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Vingt minutes de silence
« Hélène Bessette flingue le vieux monde sans faire de quartier. » France Musique Villa cossue du bord de la Manche. Un homme est mort à l’issue d’une randonnée en auto, d’une balle de son propre revolver, qu’il tenait des Allemands. Dans cette famille, le père a un coffre-fort, une clé anglaise, une bougie, et une bonne qui s’appelle Rose. Le fils a une balançoire, un jeu de croquet, un loden, une auto.
Dans cette famille, certains lisent des romans policiers pour s’endormir (le père), d’autres au lieu de dormir (le fils), d’autres dans la solitude des femmes mal mariées (la mère). Vingt minutes de silence , c’est le temps qu’il a fallu à la famille pour prévenir le médecin après la mort de leur mari et père. Hélène Bessette (1918-2000) a publié treize romans chez Gallimard entre 1953 et 1973. Considérée comme l’une des pionnières du « roman poétique », elle a remporté le prix Cazes en 1954 et, à deux reprises, figuré sur les listes Goncourt et Médicis.
Dans cette famille, certains lisent des romans policiers pour s’endormir (le père), d’autres au lieu de dormir (le fils), d’autres dans la solitude des femmes mal mariées (la mère). Vingt minutes de silence , c’est le temps qu’il a fallu à la famille pour prévenir le médecin après la mort de leur mari et père. Hélène Bessette (1918-2000) a publié treize romans chez Gallimard entre 1953 et 1973. Considérée comme l’une des pionnières du « roman poétique », elle a remporté le prix Cazes en 1954 et, à deux reprises, figuré sur les listes Goncourt et Médicis.
160 pages, Pocket Book
First published February 25, 1955
About the author
Hélène Bessette
23 books30 followersHélène Bessette est née « obscurément » à Levallois, faubourg de Paris, le 31 août 1918. Lorsqu’un journaliste lui demande pourquoi « obscurément », elle répond : « Parce que ce terme me plaît, et que les détails ne regardent personne ». Elle peut être considérée comme l’une des pionnières du Nouveau roman.
C’est après un voyage en Nouvelle-Calédonie où elle est partie trois ans avec son mari pasteur qu’elle se met à écrire. Elle n’a que trente-cinq ans quand Raymond Queneau la rencontre le jeudi 4 décembre 1952 dans les bureaux du 5, rue Sébastien Bottin, et lui fait signer un contrat qui l’engage chez Gallimard pour dix livres à venir. « Enfin du nouveau ! », s’exclame-t-il, soucieux de faire connaître celle qu’il considère comme un écrivain majeur du XXe siècle.
Hélène Bessette publie treize romans chez Gallimard, et en écrit encore beaucoup qui ne seront jamais publiés. Un des romans publiés, Les Petites Lilshart, qui est une version remaniée des Petites Lecocq, est retiré des ventes en 1956 après un procès pour outrage aux bonnes mœurs et diffamation. Aussi une pièce de théâtre. Le tout en seulement vingt ans, de 1953 à 1973. Elle obtient le prix Cazes de la brasserie Lipp pour son premier roman, Lili pleure, en 1954, et ses autres romans sont régulièrement retenus sur les listes du prix Goncourt.
Elle est institutrice, à Roubaix, à Saint-Prest et à Saint-Georges-sur-Eure, mais démissionne en 1962 pour se consacrer à l’écriture. Longtemps soutenue et admirée par des écrivains comme Marguerite Duras, Nathalie Sarraute, Simone de Beauvoir ou Dominique Aury, et par les critiques Alain Bosquet et Claude Mauriac, elle reste injustement méconnue. Son dernier roman, Ida ou le délire, est publié en 1973.
Elle meurt trente ans plus tard, dans l’indifférence générale, le 10 octobre 2000, au Mans.
C’est après un voyage en Nouvelle-Calédonie où elle est partie trois ans avec son mari pasteur qu’elle se met à écrire. Elle n’a que trente-cinq ans quand Raymond Queneau la rencontre le jeudi 4 décembre 1952 dans les bureaux du 5, rue Sébastien Bottin, et lui fait signer un contrat qui l’engage chez Gallimard pour dix livres à venir. « Enfin du nouveau ! », s’exclame-t-il, soucieux de faire connaître celle qu’il considère comme un écrivain majeur du XXe siècle.
Hélène Bessette publie treize romans chez Gallimard, et en écrit encore beaucoup qui ne seront jamais publiés. Un des romans publiés, Les Petites Lilshart, qui est une version remaniée des Petites Lecocq, est retiré des ventes en 1956 après un procès pour outrage aux bonnes mœurs et diffamation. Aussi une pièce de théâtre. Le tout en seulement vingt ans, de 1953 à 1973. Elle obtient le prix Cazes de la brasserie Lipp pour son premier roman, Lili pleure, en 1954, et ses autres romans sont régulièrement retenus sur les listes du prix Goncourt.
Elle est institutrice, à Roubaix, à Saint-Prest et à Saint-Georges-sur-Eure, mais démissionne en 1962 pour se consacrer à l’écriture. Longtemps soutenue et admirée par des écrivains comme Marguerite Duras, Nathalie Sarraute, Simone de Beauvoir ou Dominique Aury, et par les critiques Alain Bosquet et Claude Mauriac, elle reste injustement méconnue. Son dernier roman, Ida ou le délire, est publié en 1973.
Elle meurt trente ans plus tard, dans l’indifférence générale, le 10 octobre 2000, au Mans.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews
August 20, 2026
Helene Bessette’s poetic novel is a “speech-collage-turned-philosophical-investigation of crime and punishment…which resolutely ignore(s) norms of grammar…plot, character…”.
-Afterword by Kathryn Scanlan
“The victim is alive,
The culprit is dead…
The victim is the culprit.
The culprit is the victim.”
“The revolver was in the car.
The revolver was not in the car.
It was hidden behind the books in the library
The revolver was in the cupboard.”
Did a fifteen year old boy murder his papa? Perhaps the mother did it. The maid offered contradictory dialogue. Were wires cut during the purported home invasion? Was the power turned off at three o’clock in the morning? Why did twenty minutes of silence ensue before the doctor living next door was summoned?
First impressions suggest that happy family life would descend into chaos. Were they a happy family? The husband, a Nazi collaborator during WWII, had amassed his current wealth of “a hundred mill” in the bank. Both husband and wife had scores of lovers, the result of an unsatisfying marriage. No expense was spared for the child, all material desires provided. What was not delivered was love. Papa was hands-on however, in an over the top, punitive way.
In twenty minutes of silence, the crime scene clean -up included the disposal of the weapon. Why did the child throw the gun into the neighbor’s yard? Furniture was overturned, drawers were open indicative of a break-in, wires were cut and electricity turned off. Upon interrogation, the stories of the mother, child and maid did not jive. Did the mother plan a murder to be carried out by the son?
Assuming that the 15 year old child committed murder, he was jailed. After eight days of confinement, he confessed to the murder. He retracted his confession. Truth or lie? Did he take the fall for his mother? A child might bear less responsibility for the death of his papa who was considered to be “a brute, everyone said so at the inquest.”
“Twenty Minutes of Silence” written in 1955, finally will get its rightful exposure through the wonderful translation from French by Kate Briggs. The poetic novel will arguably find its target audience as many experimental writing styles are currently in vogue. The crime is revealed in a circuitous, repetitive, and contradictory way. It is filled with accusation, testimony and speculation. Each protagonist will speak their truth (or lie). Papa has been murdered, of this there is no doubt. The facts are subject to manipulation and conjecture, the aftermath of the crime, orchestrated within twenty minutes of silence. A unique reading experience.
Thank you W.W. Norton & Company/New Directions and Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
-Afterword by Kathryn Scanlan
“The victim is alive,
The culprit is dead…
The victim is the culprit.
The culprit is the victim.”
“The revolver was in the car.
The revolver was not in the car.
It was hidden behind the books in the library
The revolver was in the cupboard.”
Did a fifteen year old boy murder his papa? Perhaps the mother did it. The maid offered contradictory dialogue. Were wires cut during the purported home invasion? Was the power turned off at three o’clock in the morning? Why did twenty minutes of silence ensue before the doctor living next door was summoned?
First impressions suggest that happy family life would descend into chaos. Were they a happy family? The husband, a Nazi collaborator during WWII, had amassed his current wealth of “a hundred mill” in the bank. Both husband and wife had scores of lovers, the result of an unsatisfying marriage. No expense was spared for the child, all material desires provided. What was not delivered was love. Papa was hands-on however, in an over the top, punitive way.
In twenty minutes of silence, the crime scene clean -up included the disposal of the weapon. Why did the child throw the gun into the neighbor’s yard? Furniture was overturned, drawers were open indicative of a break-in, wires were cut and electricity turned off. Upon interrogation, the stories of the mother, child and maid did not jive. Did the mother plan a murder to be carried out by the son?
Assuming that the 15 year old child committed murder, he was jailed. After eight days of confinement, he confessed to the murder. He retracted his confession. Truth or lie? Did he take the fall for his mother? A child might bear less responsibility for the death of his papa who was considered to be “a brute, everyone said so at the inquest.”
“Twenty Minutes of Silence” written in 1955, finally will get its rightful exposure through the wonderful translation from French by Kate Briggs. The poetic novel will arguably find its target audience as many experimental writing styles are currently in vogue. The crime is revealed in a circuitous, repetitive, and contradictory way. It is filled with accusation, testimony and speculation. Each protagonist will speak their truth (or lie). Papa has been murdered, of this there is no doubt. The facts are subject to manipulation and conjecture, the aftermath of the crime, orchestrated within twenty minutes of silence. A unique reading experience.
Thank you W.W. Norton & Company/New Directions and Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
September 29, 2026
Prepare for uncertainty and speculation while reading TWENTY MINUTES OF SILENCE, an imaginative creation that fuses words, rhythm and pace to explore the serpentine machinations of a crime.This experimental piece of writing predates Ntozake Shange’s FOR COLORED GIRLS by twenty years. In her play, Shange fused poetic monologues accompanied by dance movements and music on the stage.She called her play a choreopoem and in my opinion it is the spiritual descendent of Bessette’s work. Bessette described her work as a poetic novel .It is told in a hybrid of choral and poetic form with overtones of musical cadences while eschewing the norms of grammar and plot development.
The facts of the novel’s crime are shrouded in uncertainty. It is known that an affluent family lives on an estate near the English Channel. The family’s father has been shot and killed.The fifteen year old son was home. The mother was home. The maid was home.Twenty minutes went by before the doctor who lived next door was called. It seems probable that the son shot the father. But did he?
The only certainty is that the father was shot dead. The rest of the elements of the crime are gradually introduced and then constantly rearranged in kaleidoscopic patterns as a chorus of voices discuss and reshuffle the facts creating a crescendo of hypothesis and confusion.
“ All the lights were off.
No they weren’t, shouts the maid named Rose Hollyhock.
Then she retracts her statement.
The child had his shoes on.
At three o’clock in the morning, it is unusual for a child to be wearing his shoes.
The mother and Rose Hollyhock were both fully dressed.
At three o’clock in the morning people don’t tend to be fully dressed.
The mother came out onto the landing where she saw the chase.
The mother was asleep and therefore did not see the chase…”
This passage illustrates the polyphonic tone of speculative voices that form a chorus and add an element of cacophony to the discussion. The reader is never sure who is talking and can not assess the reliability of any information that is imparted.There are confessions, retractions and conflicting accounts. Multiple perspectives come to the fore and then recede.The story swirls with moments of silence and riffs of suspicion.
Bessette called her creation a poetic novel.Yet as I worked my way through the novel, I began to hear strains of a fifties bebop jazz quintet or sextet. The narrative structure of Besette’s novel mirrors bebop jazz which is characterized by fast tempo,rapid chord changes, changes in key and improvisation. Each voice in the group would take a basic theme or melody and create an offshoot deviating from the original melody before returning to the basic structure.The effect is racy, fragmented and often breathtaking. Besette’s poetic novel created a similar effect for me.I left the novel with the voices of Miles, Coltrane and Rollins ringing in my ears as I concluded a unique experience.
The facts of the novel’s crime are shrouded in uncertainty. It is known that an affluent family lives on an estate near the English Channel. The family’s father has been shot and killed.The fifteen year old son was home. The mother was home. The maid was home.Twenty minutes went by before the doctor who lived next door was called. It seems probable that the son shot the father. But did he?
The only certainty is that the father was shot dead. The rest of the elements of the crime are gradually introduced and then constantly rearranged in kaleidoscopic patterns as a chorus of voices discuss and reshuffle the facts creating a crescendo of hypothesis and confusion.
“ All the lights were off.
No they weren’t, shouts the maid named Rose Hollyhock.
Then she retracts her statement.
The child had his shoes on.
At three o’clock in the morning, it is unusual for a child to be wearing his shoes.
The mother and Rose Hollyhock were both fully dressed.
At three o’clock in the morning people don’t tend to be fully dressed.
The mother came out onto the landing where she saw the chase.
The mother was asleep and therefore did not see the chase…”
This passage illustrates the polyphonic tone of speculative voices that form a chorus and add an element of cacophony to the discussion. The reader is never sure who is talking and can not assess the reliability of any information that is imparted.There are confessions, retractions and conflicting accounts. Multiple perspectives come to the fore and then recede.The story swirls with moments of silence and riffs of suspicion.
Bessette called her creation a poetic novel.Yet as I worked my way through the novel, I began to hear strains of a fifties bebop jazz quintet or sextet. The narrative structure of Besette’s novel mirrors bebop jazz which is characterized by fast tempo,rapid chord changes, changes in key and improvisation. Each voice in the group would take a basic theme or melody and create an offshoot deviating from the original melody before returning to the basic structure.The effect is racy, fragmented and often breathtaking. Besette’s poetic novel created a similar effect for me.I left the novel with the voices of Miles, Coltrane and Rollins ringing in my ears as I concluded a unique experience.
July 16, 2026
Taking photographs and being photographed.
The dead man is a dead man with a feel for photography.
It's the only sense he's got left.
A friend and former coworker recommended this, describing it as if Bolaño wrote a whodunnit. I can see a vague resemblance, a certain relentless pulse which is the clock ticking during that titular period, which is the heartbeat of those involved, those accused, those waiting for the story, those wincing under a deadline.
There’s a corpse. A weapon has been fired. Certain other details may not have happened. The police conduct a search while the reader conducts a taxonomy of a criminal act and the queasy sequences of one reacts after such commission.
The narrative whittles down to a single column of 3-6 words the emphasis is forward, only a conclusion and then when such appears matters broadened, softened into a colorful billow. Is there room in this exercise for truth? We reach something answering to the name in the final pages. I'm not sure if I was satisfied as I wasn't exactly curious by that point.
3.3 stars
The dead man is a dead man with a feel for photography.
It's the only sense he's got left.
A friend and former coworker recommended this, describing it as if Bolaño wrote a whodunnit. I can see a vague resemblance, a certain relentless pulse which is the clock ticking during that titular period, which is the heartbeat of those involved, those accused, those waiting for the story, those wincing under a deadline.
There’s a corpse. A weapon has been fired. Certain other details may not have happened. The police conduct a search while the reader conducts a taxonomy of a criminal act and the queasy sequences of one reacts after such commission.
The narrative whittles down to a single column of 3-6 words the emphasis is forward, only a conclusion and then when such appears matters broadened, softened into a colorful billow. Is there room in this exercise for truth? We reach something answering to the name in the final pages. I'm not sure if I was satisfied as I wasn't exactly curious by that point.
3.3 stars
July 10, 2026
Someone is crying.
But no, this time it's not Lili.
A woman cries and we don't know who,
we don't know why.
And thus opens Bessette's latest novel,
written in her signature style.
poetic
fragmented
chorus-like
For whose words are these?
Whose thoughts are these?
But Bessette does not trouble over such trivial details,
and nor should the reader.
Because what we're really here to discuss is a crime,
A MURDER
A child who has killed his father.
Or was it a mother who has killed her husband?
One thing is certain (nothing is certain),
a man was killed with a gun.
Speculations abound,
the entire novel acting as speculation,
a circuitous
cacophonous
emphatic
affair.
Yet
It's a novel of silence.
Has silence ever been so loud?
Yet it's a crime novel.
But no, nothing like a crime novel.
A crime novel de-con-struct-ed,
its elements thrown in a blender
stripped of nonessentials.
Or
A crime novel dis-sect-ed.
Form is but a playground,
no rules
no grammatical limitations
narrative constraints be damned
And is the style effective as in Lili is Crying?
(perhaps not quite)
(perhaps a bit less so)
But one nevertheless admires,
wants,
needs,
such self-assured literature.
Fiction that takes the chance,
That says,
--Take me or leave me, I will NOT conform
And perhaps the people
left it,
Left the work from this mind they can't understand,
to gather dust
to be forgotten
to join the collective of authors deemed "ahead of their time"
UNTIL
A brilliant mind residing in the body of Kate Briggs pulls Bessette and her poetry,
her "poetic novels",
from the abyss.'
Rescuing them from a lifetime of obscurity,
Working the magic that only translators can,
Adding her voice to the chorus,
Balancing rhythm
syntax
semantics
While keeping playfulness at the core.
But no, this time it's not Lili.
A woman cries and we don't know who,
we don't know why.
And thus opens Bessette's latest novel,
written in her signature style.
poetic
fragmented
chorus-like
For whose words are these?
Whose thoughts are these?
But Bessette does not trouble over such trivial details,
and nor should the reader.
Because what we're really here to discuss is a crime,
A MURDER
A child who has killed his father.
Or was it a mother who has killed her husband?
One thing is certain (nothing is certain),
a man was killed with a gun.
Speculations abound,
the entire novel acting as speculation,
a circuitous
cacophonous
emphatic
affair.
Yet
It's a novel of silence.
Has silence ever been so loud?
Yet it's a crime novel.
But no, nothing like a crime novel.
A crime novel de-con-struct-ed,
its elements thrown in a blender
stripped of nonessentials.
Or
A crime novel dis-sect-ed.
Form is but a playground,
no rules
no grammatical limitations
narrative constraints be damned
And is the style effective as in Lili is Crying?
(perhaps not quite)
(perhaps a bit less so)
But one nevertheless admires,
wants,
needs,
such self-assured literature.
Fiction that takes the chance,
That says,
--Take me or leave me, I will NOT conform
And perhaps the people
left it,
Left the work from this mind they can't understand,
to gather dust
to be forgotten
to join the collective of authors deemed "ahead of their time"
UNTIL
A brilliant mind residing in the body of Kate Briggs pulls Bessette and her poetry,
her "poetic novels",
from the abyss.'
Rescuing them from a lifetime of obscurity,
Working the magic that only translators can,
Adding her voice to the chorus,
Balancing rhythm
syntax
semantics
While keeping playfulness at the core.
August 13, 2026
Twenty Minutes of Silence
A highly creative work where a murder mystery is narrated in the form of a Jigsaw puzzle
A husband/father is murdered by his own pistol & the prime suspects are the wife, son & the maid (Rose)
The novel draws its name from the twenty minutes of delay between the actual time of murder & the time it was reported
The motives & contradictory accounts of accused completes the premise
A very experimental narrative that captivates your attention all through the storyline & reminds a lot of Ali Smith's writing
The Translator's note is one of the best I have ever read & provides a great insight into Bessette's writing
Highly recommend
A highly creative work where a murder mystery is narrated in the form of a Jigsaw puzzle
A husband/father is murdered by his own pistol & the prime suspects are the wife, son & the maid (Rose)
The novel draws its name from the twenty minutes of delay between the actual time of murder & the time it was reported
The motives & contradictory accounts of accused completes the premise
A very experimental narrative that captivates your attention all through the storyline & reminds a lot of Ali Smith's writing
The Translator's note is one of the best I have ever read & provides a great insight into Bessette's writing
Highly recommend
June 27, 2026
just so innovative, with non-traditional prose that truly turns a mystery into such a puzzle!! if you like experimental works that prioritize the reflective without linear plotting but instead challenging structure… READ THIS!!
definitely a top pick of the year. grateful for Briggs’ absolutely brilliant translation.
(read this nearly in one-sitting, just couldn’t get enough!)
*
The photographs were good. It's a proper profession, photography.
A profession of the first order. Think of all the things that photographers photograph.
It's extraordinary.
Nowadays more than ever.
Taking photographs and being photographed.
The dead man is a dead man with a feel for photography.
It's the only sense he's got left.
(115)
definitely a top pick of the year. grateful for Briggs’ absolutely brilliant translation.
(read this nearly in one-sitting, just couldn’t get enough!)
*
The photographs were good. It's a proper profession, photography.
A profession of the first order. Think of all the things that photographers photograph.
It's extraordinary.
Nowadays more than ever.
Taking photographs and being photographed.
The dead man is a dead man with a feel for photography.
It's the only sense he's got left.
(115)
October 14, 2026
Дуже експериментально
May 22, 2026
I went in doubtful - after all it’s a long poem about a murder. But wow I was very quickly hooked and read it in one sitting. Brilliantly executed and haunting. I’m very happy this is translated into English.
June 18, 2026
A long modernist poem that also acts as a deconstruction of the crime novel may sound pretentious, but it is actually remarkably fun and playful and full of dark humour. Something unusual, refreshing, and definitely worth a read!
July 17, 2026
Loved this fairly unknown "Nouveau roman" from Bessette.
February 4, 2026
LNB7 m’a laissé mes yeux pour pleurer et deux heures de télétravail à rattraper tellement il est impossible de lâcher ce livre
November 25, 2020
Bessette es una escritora inteligente, sensorial y punzante. La lectura se disfruta, atrapa y sacude. Huele la sangre, luego la hiela. Literatura viva.
October 2, 2026
Overall Average: 4.42/5
Writing & Structure: 5/5
Relationships & Characters: 4/5
Impact & Resonance: 4.5/5
Growth, Plot & Themes: 4/5
Hook, Pacing & Engagement: 4.75/5
Tone, Setting & Atmosphere: 4.25/5
I don’t even know how to review Twenty Minutes of Silence by Hélène Bessette because what I loved most was how it was told. At Villa Monique, a wealthy family’s estate near the English Channel, a father is shot dead with his own gun. His wife, abused teenage son, and maid are at the center of a mystery built around the twenty minutes that pass before the doctor next door is alerted. That premise hooked me, but the writing made this such a unique experience. Learning it was first published in 1955 only deepened my appreciation.
I absolutely loved Bessette’s “prosetry.” The fragments, white space, and hypnotic repetition gave the writing an almost jazz-like rhythm and reminded me of the unsettling poetic storytelling in Robert Frost’s “Out, Out—.” Overlapping voices and contradictory perspectives continually reshape what we think we know, while sharp humor and parenthetical asides expose uncomfortable truths about wealth, marriage, and childhood powerlessness. Every shift feels like someone moving a candle: something new becomes visible, but plenty remains in darkness.
Anyone looking for a neatly solved whodunit should adjust their expectations. Bessette challenges the certainty of guilt and justice, leaving us to consider what this death means for a family living under an abusive patriarch. I could summarize the plot in a sentence, but that wouldn’t capture the rhythm, irony, or inventiveness that kept me engaged. The storytelling was the experience, and I ate it up.
Writing & Structure: 5/5
Relationships & Characters: 4/5
Impact & Resonance: 4.5/5
Growth, Plot & Themes: 4/5
Hook, Pacing & Engagement: 4.75/5
Tone, Setting & Atmosphere: 4.25/5
I don’t even know how to review Twenty Minutes of Silence by Hélène Bessette because what I loved most was how it was told. At Villa Monique, a wealthy family’s estate near the English Channel, a father is shot dead with his own gun. His wife, abused teenage son, and maid are at the center of a mystery built around the twenty minutes that pass before the doctor next door is alerted. That premise hooked me, but the writing made this such a unique experience. Learning it was first published in 1955 only deepened my appreciation.
I absolutely loved Bessette’s “prosetry.” The fragments, white space, and hypnotic repetition gave the writing an almost jazz-like rhythm and reminded me of the unsettling poetic storytelling in Robert Frost’s “Out, Out—.” Overlapping voices and contradictory perspectives continually reshape what we think we know, while sharp humor and parenthetical asides expose uncomfortable truths about wealth, marriage, and childhood powerlessness. Every shift feels like someone moving a candle: something new becomes visible, but plenty remains in darkness.
Anyone looking for a neatly solved whodunit should adjust their expectations. Bessette challenges the certainty of guilt and justice, leaving us to consider what this death means for a family living under an abusive patriarch. I could summarize the plot in a sentence, but that wouldn’t capture the rhythm, irony, or inventiveness that kept me engaged. The storytelling was the experience, and I ate it up.
January 10, 2021
Una madre, un hijo, una criada, un padre asesinado. ¿Quién lo mató? ¿El hijo, la madre? ¿O son ellos en realidad los muertos? ¿Qué sucedió durante los veinte minutos que tardaron en dar el aviso? Toda una serie de interrogantes los que Hélène Bessette nos plantea con su personal estilo. La francesa escribe de modo telegráfico, repitiendo frases y palabras, dotándolas de esta forma de un especial protagonismo y consiguiendo que corten como una navaja cuyo filo puedes sentir penetrando tu piel.
Podría decir que Veinte minutos de silencio es una novela negra, acaso un thriller con un supuesto caso de parricidio. No estaría equivocado, pero también debería añadir que es mucho más que eso. A Bessette le interesa diseccionar la mente del criminal, el fondo y los motivos de sus actos, todo aquello que los que se dedican solo a opinar prefieren obviar, no vaya a ser que encuentren motivos que generen dudas en su, ya hecha de antemano, sentencia final. Y es que un crimen siempre debe ser una atrocidad, no caben resquicios...
Mi primer contacto con Bessette y me ha sacudido. Ahora quiero más, necesito más. ¿Qué más puedo decir? En todo caso que no deberían perdérsela.
Podría decir que Veinte minutos de silencio es una novela negra, acaso un thriller con un supuesto caso de parricidio. No estaría equivocado, pero también debería añadir que es mucho más que eso. A Bessette le interesa diseccionar la mente del criminal, el fondo y los motivos de sus actos, todo aquello que los que se dedican solo a opinar prefieren obviar, no vaya a ser que encuentren motivos que generen dudas en su, ya hecha de antemano, sentencia final. Y es que un crimen siempre debe ser una atrocidad, no caben resquicios...
Mi primer contacto con Bessette y me ha sacudido. Ahora quiero más, necesito más. ¿Qué más puedo decir? En todo caso que no deberían perdérsela.
"La gente que no asesina no puede entender a aquellos que asesinan, así como la gente de la Cruz Azul nunca entenderá a los borrachos, así como la gente decente nunca entenderá a los obsesos del bajo vientre. Al no entender gritan: horror y castigo, sin hablar de las injurias, los insultos, las groserías y las condenas.
La vida es tan distinta entre estas castas como lo es entre los paralíticos y no paralíticos.
No hay manera de entenderse."
July 13, 2026
I’m pretty speechless after breathlessly reading this 1955 deconstructed crime novel in one go. Haters of Oulipo may want to stay away. I thought it was brilliant.
August 31, 2026
End of Euro summer (I read 10 books set in Europe)
December 27, 2020
Conocí a Hélène Bessette con Ida. Me asombró muchísimo y me gustó más. Con su estilo tan distinto, tan diferente y tan especial.
No supe calificarla y sigo sin saber. No sé si es una novela poética o es poesía pura pero me da igual, me encanta como escribe y lo que escribe. Escribe telegraficamente, escribe de forma repetitiva, escribe poniendo una sola palabra en mayúsculas en medio de una línea blanca. Escribe como Hélène Bessette y me encanta aunque he de decir que este estilo me costó al principio porque solo en ella lo he visto pero me dejo llevar y lo disfruto enormemente.
"Veinte minutos de silencio" podría ser solo un thriller. Un hombre fue asesinado, esto es lo que su esposa, su hijo de 14 años y Malva Rosa nos dicen. Pero entre el descubrimiento del cuerpo y la llamada a la policía, pasan veinte minutos. ¿Qué hicieron durante esos veinte minutos? ¿Qué se dijeron?
Las sospechas recaen en el hijo que acaba confesando pero actuó sólo, está manipulado por su madre, protege.... Dudas.
Hélène nos provoca, nos sacude y nos maravilla hasta el final.
No supe calificarla y sigo sin saber. No sé si es una novela poética o es poesía pura pero me da igual, me encanta como escribe y lo que escribe. Escribe telegraficamente, escribe de forma repetitiva, escribe poniendo una sola palabra en mayúsculas en medio de una línea blanca. Escribe como Hélène Bessette y me encanta aunque he de decir que este estilo me costó al principio porque solo en ella lo he visto pero me dejo llevar y lo disfruto enormemente.
"Veinte minutos de silencio" podría ser solo un thriller. Un hombre fue asesinado, esto es lo que su esposa, su hijo de 14 años y Malva Rosa nos dicen. Pero entre el descubrimiento del cuerpo y la llamada a la policía, pasan veinte minutos. ¿Qué hicieron durante esos veinte minutos? ¿Qué se dijeron?
Las sospechas recaen en el hijo que acaba confesando pero actuó sólo, está manipulado por su madre, protege.... Dudas.
Hélène nos provoca, nos sacude y nos maravilla hasta el final.
August 24, 2026
This is a cool, innovative style for a murder mystery.
June 16, 2021
Veinte minutos de silencio. ¿Son muchos o pocos?¿Muchos, para qué? ¿Pocos, para qué? Lo único claro es que hay un muerto y veinte minutos son los que quienes convivían con este han tardado en dar el aviso.
¿Quién es el criminal? ¿Es la mujer, el hijo, la criada o el propio muerto? ¿y si el muerto fuera el criminal? Hélène Bessette analiza en esta novela corta editada por editorialdosmanos las complejas dinámicas de una familia con el fin de entender un crimen. Un analisis que podría generar dudas en nuestras sentencias, porque ¿es el que mata siempre es el criminal?
Veinte minutos de silencio habla de errores, de culpas, de lo que parece pero no es. De lo rápidos que somos judgando y la potestad que creemos tener para ello. Es una crítica a la respetabilidad que concedemos a la clase burguesa por el mero hecho de serlo y al asumido supuesto de que por tener un hijo puedes llamarte Padre o Madre...
Y todo ello "adornado" con una ¿prosa poética?, ¿prosa hablada? que eleva el ritmo de este relato de forma que te resulte imposible encontrar una pausa lógica en la que dejar a un lado esta lectura.
Toda una sorpresa.
¿Quién es el criminal? ¿Es la mujer, el hijo, la criada o el propio muerto? ¿y si el muerto fuera el criminal? Hélène Bessette analiza en esta novela corta editada por editorialdosmanos las complejas dinámicas de una familia con el fin de entender un crimen. Un analisis que podría generar dudas en nuestras sentencias, porque ¿es el que mata siempre es el criminal?
Veinte minutos de silencio habla de errores, de culpas, de lo que parece pero no es. De lo rápidos que somos judgando y la potestad que creemos tener para ello. Es una crítica a la respetabilidad que concedemos a la clase burguesa por el mero hecho de serlo y al asumido supuesto de que por tener un hijo puedes llamarte Padre o Madre...
Y todo ello "adornado" con una ¿prosa poética?, ¿prosa hablada? que eleva el ritmo de este relato de forma que te resulte imposible encontrar una pausa lógica en la que dejar a un lado esta lectura.
Toda una sorpresa.
February 21, 2021
Hoy os traigo una novela especial y muy distinta a lo que estoy acostumbrada a leer, y es que "Veinte minutos de silencio" es una novela escrita de una manera telegráfica, poética, en la cual hay un crimen, un padre es asesinado. Podría ser una novela negra, donde el misterio está en saber quién es el asesino; la madre, el hijo o la criada y sobretodo, qué sucedió entre esos veinte minutos en los que el padre es asesinado y se llama a la policía, qué hicieron los protagonistas esos veintes minutos?.
Tengo que decir que al principio me costó, no la entendía muy bien, pues lo mismo decía una cosa, como en la frase siguiente decía la contraria.
Después te vas habituando a su lectura y empiezas a vislumbrar el transfondo del asesinato, los sentimientos de los personajes, el por qué de sus actos y entonces la empiezas a disfrutar.
Me ha gustado, es entretenida, se lee rápido y me ha parecido muy original. La edición es preciosa, muy cuidada y una delicia a la vista.
Si os gustan las novelas distintas y originales, os la recomiendo.
Tengo que decir que al principio me costó, no la entendía muy bien, pues lo mismo decía una cosa, como en la frase siguiente decía la contraria.
Después te vas habituando a su lectura y empiezas a vislumbrar el transfondo del asesinato, los sentimientos de los personajes, el por qué de sus actos y entonces la empiezas a disfrutar.
Me ha gustado, es entretenida, se lee rápido y me ha parecido muy original. La edición es preciosa, muy cuidada y una delicia a la vista.
Si os gustan las novelas distintas y originales, os la recomiendo.
August 21, 2026
Twenty Minutes of Silence
“You’re not crying?
No, naturally, you’re not crying.
All this is beyond your understanding, you’re just a child.
It’s an intensely strange and interesting subject.
And,
he accepts it.
The acceptance of the weak.
Those who know there’s nothing they can do about it. NOTHING.
NOTHING.
There’s nothing to be done.”
Extraordinary book; I enjoyed the read very much. Can be read in one day or even one sitting.
This is the story of the twenty minutes after a murder, written in verse. The suspect is either the mother, the son, or an intruder. What actually happened — and the inner thinking of everyone involved — is revealed in beautiful poetic fragments over the course of the story.
What a great entry point to Bessette’s work. One other book of hers is available in English translation, with a third in the works. I hope to read them all.
“You’re not crying?
No, naturally, you’re not crying.
All this is beyond your understanding, you’re just a child.
It’s an intensely strange and interesting subject.
And,
he accepts it.
The acceptance of the weak.
Those who know there’s nothing they can do about it. NOTHING.
NOTHING.
There’s nothing to be done.”
Extraordinary book; I enjoyed the read very much. Can be read in one day or even one sitting.
This is the story of the twenty minutes after a murder, written in verse. The suspect is either the mother, the son, or an intruder. What actually happened — and the inner thinking of everyone involved — is revealed in beautiful poetic fragments over the course of the story.
What a great entry point to Bessette’s work. One other book of hers is available in English translation, with a third in the works. I hope to read them all.
Read
August 21, 2026 After all, to live is to track a path through the labyrinth of lies and truths. If everything were true and if everything were false, there’d be no point in continuing. But because truth tangles with falsehood, I’ll go on.
Did Not Finish
July 25, 2026Thesaurus was maxxed out after she wrote this one, the woman never met a list of synonyms she wouldn’t include to meet that word count
August 3, 2026
3,5 ⭐️
a hundred fifty pages long poem about a murder nobody knows committed - i really enjoyed the experimental writing style and i loved the playing of narrative
at some point i got lost in the sauce tho
a hundred fifty pages long poem about a murder nobody knows committed - i really enjoyed the experimental writing style and i loved the playing of narrative
at some point i got lost in the sauce tho
August 3, 2026
Magnificent!
August 24, 2026
First time reading a “poetic novel” and it was surprisingly really gripping and thought-provoking! As a lover of detective shows it was fun to read something deconstructing it all
July 19, 2026
I have mixed feelings about it. While the writing is very unique and the subject matter is quite relevant too, the story did tend to repeat itself at times making it a bit difficult to comprehend the author's intent. A 3.5 stars in my opinion.
August 8, 2021
Un padre asesinado. Un niño. Una madre. Un revolver. Veinte minutos de silencio que lo cambian todo. ¿Quien es el culpable? ¿El niño? ¿La madre? ¿El propio padre? Esta novela de Hélène Bessette y editada por @editorialdosmanos no tiene nada de convencional. Lo que de primeras puede parecer un thriller, desde las primeras páginas te das cuenta de que es algo muy distinto, de que es mucho más. El asesinato es la excusa de la autora para preguntarse(nos) cosas sobre las relaciones familiares y las familias desestructuradas, sobre las infidelidades, sobre padres que no quieren a sus hijos y cómo estos hijos llegan a comprender que no son queridos por sus padres.
La escritura poética de Bessette me sorprendió, y reconozco que al principio hizo que me costase un poco entrar en la historia, pero enseguida sentí que me engullía en su ráfaga de interrogantes, de palabras repetidas y de reflexiones inesperadas. Porque al final el asesinato es lo de menos, y lo que engancha es todo lo que le rodea, los porqués, esos que vienen de años atrás y que no se fraguan de la noche a la mañana.
Me gustaría decir mucho más, pero empezaría a destripar cosas del libro que prefiero que descubráis por vosotrxs mismxs. Solo puedo decir que es la primera vez que leo a Hélène Bessette, pero no será la última, porque tiene algo que atrapa. Leerla ha sido una auténtica experiencia.
La escritura poética de Bessette me sorprendió, y reconozco que al principio hizo que me costase un poco entrar en la historia, pero enseguida sentí que me engullía en su ráfaga de interrogantes, de palabras repetidas y de reflexiones inesperadas. Porque al final el asesinato es lo de menos, y lo que engancha es todo lo que le rodea, los porqués, esos que vienen de años atrás y que no se fraguan de la noche a la mañana.
Me gustaría decir mucho más, pero empezaría a destripar cosas del libro que prefiero que descubráis por vosotrxs mismxs. Solo puedo decir que es la primera vez que leo a Hélène Bessette, pero no será la última, porque tiene algo que atrapa. Leerla ha sido una auténtica experiencia.
September 26, 2026
This book.
This book that seems less interested
in telling a story than
in breaking one apart.
It stretches.
It stitches.
It accumulates.
It disperses—
into gestures, repetitions, fragments, absences.
A consciousness speaking from inside itself,
oscilating between, orbiting around
what cannot quite be said.
It is something claustrophobic.
Something intimate.
Something deliberately unresolved.
I loved the strange rhythm of it.
The immersive feel of thought
becoming language,
becoming noise,
becoming silence again.
At times, I was completely absorbed.
At times, I felt held at a distance by the very
fragmentation that made the work
compelling.
But perhaps that is the point.
Not everything wants to be understood.
Some things want to be endured.
Twenty Minutes of Silence can be an eternity when you are waiting for something to finally
break.
This book that seems less interested
in telling a story than
in breaking one apart.
It stretches.
It stitches.
It accumulates.
It disperses—
into gestures, repetitions, fragments, absences.
A consciousness speaking from inside itself,
oscilating between, orbiting around
what cannot quite be said.
It is something claustrophobic.
Something intimate.
Something deliberately unresolved.
I loved the strange rhythm of it.
The immersive feel of thought
becoming language,
becoming noise,
becoming silence again.
At times, I was completely absorbed.
At times, I felt held at a distance by the very
fragmentation that made the work
compelling.
But perhaps that is the point.
Not everything wants to be understood.
Some things want to be endured.
Twenty Minutes of Silence can be an eternity when you are waiting for something to finally
break.
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