Georges Chave, né à Ivry-sur-Seine le jour de la bataille d'Okinawa, domicilié à Paris dans le 11e arrondissement. Vit de peu. Meuble son existence d'une activité de bars, de cinémas, de voyages en banlieue, de sommeils imprévus, d'aventures provisoires. Écoute souvent des disques américains ; l'un de ces disques lui manque, une version rare de Cherokee, qu'on lui a dérobé il y a dix ans. Tout cela n'est rien, mais il s'en contente jusqu'à ce que Véronique surgisse dans sa vie. Dès lors Georges s'agite un peu.
Jean Echenoz is a prominent French novelist, many of whose works have been translated into English, among them Chopin’s Move (1989), Big Blondes (1995), and most recently Ravel (2008) and Running (2009).
refashioning the detective narrative into something more art-y evidently is such a tempting strategy perhaps it's a trap. note the murder puzzles of echenoz's house-mate at les editions de minuit, robbe-grillet. or robert coover's recent deconstruction of noir or pynchon's neon vices or lethem's genre mashups or haruki murakami's career-long channeling of chandler... even bolaño wants to be a homicide cop in his next life... that ongoing and probably easily extended list suggests there's not only something fashionable about this trope-slumming but that the mystery narrative is somehow deeply fundamental to the novel form. its searcher protagonists and elusive, ineffable obscure objects of desire might arguably be the nucleobases of the novel's DNA.
reading three echenoz in a row -- BIG BLONDES, I AM GONE, and CHEROKEE -- made that thought pop again to mind as echenoz displays an intimate and scientific knowledge of the genre's workings. he also does something that feels unique with it, stripping almost everything out -- certainly as much interiority as he can -- and leaving only plot. not that these are zippy momentum-gathering page turners -- rather they're drôle collages of event where a thousand peculiar items are glued together with comedic and/or convenient coincidence. cubist mysteries of fractured planes, they're fun reads with, when the pieces come together at the end, an almost guaranteed mild let-down (maybe even a purposeful, subversive one). oddly addictive.
Ako keď si pustíte film, v ktorom je dej tak trochu o ničom, no vizuál vám vyrazí dych. Ak máte radi slovné hračky, jazyk, ktorý ožíva pred očami tak lepšieho autora budete zrejme len veľmi ťažko hľadať. Príjemná, i keď jazykovo veľmi hutná kniha, ktorá otestuje vašu pozornosť a vyžaduje od čitateľa istú mieru koncentrácie, keďže pochytať všetky tie jedinečne bizarné slovné a vetné konštrukcie bolo miestami ozaj vyčerpávajúce.
Gotta say, I really don't understand. If this book is supposed to lead me anywhere, I missed it. In any case, it's simply written (though oddly so) and features enigmatic characters and a funky plot. So for an odd read with no, or little, gold at the end of the rainbow, read this! (Perhaps it's a poorly translated rough draft.)
No és que no m'hagi agradat però l'he trobat força enrevessat i per moments (bastant) se m'ha fet difícil de seguir l'argument. Això sí, és bastant possible que aquesta mateixa fos la intenció de l'autor. I el to i l'estil d'Echenoz també hi són. Però l'he gaudit menys que els altres.
Impossible de finir, pourtant je me faisais une joie de découvrir l'écriture de Jean Echenoz. Dense, dense, dense, sans aucun but. L'action est impossible à suivre, les personnages sans contour, pourtant innondés de descriptions, mais rien d'accroche. Pas ma tasse de thé.
Et encore si je pouvais mettre aucune étoile je le ferais, étant donné que je veux même pas le finir. Je déteste la manière dont s’est écrit, l’écriture est trop dense et ne mène à rien. J’ai l’impression qu’Echenoz aime perdre le lecteur avec ses descriptions et ses dialogues loufoques. BAH ÇA MARCHE JE NE ROUVRIRAIS PLUS JAMAIS CETTE MERDE
Echenoz is unique, exceptional and a delight, every single time. Readers looking for an Agatha Christie-like thing are looking for the wrong thing; Chandler-lovers the same. THe genre is not the book, and here Echenoz (as he did in other novels) has fun with the detective genre but this is not a thriller - nor does it matter whether the plot is clear or not, whether you get it or not. Remember the Maltese Falcon? Who cares about the plot?! His style, his voice, his thoughts, his epigrammes: unique, world-class.
labored to finish it. a pastiche of noir with no blood, not even very humorous. thought of besson's subway when reading the description on back and in terms of having a lot of random silly things occur in a cat and mouse plot it did that but this guy doesn't have anything on that either. second french "noir" that's disappointed me. i will try despentes next.
The strongly visual descriptive language and sketched characters and plot definitely seemed like it could have been an arty detective movie. I enjoyed it for the writing and atmosphere.
One of my favorites, turned me on to this incredible author. I love the writing style and the whole crime/mystery plot—pages were flying. Hope to re-read it soon.
Biraz takip etmesi zor bir kitap, ama gitgide karmaşıklaşan konunun ilginç olduğunu söyleyebilirim, bu biraz akıcılığı buharlaştırıyor, aslında 3 ile 4 arasında bir değer düşünmüştüm ama…
Jean Echenoz scrive una guida di stile sul romanzo poliziesco, una meta-scrittura affascinante, affabulatrice e che, miracolosamente, senza curarsi della trama, si tiene in piedi.
I have just read the original French version of this book (which I cannot find on Goodreads). I enjoyed it very much. It came over as something of a spoof of Raymond Chandler's style - all the scenes are described in amusing detail and the story moves breathlessly from one to the next. The plot is hard to follow since it is always understated but that adds the entertainment. I enjoyed it.