Lille Bijou

by Patrick Modiano, Lone Bjelke (Translator), Arild Batzer (Editor)

Den knap 19-årige Thérèse ser en kvinde i gul frakke på en metroperron. Kvinden ligner hendes mor, som hun ellers har fået at vide var død i Marokko da Thérèse var en lille pige. Thérèse begynder uset at følge efter kvinden i den gule frakke, og det sætter gang i en desperat søgen i fjerne erindringer efter en forklaring på hvorfor hun er efterladt uden familie og venner, og tilsyneladende uden muligheder forat skabe et godt liv for sig selv.

Undervejs i sin søgen møder Thérèse oversætteren Moreau-Badmaev der behersker tyve sprog, og som bruger nætterne på at lytte til fjerne radioprogrammer i det beroligende grønne lys fra radioen. Hun møder også en apoteker, der tager sig af hende da det hele begynder at ramle.

Lille Bijou er en smuk, stilfærdig og gribende roman der udspiller sig i Modianos helt særlige drømmeagtige univers, hvor virkelighed og erindringer væves sammen til ét.

Genres: Fiction, France, Nobel Prize, French Literature, Literature, Literary Fiction, Book Club

155 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2001

About the author

Patrick Modiano is a French-language author and playwright and winner of the 2014 Nobel Prize in Literature.

He is a winner of the 1972 Grand prix du roman de l'Académie française, and the 1978 Prix Goncourt for his novel "Rue des boutiques obscures".

Modiano's parents met in occupied Paris during World War II and began a clandestine relationship. Modiano's childhood took place in a unique atmosphere: with an absent father -- of which he heard troubled stories of dealings with the Vichy regime -- and a Flemish-actress mother who frequently toured. His younger brother's sudden death also greatly influenced his writings.

While he was at Henri-IV lycee, he took geometry lessons from writer Raymond Queneau, who was a friend of Modiano's mother. He entered the Sorbonne, but did not complete his studies.

Queneau, the author of "Zazie dans le métro", introduced Modiano to the literary world via a cocktail party given by publishing house Éditions Gallimard. Modiano published his first novel, "La Place de l’Étoile", with Gallimard in 1968, after having read the manuscript to Raymond Queneau. Starting that year, he did nothing but write.

On September 12, 1970, Modiano married Dominique Zerhfuss. "I have a catastrophic souvenir of the day of our marriage. It rained. A real nightmare. Our groomsmen were Queneau, who had mentored Patrick since his adolescence, and Malraux, a friend of my father. They started to argue about Dubuffet, and it was like we were watching a tennis match! That said, it would have been funny to have some photos, but the only person who had a camera forgot to bring a roll of film. There is only one photo remaining of us, from behind and under an umbrella!" (Interview with Elle, 6 October 2003). From their marriage came two girls, Zina (1974) and Marie (1978).

Modiano has mentioned on Oct 9, 2014, during an interview with La Grande Librairie, that one of the books which had a great impact on his writing life was 'Le cœur est un chasseur solitaire' (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter), the first novel published by Carson McCullers in 1940.

(Arabic: باتريك موديانو)

Reviews

[Valeriu Gherghel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nu de mult, mi-am zis că nu e OK să ignor (deliberat) un prozator de Nobel. Nu te poți numi om citit dacă îți urmezi antipatiile și nu te constrîngi la durerea de a citi ceva care nu-ți place. De mult aveam un dinte în contra lui Patrick Modiano. În 2014, cînd a primit premiul Nobel, Philip Roth mai trăia. Nu e un motiv foarte serios, recunosc. Dar mai am unul.

Cînd Patrick Modiano a luat premiul, toți prietenii mei s-au / m-au întrebat cine e. Am făcut o căutare și am constatat că fusese tradus masiv în română, începînd cu 1975: opt cărți. Cu toate acestea, nimeni nu auzise de el. Iar dacă auzise, uitase. Ciudat!

Așadar, de curînd am ales prin tragere la sorți un roman de Modiano, iar sorții au decis, cu puterea imperativă a Providenței, să fie Micuța Bijou. O sută și ceva de pagini, aproape o povestire, nu-ți ia mult. Dacă ai învățat speed reading, o parcurgi în 13 minute. Eu mă pricep doar la slow reading și am citit-o în două zile. Romanul are o intrigă simplă. Thérèse Carderes, 19 ani, suferă de ceea ce francezii numesc „mal de vivre”, dificultatea de a trăi. Are crize de anxietate, gînduri suicidare și o mare obsesie legată de mama ei, care a părăsit-o, cu ani în urmă, fără nici o explicație, lăsînd-o în grija unei anume Frederique. Thérèse se întreabă: Mai trăiește oare? De ce nu s-a întors din Maroc? De ce nu i-a mai dat nici un semn?

„Mi se spusese că murise demult, în Maroc, şi nu încercasem niciodată să aflu mai mult”.

Într-o zi, întîlnește în metrou o femeie într-un mantou galben uzat și o urmărește compulsiv. Femeia nu-i dă nici un semn de atenție (pare o stafie); Thérèse n-are îndrăzneala să-i vorbească. Femeia seamănă frapant cu mama ei sau, mai bine, cu portretul pe care i l-a lăsat. Întîlnirea o zdruncină și mai mult pe Thérèse. Insomnia și stările de anxietate o strivesc. Din fericire, într-o seară intră într-o farmacie, iar femeia cu ochii verzi de după tejghea se vădește a fi o întruchipare a „bunului samarinean”.

Deși scris de un profesionist, micul roman mi s-a părut, mai degrabă, o proză didactică, edificatoare. Sugestia e că oricît de rău te-ai simți, nu trebuie să-ți pierzi speranța, oamenii sînt buni și miloși. La capătul bulevardului există întotdeauna o farmacie cu ferestrele luminate. Analiza psihologică e grăbită. Nici un personaj nu este conturat suficient, nici Micuța Bijou, nici femeia cu mantoul galben, nimeni. Romanul nu m-a convins. Nu-i nimic. Patrick Modiano a scris destul. Mi-am propus să mai citesc unul. Se intitulează Orizontul. (6.12.21, l).

[Robin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A deliciously foggy dreamscape of a book.

This was my first experience reading Modiano, French author and the 2014 winner of the Nobel Prize for literature. I could tell at once I was reading a master - a writer who can create an atmosphere that draws the reader in with ease.

The book is about Thérèse, a young woman in Paris, who is often wandering, lost in the tangle of her memories and thoughts, lost in the past. In fact, she is barely present in the world, is almost slipping completely away from it. You wonder if she is reliable as a narrator, because she slides between reality and hazy thoughts so fluidly.

One day she sees a woman who she thinks might be her mother, and follows her. We learn that she lived a largely neglected life with her morphine-addicted and failed-dancer of a mother. Was she abandoned? Is her mother dead? Who is the woman in the yellow coat?

This was a unique and beautiful book for me. It does not employ a traditional plot, but rather a watery and blurry collection of memories and impressions, belonging to a girl who we hope one day will rise to the surface, and breathe fresh air.

A free copy of this book was given to me via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, Yale University Press!

[ατζινάβωτο φέγι. · Rating 4 out of 5]

''Το χαμένο πράγμα δε θα ξαναβρεθεί ποτέ''

''Το προάστιο της ζωής δεν προσφέρει κατα κανόνα στους κατοίκους του τις ευκολίες στις οποίες είναι συνηθισμένοι αυτοί που μένουν στο κέντρο των μεγάλων πόλεων''

''Έτσι θα προσπαθήσουμε να δούμε πιο καθαρά''

''Για τελευταία φορά, ήθελα να μαζέψω κάποιες ισχνές αναμνήσεις, να ξαναβρώ τα ίχνη της παιδικής μου ηλικίας, σαν το ταξιδιώτη που θα φυλάει στην τσέπη του ως το τέλος μια παλιά ληγμένη ταυτότητα''

Ένας συγκροτημένος, εσωτερικός εφιάλτης μιας νεαρής κοπέλας η οποία προσπαθεί να ανασυνθέσει την μνήμη της και να ξαναβρεί την ταυτότητα της μέσα απο σπαράγματα και αφορμές της πραγματικής της ζωής. Έχει εγκαταλειφθεί απο την μητέρα της όταν ήταν ακόμη πολύ μικρή. Η ζωή της έχει βασιστεί σε πολλα, μικρά ψέμματα και ένα βράδυ το παρελθόν θα γυρίσει οταν θα δεί έκείνο το κίτρινο παλτό που θα την βυθίσει σε μια ατέρμονη αναζήτηση που αδυνατεί να την μοιραστεί με τα άτομα που περνάνε απο την ζωή της. Την κατακλύζει όμως και την απορροφά.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Το συμπέρασμα: μην κάνετε παιδιά αν δεν τα θέλετε... ή μάλλον: βρείτε τα πρώτα με τον εαυτό σας και μετά αναπαραχθείτε...
Μου αρέσει πολύ αυτή η "μελαγχολία" του έργου του Modiano γιατί είναι βαθιά ψυχοθεραπευτική... μόνο εμένα μου θυμίζει Μουρακάμι και στυλ μόνος-μέσα-σε-ένα-πλήθος-κόσμου;

[Richard Derus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Real Rating: 4.25* of five, rounded up in respect and admiration if not quite love

The Publisher Says: A mesmerizing novel by Nobel Laureate Patrick Modiano, now superbly translated for English-language readers

For long standing admirers of Modiano’s luminous writing as well as those readers encountering his work for the first time, Little Jewel will be an exciting discovery. Uniquely told by a young female narrator, Little Jewel is the story of a young woman adrift in Paris, imprisoned in an imperfectly remembered past. The city itself is a major character in Modiano’s work, and timeless moral ambiguities of the post-Occupation years remain hauntingly unresolved.

One day in the corridors of the metro, nineteen-year-old Thérèse glimpses a woman in a yellow coat. Could this be the mother who long ago abandoned her? Is she still alive? Desperate for answers to questions that have tormented her since childhood, Thérèse pursues the mysterious figure on a quest through the streets of Paris. In classic Modiano style, this novel explores the elusive nature of memory, the unyielding power of the past, and the deep human need for identity and connection.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: I understand that many Modiano fanciers find this to be a slight, even a negligible, entry into his oeuvre. I am, of course, required to bow to their expertise since I do not have it. I will say, though, that if this is a slight entry into Author Modiano's catalog, the Nobel committee slept on this award by leaving it unawarded until 2014.

Thérèse, in common with most of us whose mothers weren't all that motherly, sees and feels the present with intensity and immediacy that our better-grounded peers seem to lack. It's a hypervigilance, an awareness of things that aren't always notable or even noticeable to others.

Thérèse's mother abandoned her for that most selfish of reasons, addiction, and so Thérèse can never really find her mother in her memories. We, listening to Thérèse, don't know what images among the blurry watercolors inside her head are real. Is her mother dead? Did she abandon Thérèse in that absolute and final way? Thérèse doesn't seem to know, so we don't know.

But that's the nature of the child of loss: We don't know what, if any, of our memories are valid, externally valid that is, and that is all we've come to trust. Validation must come from outside when your life has consisted of things you simply can't control, can't even influence...they just Happen, from the outside. So that is where Reality lies.

And lie she does, does Reality.

That is the genius of this work. It's not the usual third person exploration of the Idea of Identity, the Scenes of Paris, that Modiano is so very very good at. Thérèse is telling us about the grey, grim Paris of her life. Thérèse is putting herself in the frame deliberately, and that is unique. To Modiano, whose work is always at a very French remove from the immediacy of American novels. To Thérèse, whose marginal life is never even the center of her own thoughts...that position belongs to her mother. (That there is a father is self-evident, but one it never treated to a thought centering him. He exists only because The Mother got pregnant by him, whoever he was.)

We, the audience, see that there are men...an older pharmacist, a young student...who care for the waiflike Thérèse. She remains unable to process their proffered affection. It is here that Modiano achieves something I am absolutely stunned by: In a novel told all in first person, he manages the feat of making the emotional reality of other characters as clear to the reader as are Thérèse's disordered thoughts. It is a rare stylistic attempt, and it succeeds more often than not.

Why, you'll be excused for asking, isn't this a five-star review? Because, ma amie, Thérèse is nineteen and solipsistic in the extreme as are all emotionally abandoned children. It grows wearisome to trudge around after this yellow-raincoated woman to no avail, with no closure, by no authority empowered to address her. I don't for an instant think this is Thérèse's mother. I'm familiar with the trajectory of addiction and it's unlikely that someone lied to the girl Thérèse about her mother's fate. That's the sort of lie that comes with good intentions. No one's ever had an intention towards Thérèse, good or bad.

The ending of this novel is not really an ending. It is a place where we can leave Thérèse, like a safe street-corner near a police station, but knowing that we're out of there and no longer responsible to looking on at her life's messy, pale, unlikely to come into focus, trajectory. It's the proper place to leave her. It's what the entire trajectory of the story demands.

It feels a bit like we, the only people who will ever see Thérèse from the inside, are repeating the cruelty and abandonment that has been and will be her lot.

Brilliant. Unsettling. Evoking the eternal question that consuming art, novels in particular, wrenches forth from the sensitive: Is this just fancied-up voyeurism? Am I not being the low-life peeper that I condemn when she's listening at bedroom doors, he's got one eye on the braless busty babe?

[Uroš Đurković · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sigurno postoji neki dobar razlog zašto me Modijanova divna proza (ponovo) ostavlja ravnodušnim.

Istovremeno, tu je sigurno još bolji razlog zbog kojeg znam da ću sigurno čitati još njegovih romana – nostalgičnih fiočica sećanja koje šapuću prigušenu muziku.

Ono što može da se kaže za „U kafeu izgubljene mladosti”, važi i za „Mali dragulj” – posebna atmosfera srodna francuskim novotalasnim filmovima, često igra na krajnje lokalnu kartu – (mito)topografiju Pariza. Bez tih lokalnih priča, suptilnih signala, ne može se delo doživeti u snazi koju ima. Modijanovi junaci su, opet, na propast osuđeni detektivi sećanja čija je uža specijalnost prošlost koja nikad ne prolazi. Životne i prostorne lutalice.

Glavna junakinja ovog romana sreće na stanici ženu koja liči na njenu odavno mrtvu majku. Dok je prati, razlistava joj se, u tračcima pejzaža sete, cela prošlost.
Sve je utvarno i utvarno lepo.

Vrlo je zanimljivo, u kontekstu teme o gubitku (majke), što je baš Handke preveo ovo delo na nemački.

[Sorayya Khan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Little Jewel is my introduction to Patrick Modiano, and I wish I'd come to him earlier. The novel is a map of loss, from the shards of a young woman's memories to the Paris neighborhoods to which they are connected. The novel is short and spare, the language crystal clear. The language is in striking contrast to the young woman, Little Jewel, who lives not so much in the present, but in the connections she is trying to establish between her memories and the world around her. She sees a woman in a yellow coat she thinks is the mother who abandoned her long ago, and she follows her, perhaps for answers. Little Jewel slips and slides as she attempts to make the most basic question comprehensible. Why did her mother abandon her? What did that mean for her identity? Could she ever be whole again? Was she ever? I experienced the rare clarity of Little Jewel's world, like the sharp smell of ether she mentions, in terrible contrast to the incompleteness of memory, that maddening reality that makes everything go blurry again. Little Jewel's loss is even greater than what she can tell us (or her two friends), because she cannot remember all she longs to.

[Mosco · Rating 5 out of 5]

che fatica diventare grandi, superare un'infanzia raggelante e poco amata, prendere in mano la vita accogliendo la propria parte di amore. Senza continuare a nascondersi cercando di dare il minimo disturbo; senza chiedere scusa per il solo fatto di esistere.

[S©aP · Rating 4 out of 5]

Le ragioni per cui amare Modiano (o - al contrario - per non amarlo) sono tutte presenti in questo piccolo romanzo. La vicenda è animata da un frammento di memoria importante, precedentemente rimosso, che si riaccende grazie a una coincidenza fortuita. A detto ricordo si allude nel corso di tutta la narrazione, tuttavia sfiorandolo, affinché non torni a divorare l'anima. Ciò fa sì che il relativo-presente (gli avvenimenti che sorreggono la vicenda) sia velato di inquietudine, e che tale resti fino all'esito. Fino, cioè, alla consapevolezza di una reale, liberatrice, imminente "elaborazione del lutto". Là, nel momento esatto in cui l'ultimo particolare del ricordo si salda al presente, e da interrogativo inquietante si trasforma in semplice vita vissuta, la storia s'interrompe, resta sospesa. Rientra in quel flusso di quotidiana esistenza che non richiede attenzione.
Sfondo a tutto ciò, una Parigi serale, esatta, presente e lontana al tempo stesso, in cui Male e Bene convivono, in equilibrio.
Chi non ama la discrezione e l'understatement potrebbe annoiarsi alla lettura, o non capire. Manca, negli scritti di Modiano, una fotografia del Male; non ve ne sono descrizioni esteriori, morbose, estetizzanti, comuni a molti best sellers. Ugualmente, chi non desideri affondare nel meccanismo di (propri) ricordi gravosi potrebbe incontrare disagio, anziché diletto.
Ma con la memoria bisogna fare i conti. Ciascuno a modo suo. Non ci è concesso ignorarla. Ecco: Modiano ne esplora gli angoli oscuri in modo garbato, elegante, senza lasciare che l'oscurità torni a fare inutile danno.

[Dan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thérèse Cardères is barely nineteen. She lives in Paris, with no family, no friends, no plans, no hopes, and no money. Her life is bleak, her emotions restricted to exhaustion and dread. She wanders Paris and the metro. Not the Paris warmly-lit by the nostalgia and memories of many other Modiano protagonists, but a bleak and grey Paris with all the characteristics of an empty moonscape.

Thérèse never knew her father and doesn’t know his identity. Thérèse’s mother was a failed dancer, living in a succession of apartments not her own, with a succession of shady friends. Her mother changed her name frequently — Cardères, O’Dauyé, Borand —
what’s really her name, anyway? — and she secreted away a seemingly endless cache of large denomination francs of unknown origin. Seemingly devoid of maternal love or even affection for Thérèse, her mother abandoned her by fleeing to Morocco twelve years earlier and supposedly died there. Thérèse remembers her mother as a serial liar: ”. . . she would lie, she would cover her tracks. . . by lying about her age and by giving a false first name. And surname. And even a false title of nobility.” Thérèse sees a middle-aged woman with a dancer’s gait and her mother’s visage at the Châtelet metro station during rush hour and follows her almost to the end of the line and then into a near deserted café: is this truly her mother? Thérèse returns to Châtelet station and the café on other evenings, spies her would-be mother again, and follows her to an apartment block. She learns from the concierge that this woman now goes under yet another name, Boré. As typical with Modiano’s fiction, Little Jewel progresses with addition upon addition of promising but ultimately unsatisfying relationships for Thérèse, who both yearns for and seems incapable of transforming the kindnesses and affection of a middle aged pharmacist who tends to her and a young linguist who cares for her into any semblance of happiness or security. As also typical of Modiano, Little Jewel haunts its reader with an unsettling and unresolved ending: ”from that day on, life was beginning.”

Little Jewel contains many of Modiano’s signature tropes: Paris neighborhoods, missing parents, a mysterious past, lying about oneself and one’s life, youthful poverty, and working class youthful envy of the student life. But Little Jewel is also unusual among Modiano’s novels, with some interesting variations. It’s told in the first person by a female protagonist, Jean Rhys-ian in her hopelessness; Paris, rather than a source of nostalgia, serves as a living urban nightmare of dread and doom; and the shadiness of Thérèse’s mother, as well as her neglect of and even cruelty towards Thérèse, is shadowed by the mysterious family for which Thérèse baby-sits.

Little Jewel was first published in 2001. Modiano started publishing novels in 1968 and, depending upon how one counts up his oeuvre, Little Jewel is almost his twentieth published novel. I’ve read all of Modiano’s novels published in English prior to Little Jewel and I look forward to reading the rest of his fiction and other published work. Yes, even Catherine Certitude, Modiano’s beautifully illustrated children’s book about ballet and the obscure and also beautifully illustrated 28 Paradises. Little Jewel is a fine, disconcerting, and expertly executed novel — sad and thought-provoking — and a good representative of Modiano’s fiction from 1968 to 2001.

4.5 Modiano stars

[Debbie Robson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have to admit I’m obsessed by Patrick Modiano. Like Modiano, I believe memory and identity are everything and the author has made both themes his playground; he is the master of both - studying the elusive nature of memory and what the lack of a concrete identity can do to a person. Many of his characters have gaps in their past, strange incidents they can’t fully recall, a parent who disappears for long stretches of time or acquaintances that don’t reveal their real names.
In Little Jewell his main character is a woman. Nineteen year old Therese is a lost soul, wandering the streets of Paris, without a stable home environment and only the odd job to get by on. She was told that her mother died in Morocco twelve years ago but one night she sees a woman in a yellow coat she believes is her mother.
“A wide avenue, lined with apartment buildings, on the border between Vincennes and Saint-Mande. Night was falling. She crossed the avenue and went into a phone box. I waited for the lights to change a few times, and then I crossed too. In the phone box, she took a while to find change or a token. I feigned interest in the window of the nearest shop, a chemist displaying the poster that terrified me in my childhood: the devil blowing fire out of his mouth. I turned away. She dialled a number slowly, as if for the fist time and then held the receiver against her ear with both hands. But there was no answer.”
I have only just begun to work my way through his novels but I find them very satisfying to read. Perception and inertia play their part to in preventing Modiano’s characters from finding peace. It seems his prose also lulls the reader too. I was definitely surprised by the ending. An ending that has a hint of danger but then that’s just my perception of the last few pages. Another reader may feel differently.

[Parastoo Ashtian · Rating 3 out of 5]

«یک چیز هست که نمی‌توانم بفهمم. چرا مادرتان برای رفتن به مراکش شما را رها کرد؟»
چقدر عجیب بود که کسی از شما همان پرسشی را بکند که شما پیش از آن یگانه کسی بودید که برای خود طرح می‌کردید... در خانه‌ی فوسو مبرون، گاه متوجه بخش‌هایی از گفت و گوی فردریک با دوستانش می‌شدم. گمان می‌کردند که حرف‌هایشان را نمی شنوم یا کم‌سال‌تر از آنم که آنها را دریابم. واژه‌ها در ذهنم حک شده بودند - به خصوص حرف‌های موخرمایی، همان که مادرم را در آغاز کارش شناخته بود و از او خوشش نمی‌آمد. یک روز گفته بود: «خوشبختانه سونیا پاریس را به موقع ترک کرد...» احتمالا در آن زمان سیزده ساله بودم و این حرف‌ها در نظرم اسرارآمیز می‌نمود، اما جرئت نکرده بودم از فردریک توضیح بخواهم.

از متن کتاب

[arcobaleno · Rating 4 out of 5]

Qualcuno suonava uno strumento a percussione.
Dopo le prime battute frastornanti, durante le quali non capivo dove le note mi portassero, ho trovato un equilibrio di ascolto. Non dovevo fermarmi sui personaggi, cercarne caratteristiche, chiedere precisazioni, ma dovevo entrare nell'ambiente, lasciarmi avvolgere dalla nebbia, trasportare dal vortice. Con una scrittura veloce, a periodi brevi, Modiano permette di rimanere sospesi tra realtà e sogno, memoria e immaginazione, tormenti e solitudini; di girare in tondo, per tornare al punto di partenza; e poi riallontanarsi; o, infine, restare. Ed è proprio questo ciò che Modiano mi ha permesso di fare: avvertire le deformazioni, provare le vertigini e partecipare agli stati d'animo senza bisogno di raccontarli, di precisarli, ma esprimendone le sensazioni dal didentro, grazie anche alla sua scrittura fluttuante eppure sintetica, avvolgente eppure asciutta.
... Ne uscivano note chiare e desolate, come una musica di sottofondo

P.S. Mi accorgo, solo dopo averle scritte, che queste impressioni ricalcano sorprendentemente quelle già espresse, un paio di anni fa, nel mio commento a "Riduzione di pena". Oltre a confermare, ora, la mia opinione su Modiano, confermo dunque il mio ringraziamento a ScaP per avermelo fatto conoscere, allora.


Consigliato da ScaP

[LW · Rating 3 out of 5]

Les arrondissements de l'âme

Ci si perde con Bijou , nei suoi percorsi interiori, nei meandri dei suoi incerti ricordi d'infanzia
per una Parigi notturna ,labirintica e indecifrabile...

Romanzo enigmatico, sospeso , charmant

I giorni seguivano i giorni senza che niente li distinguesse, in uno scorrere regolare come quello del tapis roulant della stazione Châtelet. Ero trasportata lungo un corridoio senza fine e non avevo neppure bisogno di. camminare.E poi, una sera qualsiasi, all'improvviso avrei visto un cappotto giallo.
Da quella folla sconosciuta in cui io stessa finivo per confondermi, si staccava un colore che non dovevo perdere di vista se volevo saperne un po' di più su di me.
- Bisogna trovare un punto fermo affinché la vita smetta di essere questo fluttuare perpetuo...

3 stelline e mezzo
(mezza stellina in meno per i dialoghi con il misterioso ragazzo incontrato a mezzanotte in una libreria in boulevard de Clichy, goffi in modo irritante ,lui è gentile -oui- ma raggelante :) )

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ce court roman s'agit des sujets typiques de Modiano: la mémoire, les souvenirs, la réalité, les mensonges, et l'oubli. Un jour au métro, Thérèse voit une femme au manteau jaune qui physiquement lui rappelle sa mère. Mais Thérèse croyait sa mère morte au Maroc depuis des années. Ce croisement hasard lui mène sur une route de souvenirs brumeux de son passé. Son obsession avec la femme au manteau jaune et la distinction entre le vrai et le faux dehors les episodes de son enfance lui laisse dans un incapacité de vivre sa propre vie au présent. Il y a un douceur et un beauté dans le style de Modiano, un style qui se double la qualité de rêve du conte. Surtout il écrit avec un amour profond de Paris qui est sans égal. C'est un très joli roman de mystères psychologiques et de profondeur.

[Josh · Rating 2 out of 5]

These are a few phrases that come to mind when reading Modiano: poetic dullness, mysterious overtones, sad undertones and unfulfilled storyline.

I've tried, but I can't connect with his writing. The disconnect, after two novellas, is more than enough to make me not want to read him again.

Thank you to Goodreads and Yale University Press for giving this to me for an honest review.

This relationship ends here, Patrick. It's you, not me.

[Siti · Rating 4 out of 5]

Parigi. Thérèse è alla stazione Chatelet e la sua vita scorre incessante come il tapis roulant che trasporta i parigini per le quattro direttrici della città. Un cappotto giallo, quello di una donna sconosciuta, e il suo viso, incredibilmente uguale a quello della madre , cambiano il corso della sua esistenza che pare mettersi in faticosa marcia solo ora, quando sono ormai dodici anni che nessuno la chiama più Bijou. Decide di seguirla e di riannodare i nodi del passato col pesante presente.
Modiano affida ad una breve ma intensa narrazione in prima persona la cronistoria di questa ricerca, fa scattare nel lettore i meccanismi di tensione necessari per captare ogni indizio, prefigurare scenari, ipotizzare soluzioni e rendersi in qualche misura partecipe della tensione creativa. Eppure non ambisce a fornirci una storia dai contorni definiti, prepara il terreno per un quid di possibilità che non trova mai conferma. Bijou trova la madre? Bijou ritrova davvero i luoghi della sua infanzia? Bijou riacciuffa se stessa bambina? Bijou, rovistando tra i frammenti della memoria e i pochi cimeli che le sono rimasti, trova conferma della sua storia individuale? Bijou, dove sei Bijou? Il presente le restituisce chiavi di lettura, la illude e la sconvolge ma finalmente la scuote.
Quanto è difficile abbandonare le illusioni coltivate per dare risposta ad un abbandono? È necessario conoscere i dettagli? È bene sapere a tutti costi una verità o sperare di ricostruirla? Mi pare che Modiano con la fumosità e l’evanescenza del vissuto restituito in questa ricerca abbia voluto rispondere negativamente a tutte le questioni sollevate, lasciando al lettore la consapevolezza che è meglio dare un senso ad un’esperienza, ad un trauma, offrendo una lettura ostica ma efficace senza necessariamente riempirla di un contenuto.
Interessante modalità narrativa del non detto, del non narrato, del suggerito, potrei dire che è una scrittura che attiva la modalità di riflessione , è efficace ma sconcertante, si imprime sicuramente nella memoria di lettura

[philosophie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Έτσι, θα προσπαθήσουμε να δούμε πιο καθαρά.
Ανέκαθεν στα βιβλία Γάλλων συγγραφέων ψάχνω την αίσθηση, τη μαγεία του παλιού γαλλικού κινηματογράφου, των ταινιών του Godard, του Rivette, του Chabrol.
Πρόκειται για ένα noir, με τη στενότερη έννοια του όρου, για μια αναζήτηση, μια επιβεβαίωση της ταυτότητας, της ύπαρξης.
Μελαγχολικό, απαισιόδοξο έργο, αφήνει τον αναγνώστη σε αδιέξοδο, σε ευρύτερο προβληματισμό και στοχασμό.
Οι χρόνοι περιπλέκονται, οι τόποι επαναλαμβάνονται, το σύνολο των εμπειριών και των προσώπων της ζωής της Τερέζ, της μικρής Μπιζού, φαντάζει εφιαλτικό.
Ένα παιχνίδι με τις έννοιες μνήμης-λήθης, φωτός-σκοταδιού, ασφάλειας-απώλειας.

[Dejan Vojnovic · Rating 3 out of 5]

Posle čitanje ove knjige nekako se osećaš prevarenim. Očekuješ puno toga, a zauzvrat ne dobiješ ništa.

[Gill · Rating 3 out of 5]

'Little Jewel ' by Patrick Modiano (originally published 2001)

3.5 stars, 7 out of 10

I have previously read The Night Watch (originally published 1969) and Ring Roads (originally published 1972), both with a different translator from 'Little Jewel'. I have also seen the film Lucien Lacombe (1974), for which Modiano collaborated with Louis Malle on the screen play.

I read 'Little Jewel' because I was interested to see how Modiano's writing has developed.
This translation into English of 'Little Jewel' is published in the UK in 2016.

The story opens with the young female narrator (a first for Modiano) seeing a woman in a yellow coat on the Metro, whom she thinks may be her mother who has abandoned her. The story goes through many twists and turns, and backwards and forwards in time, as we gradually learn a bit more about the narrator, her childhood, her growing up, her relationship with her mother.

I found the story absorbing, and liked the way that the aspects of the various characters were gradually revealed. Although this was in the first person throughout, I found it reminiscent of the way that William Faulkner develops his stories through multiple voices.

As in previous novels, Paris itself is a main character in the novel. I appreciated this greatly, but I think this aspect would be more meaningful to me, if I had a more detailed personal knowledge of the city.

I didn't find the writing in this novel as 'edgy' as I did in Modiano's earlier works. Here there is a more elegiac feel. I wonder whether there is any connection with there being a different translator?

I have read several reviews and articles concerning Modiano, that compare his work with that of W.G. Sebald. This is an interesting comparison, and is much more apparent to me in this novel than in his earlier works.

I look forward to more of Patrick Modiano's work being translated into English.

Thank you to Yale University Press and to NetGalley for an ARC.

[Maksym Karpovets · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am nothing. Nothing but a pale shape, silhouetted that evening against the café terrace, waiting for the rain to stop.
P.Modiano. Missing Person

It was my second meeting with Patrcik Modiano. I clearly remember his sixth novel Rue des Boutiques Obscures which was written in 1978 (he was awarded with by the Prix Goncourt). In that text Modiano had developed his main theme of memory and he continued that in La Petite Bijou.

You could call it poetic prose or metaphysical detective or anything you want, because Modiano tries to unit different techniques in order to observe human personality. According to Modiano and his mini-novel La Petite Bijou we couldn’t exist without past. That’s why main character (18-year-old girl) is looking for key for her past. This psychoanalytical operation sounds fine but in real text I got bored with this question every time I tried to unit all threads of this story.

If you’re looking for atmosphere you’ll get it. In this novel poetic part is bigger that prosaic. Logically, that the right key for this world is how do you feel it, but not how do you understand it. Sometimes I think that Modiano doesn’t really care about characters and he argues with postulate that everything is determined by transcendental powers (whatever it could be – destiny, history or God). The place is more important in Modiano’s novels that people. It seems that he believes that we are not define the world, but world defines us. And nothing can be done with it.

3

[Claudiu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Anul acesta am citit mai multe (micro)romane de Patrick Modiano. Mai am inca unul pe lista si cred ca am ajuns la saturatie.
La fel ca in mai toate romanele sale (cele pe care le-am citit, desigur), personajele sale sunt intr-o continua cautare a identitatii, intr-un timp nedefinit. Numele personajelor si alte detalii sunt, oricum, irelevante. Daca timpul este nedefinit, spatiul este marcat cu precizia Google Maps.
Modiano imi face impresia unui autor cu o singura tema repetata si ras-repetata.

[Ioana · Rating 3 out of 5]

O carte potrivită pentru vremea tomnatică de afară, dar care nu a strălucit în ceea ce privește finalul.

[Γιώργος Ζωγράφος · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ο τρόπος γραφής του Μοντιανό είναι τόσο απίστευτος που τον λατρεύεις από την πρώτη λέξη. Η μνήμη-λήθη και η χαμένη ταυτότητα, η απουσία του πατέρα είναι ξανά τα θέματα με τα οποία ασχολείται ο Μοντιανό και στο La Petite Bijou και το κάνει με εξαιρετικό τρόπο. Μελαγχολία, Παρίσι, το μετρό του Παρισίου, το Δάσος της Βουλόνης, ήρωες χαμένοι στις ζωές τους και τις μνήμες τους, προσπάθεια της ηρωίδας να θυμηθεί με πολλές διακοπτόμενες αναμνήσεις που προκύπτουν χωρίς καμία προειδοποίηση και μπερδεύουν τον αναγνώστη οδηγώντας σε μια ονειρική ανάγνωση.

Ο Μοντιανό στο La Petite Bijou χειρίζεται τα γαλλικά με έναν περίεργο τρόπο χρησιμοποιώντας συνεχώς τον Plus-que-parfait (υπερσυντέλικο) προσπαθώντας να αποδώσει το χάος που επικρατεί στο μυαλό της ηρωίδας, το μπλέξιμο του χρόνου και ταυτόχρονα μπερδεύει και τον αναγνώστη σε αυτό το ονειρικό ταξίδι στην Μνήμη.

De toute cette foule d’inconnus à laquelle je finissais par me confondre, une couleur se détacherait que je ne devrais pas perdre de vue si je voulais en savoir un peu plus long sur moi-même.
« Il faut trouver un point fixe pour que la vie cesse d’être ce flottement perpétuel… »
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Qui étions-nous toutes les deux ? Une femme d’âge incertain et une jeune fille perdues dans la foule du métro. De cette foule, personne n’aurait réussi à nous distinguer. Et quand nous étions remontées à l’air libre, nous étions semblables à des milliers et des milliers de gens qui reviennent le soir dans leur banlieue.

[Χρήστος Γιαννάκενας · Rating 3 out of 5]

Η "Μικρή Μπιζού" δεν είναι ένα κακό βιβλίο. Είναι μια νουβέλα, επί της ουσίας, τοποθετημένη στο μυαλό της ηρωίδας της. Είναι μια καλογραμμένη ιστορία, με μπερδεμένη αφήγηση, που στοχεύει στο ψυχογράφημα. Είναι μια ιστορία για το μεταπολεμικό Παρίσι, χωρίς να μας λέει ποτέ τον ακριβή χρόνο. Είναι ένα έργο που μας προκαλεί να το ανακαλύψουμε.
Ταυτόχρονα όμως είναι ένα βιβλίο που προσωπικά με άφησε αδιάφορο στο τέλος. Με την ηρωίδα του σαν κέντρο, ο Modiano δεν δίνει ουσιαστικά περιθώρια ανάπτυξης στους χαρακτήρες του, του χρησιμεύουν μόνο σαν μανεκέν στην βιτρίνα της ιστορίας. Και στο τέλος δεν έχει και μεγάλη σημασία που καταλήγει η ιστορία ή και η ηρωίδα της, η επίδραση τους είναι επιδερμική και, εν τέλει, ελάχιστα αξιομνημόνευτη.
Παρόλα αυτά, δεν θεωρώ πως δεν πήρα τίποτε απολύτως από την "Μικρή Μπιζού". Είναι ατμοσφαιρικό έργο, αρκετά μυστηριώδες και, όταν οι στόχοι του γίνουν κατανοητοί, τότε μπορεί και να εκτιμήσεις τον χρόνο που του έδωσες. Όμως εγώ προσωπικά έπρεπε να διαβάσω πρώτα το επίμετρο των τελευταίων σελίδων για να καταλήξω που πήγαινε αυτή η βαλίτσα...
Ίσως αν ήταν ένα μεγαλύτερο βιβλίο να άνθιζε, όμως με το μικρό του μέγεθος δεν αφήνει περιθώρια για μια καλή ζύμωση.

[Rebecka · Rating 4 out of 5]

Weird, but very good! There are at least three different stories of interestt here, and they're all just left hanging, which is both intriguing and a bit frustrating.

[Natalie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Teško djetinjstvo, bez pružene ljubavi, dovede upravo do ovako izgubljene odrasle osobe.

[Diane · Rating 4 out of 5]

She's 19 and it's been 12 years since she saw last saw her mom. She had been told her mom had died in Morocco. So who is this woman she saw at the Metro Châtelet who looks so much like her mom? She follows her.

This will be the start of her mental breakdown. So far, she'd kept it together, the memory of her unstable childhood with an unstable mother and the absence of her father. Seeing her dead mom bring everything to the surface. She was unloved, yes, but unloved to the point of being abandoned by the only parent she had left? She cracks.

This is a poignant short story by Modiano (Nobel Prize 2014) that talks about neglected children and the solitude of pain. The style is very elegant, measured and respectful.

[Ο σιδεράς · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Το τηλέφωνο χτυπούσε για πολύ ώρα. Περίεργο ήχο είχαν αυτά τα κουδουνίσματα, κάπως μπουκωμένο, πνιχτό. Ποιος τάχα να έμενε στο διαμέρισμα; Οι αληθινοί ιδιοκτήτες, ασφαλώς. Τα αληθινά παιδιά - αυτά που αναφέρονταν στον πίνακα της κουζίνας - είχαν ξαναβρεί το δωμάτιο που τους το είχα σφετεριστεί για δύο χρόνια. Και στο δωμάτιο που κοιμόταν η μητέρα μου, υπήρχαν τώρα αληθινοι γονείς.

"Δεν απαντούν... " είπε ο Μορό- Μπαντμαέφ.»  σελ. 124

Ο Modiano σε βάζει να κάνεις εσύ όλη τη δουλειά.. Ν’ ανασυνθέσεις μια συνεκτική εικόνα απ τα θραύσματα της, σε πρώτο πρόσωπο αφήγησης του, τα τόσο σκορπισμένα κι ασύνδετα που μου μοιάζουν υπερβολικά πολλά..

Θα χρειαστεί η ανάγνωση  ενός ή δύο ακόμα για ν αποφασίσω αν η ιδιορρυθμία του αξίζει την όποια αναγνωστική προσπάθεια, ή είναι απλά φρουφρού και (γαλλικά) αρώματα - ένα λογοτεχνικό αντίστοιχο του κινηματογραφικού «Betty Blue» του Μπενέξ..

Κινηματογραφικός είναι πάντως, αλλά μάλλον  όχι στο στυλ που θα μ’ αιχμαλώτιζε - αλά Γκοντάρ: «Τα μόνα που χρειάζεσαι για να κάνεις μία ταινία είναι ένα κορίτσι κι ένα όπλο», Ζαν-Λυκ Γκ..  

Έλλειπε το όπλο..

The MOST BEAUTIFUL SHOTS of JEAN LUC GODARD Movies:
 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-Z8fG5...

[George K. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Αυτό το μικρό και ωραίο βιβλιαράκι είναι η πρώτη μου επαφή με το έργο του Πατρίκ Μοντιανό, βραβευμένου με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας το 2014. Πρόκειται για ένα χαμηλών τόνων και μελαγχολικό νουάρ, έτσι όπως μόνο οι Γάλλοι μπορούν να γράψουν (εκτός, ίσως, από κάποιες εξαιρέσεις).

Πρωταγωνίστρια είναι μια νεαρή κοπέλα με ελαττωματική μνήμη, που τριγυρίζοντας στα βουλεβάρτα και τα πάρκα, τους σταθμούς του μετρό και τα διάφορα "καφέ" του Παρισιού, προσπαθεί να ανασυνθέσει τα παιδικά της χρόνια, να εντοπίσει κάποια τραύματα, να κάνει μια νέα αρχή. Όλα αυτά με αφορμή μια γυναίκα με κίτρινο παλτό που είδε στο μετρό, η οποία έμοιαζε πολύ με την χαμένη μητέρα της.

Η πλοκή κινείται με αργούς και σταθερούς ρυθμούς, χωρίς εξάρσεις και ένταση, καταφέρνει όμως να κρατάει το ενδιαφέρον του αναγνώστη μέχρι το φινάλε. Ο συγγραφέας μας πηγαίνει αρκετά συχνά μπρος-πίσω στον χρόνο και μας δείχνει το μπερδεμένο μυαλό της συμπαθητικής αλλά μοναχικής πρωταγωνίστριας. Προσωπικά αυτό το στιλ μου άρεσε πολύ, αλλά θέλει λίγη προσοχή, γιατί μπορεί να μπερδευτεί κανείς. Το Παρισινό σκηνικό περιγράφεται με λιτό και εξαιρετικό τρόπο και η ατμόσφαιρα είναι σαφώς εξαιρετική, κάπως σκοτεινή και ίσως απαισιόδοξη.

Γενικά είναι ένα πολύ καλό βιβλίο, ήρεμο και μελαγχολικό, που δίνει ευκαιρίες για προβληματισμό και στοχασμό πάνω στην μοναξιά, την ταυτότητα και την μνήμη του παρελθόντος. Η ελληνική έκδοση (Πόλις) κλασικά πολύ ωραία και προσεγμένη. Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα διαβάσω και άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα.