange book about books and creative people with great characters.
October 13, 2009
The story didn't grab my interest. I might give it a try sometime in the future. Perhaps I didn't read this one at the right time.
November 1, 2009
Featured on Canada Reads 2004.
November 19, 2010
Not all of it is amazing but the parts that are surely are. Plus, the book pretty well overtook me and I read it one sitting. That's gotta mean something.
Read
June 22, 2014Did not finish - bad
August 7, 2015
This book kept me ruminating over the nature of truth and knowing, and also how to know what we want most of all. The Bishop's syndrome...
July 25, 2012
2 words. Frog orgasms.
Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews