Le livre est parti parfaitement au hasard, sans aucun personnage. Le personnage était l'Arbre, le Hêtre. Le départ, brusquement, c'est la découverte d'un crime, d'un cadavre qui se trouva dans les branches de cet arbre. Il y a eu d'abord l'Arbre, puis la victime, nous avons commencé par un être inanimé, suivi d'un cadavre, le cadavre a suscité l'assassin tout simplement, et après, l'assassin a suscité le justicier. C'était le roman du justicier que j'ai écrit. C'était celui-là que je voulais écrire, mais en partant d'un arbre qui n'avait rien à faire dans l'histoire. Jean Giono.
Jean Giono, the only son of a cobbler and a laundress, was one of France's greatest writers. His prodigious literary output included stories, essays, poetry, plays, film scripts, translations and over thirty novels, many of which have been translated into English.
Giono was a pacifist, and was twice imprisoned in France at the outset and conclusion of World War II.
He remained tied to Provence and Manosque, the little city where he was born in 1895 and, in 1970, died.
Giono was awarded the Prix Bretano, the Prix de Monaco (for the most outstanding collected work by a French writer), the Légion d'Honneur, and he was a member of the Académie Goncourt.
The novel takes place in a village near Vercors in the middle of the 19th century. A young woman disappears, and she never will be found. So a murder was committed, and the criminal tracked, denounced, and sent for priests by Langlois, the gendarme, who resigns, pleading the accident. There is an easy trigger, whether for vigilant action or shooting down a wolf during a hunt. It is around him that the plot revolves. Enigmatic, distant, he intrigues, intrigues us. The story, described as a chronicle, is taken up by several narrators, but it needs to be more evident at the start. Sometimes, it takes work to know who is speaking. Like the main character, who is elusive, it isn't easy to understand the novel. We wonder where the author is going with this and what his point is; that might be where the interest lies. It's nebulous, like the snow that falls over the pages. It's certainly not a bad novel, but it was written in one go and finished as best it could. That's puzzling. That's not what I'm looking for in a reading.
This slim novel is packed full of remarkably vivid imagery. Giono's prose partially explains this intensity, but it is also the authors use of the contrast between darkness and light. The scene with Langlois and the Priest standing outside the rectory, looking out from the torchlight towards the darkness of the surrounding woods. The wolf at the base of the cliff, watching calmly as the encircling torchlight closes in. The dark drops of blood against the white snow. Giono utilizes contrast like a painter wielding his brush. It is impressive.
As for the story itself, the first two thirds of the novel is fantastic. The dread of the lurking Monsier V. The hunt for the gentleman wolf. It's great storytelling by a very talented writer. The final thirty pages or so are dedicated to Langlois' quest for a wife. I don't understand why Giono felt this needed to be included in the story. Given the title, I am guessing that it has something to do with Langlois' need to stay preoccupied as he ages. And given the result, I would venture to say he failed to do so. The dangers of living as a king without diversion (or, as NYRB prefers, a king alone).
The blurb on the back of the book describes 'A King Alone' as having the intensity of a strange dream. I completely agree. The sustained presence of fog or dense cloud cover adds to this dream-like allusion. I am going with four stars even though I cannot claim to fully understand it. Excellent.
This book is intense, challenging, and very strange. It is the story of a man sent to a remote village in the French Alps in the 1840's to investigate a series of murders. The descriptions of the village itself, the family connections of its residents, and of nature and the surrounding countryside are all very rich. Giono is quite successful at creating an ominous atmosphere right from the start.
However, the main character is kept at a distance from the reader; we are never allowed into his point of view. We only see him through the eyes of other characters. While an interesting authorial choice it was nonetheless a bit frustrating. Also, despite the novel's already short length, it was somewhat baggy in spots. All in all, though, a fascinating, off-kilter read.
I think NYRB is starting to lead us all on with the hyperbole of heretofore untranslated "masterpieces." They're really starting to (maybe it's been a long time) dress up slight novels of middling to no significance as hidden gems. I think I'll stick with the older ones - you're more sure to find gold in the things they thought were immediately important to bring back out into print. The sales copy and blurbs are starting to feel like a ruse. Seriously - the book is not at all what the back of the book makes it out to be. This was a con job.
Au XIXe siècle, la neige condamne les régions les plus reculées de France à la paralysie, au silence et à l'ennui durant les longs mois d'hiver. Une série d'assassinat va pourtant réveiller brutalement l'un de ces villages figés dans l'attente, le plongeant dans la terreur et l'excitation...
S'il est, effectivement, difficilement accessible,sa lecture nécessitant quelques efforts de réflexion et d'analyse, Un roi sans divertissement est une vraie perle littéraire pour quiconque sera prêt à les fournir. A condition, également, de ne pas s'attendre à une intrigue policière classique. Ayant emprunté son titre à ces mots célèbres de Pascal:" Un roi sans divertissement est un homme plein de misères", Giono propose ici une réflexion profonde sur le diptyque ennui/cruauté, que seule la création littéraire pourra transcender. A travers son œuvre se dessine un miroir implacable nous renvoyant à notre propre monstruosité, tout en permettant à l'écrivain de surmonter la sienne, non sans virtuosité. En effet, il ne fait nul doute que la lecture de ces quelques taches d'encre alignées sur le papier blanc suscitent une émotion puissante, esthétique et spéculative. Tout comme la contemplation du sang écarlate qui éclabousse et sublime la neige immaculée.
A creepy little book that will at first haunt you for all the right reasons and then rob you seemingly of the need for horror until the very last page. A series of nested narrators recount certain, strange events in a small village in the French Alps in the 1840s. First, someone starts killing the villagers one by one. Two, a fellow is called in to investigate, Langlois, and he...well, I'm not actually sure what he does, but I won't spoil anything. Three, Langlois organizes a wolf hunt. Finally, Langlois wants to get married. These events are all interspersed with controversial and contrary accounts of Langlois, his character, and vague, disturbing rumblings amongst everyone, including Langlois. A challenging and eerie novel that cements Giono's status more and more as one of the best French writers of the 20th century!
Incredible. Incredible!!! I would advise ignoring the synopsis. Reading this was like sliding into a bath of cream electrified by a live wire. I needed frequent breaks, but I couldn't take them. If you'd like to not be in your own head for a while, this book is for you. If you love unreliable narration, folktales, inscrutable men, the infection of horrific compulsions, wolves, richly and subtly drawn female characters of high and low French 19th century society, serial killings, eruptions of pagan violence, sensuous descriptions of trees, winter, stories of lycanthropy, mountains, and being deeply unsettled, this book is also for you.
This is the third book in the so-called 'Horseman Cycle,' coming two after Angelo (the first), which, naturally, was written many decades later. If you're confused by any of that, I guarantee it's not half as much as Giono is here with his own creation. The junk stuff of a good, even great, novel are present; they're just put to half-use when at all.
Of course, there is the possibility that players herein will come to have greater, perhaps even less intentionally abstruse, importance in later novels, but I will never know as a good half of the Horseman Meditations (hey, it needed a new name) remains untranslated. Then again, if I live to 150, I may be forced to eat these words. To which: gladly!
"Everything is not enough/and nothing is too much to bear" comes to mind...
je savais que j’aurais pas dû garder l’arrière goût que la moi de 16 ans avait à propos de ce livre omggg 😭🙏🏼
plus sérieusement, je pense que j’aime vraiment beaucoup ce bouquin. je comprends que plus jeune j’aie eu du mal à le lire (pas de chapitres, des transitions parfois assez soudaines, des changements de points de vue très soudains également), mais ça valait vraiment le coup. l’histoire reste intéressante, les personnages sont HYPER humains et au fur et à mesure de l’histoire j’avais cette impression que l’auteur voulait faire de nous un personnage, quelqu’un qui écoute les chacun des persos fictifs raconter leur histoire et raconter ce que Langlois a fait / a amené dans leur entourage.
je ne sais pas si je recommande cette lecture mais en tout cas j’ai vraiment apprécié la lecture :)
Heads up: what follows could be a little spoilery for some.
Giono’s was not a name I knew before NYRB Classics came through and published a few of his novels. A King Alone came somewhere in the middle of his writing life, it was the first one at the end of WWII, and it was markedly different from his earlier work. It was the beginning of a new period blah blah blah. The earlier stuff had more optimism, the writing was more lush and lyrical, and the later stuff, beginning with A King Alone, was darker, more pessimistic.
Whatever it was I expected from this novel, I got something else. It’s been described as a murder mystery or a detective novel, as “the story of a remote Alpine village tormented by a serial killer.” But it isn’t really these things. Or it only partly is. It’s less a mystery novel than a mysterious one – oblique and strange – purposely confounding. The murderer is found and dealt with not far into the book, and then there’s the rest of the story, during which the true mystery becomes clear: the character of Langlois, the investigator, himself. Giono tells us very little. He barely gives the reader much from which to make inferences even.
The title comes from a quote from Pascal: “A king without distraction is a man full of misery.” The surprising ending of the story hinted (to me) more clearly than anything else that Langlois is a man haunted, hunted even, by personal demons, experiences from a past he would try throughout the rest of his life to escape.
It wasn’t a difficult read – it’s tricky in a way that’s almost playful. I was happy to go with the flow of Giono’s deviations and uneven rhythms. It’s a hard book to describe because of the shifts in tone, and the changing narrative perspectives.
But it is attractive when intelligence and peculiarity are combined in one idiosyncratic voice – and I do enjoy being taken to weird places. I didn’t love this novel but I enjoyed it because it’s highly unusual and I’ve read nothing like it. Suspenseful, bitterly humorous, often dreamlike, alluring in its signals. It was a weird ride.
Trong "Un roi dans divertissement", chúng ta theo chân viên cảnh sát Langlois truy tìm 1 kẻ sát nhân hàng loạt, được cho là người đứng đằng sau nhiều vụ mất tích không dấu vết của dân làng Chichilianne mỗi mùa đông từ 1843 đến 1845. Tuy nhiên, cuộc truy đuổi kết thúc khoảng sau 1/3 quyển sách, và người đọc nhanh chóng nhận ra đây không phải là một quyển tiểu thuyết trinh thám, mà là một tiểu thuyết về cái ác, sự chán chường, bạo lực và sự đen tối trong mỗi con người.
Thật sự rất khó để nói về Un roi dans divertissement mà không spoil hết mọi thứ, vì chính cái kết của nó là thứ giúp người đọc thực sự hiểu toàn bộ câu chuyện. Đã 2 tuần rồi kể từ khi mình đọc xong cuốn này và cái kết vẫn ám ảnh với mình. Khi mình vừa đọc xong, mình vẫn không hiểu lắm, phải bẵng 1 lúc sau đó, đột nhiên mình mới nhận ra, mới xâu chuỗi lại mọi thứ và mới thật sự hiểu chuyện gì đã xảy ra. Mình ko biết phải diễn tả làm sao những cảm xúc mình cảm nhận lúc đó nữa, vừa kinh hãi, vừa xúc động, vừa nổi da gà, vừa rớm nước mắt. Kiểu, *mindblown*, ồ thì ra là như vậy, rồi càng ngẫm lại 1 số tình tiết mà lúc đọc mình thấy ko liên quan lắm thì lại càng hiểu ra thêm. Và sau khi thấy 1 số bạn review, mình nhận ra trải nghiệm này ko phải chỉ của riêng mình.
Ngòi bút của Giono thật sự rất rất đẹp và ko hề giống với cách viết của nhà văn nào mình từng đọc qua. Mình vẫn còn như in trong đầu hình ảnh ngôi làng Chichilianne trắng xóa tuyết, hay con ngựa cực kỳ dễ thương của ông Langlois, hay cuộc săn chó sói của dân làng, hay quán cà phê của bà Saucisse, hay bên trong ngôi nhà của bà thợ may,... Cái thuật kể chuyện (narration) ban đầu làm mình thấy hơi khó đọc vì vừa không theo trình tự thời gian tuyến tính bình thường, mà còn nhiều người kể chuyện (gần chục người), mà thay đổi người dẫn chuyện ko hề báo trước, nhưng mà ko hiểu sao đọc 1 hồi quen cái thấy bình thường.
Mình chưa thấy có bản dịch tiếng Việt nhưng có bản dịch tiếng Anh tựa là "A king alone". Hi vọng là Giono sẽ được dịch ra tiếng Việt trong tương lai. Nhưng mà nói chung là vậy đó, nếu bạn có cơ hội thì đọc nha, mình nghĩ là nó sẽ hơi khó đọc 1 chút vì những lí do kể trên nhưng thật sự quyển này hay á.
I find parts of A King Alone downright inscrutable, and I'm not sure if it's because there's a hidden story here that Giono steadfastly does not spell out, or if it’s because the whole thing is just incredibly strange. The book focuses on the character Langlois and his time in a village in the French mountains. It can be divided into three parts: the hunt for the serial killer, the hunt for the wolf, and the bizarre account of a romance. Each part has pieces I do not in any way understand: during the hunt for the serial killer, why does Langlois choose to end it how he does? What is the motive? Why did no one notice the nails in the tree? For the wolf hunt, why did Langlois make it such a big to-do, and have Sausage dress up? For the final part, who exactly is in love with who, which of those loves has been consummated, and why does it end as it does? The parallels between the first two parts are blatant, but how does the third part tie in, if it does at all? I may have missed something, but I think the text only gives you enough to guess at some explanation that wraps things up, instead of enough evidence to come to a solid conclusion. Adding to that, Langlois as a character is just as strange as the book itself, a bizarre combination of qualities that make him eccentric to say the least.
To speak briefly about things I am sure about: I found Giono to be a solid writer, and I thought that the descriptions of the villages and countryside were particularly well done. The title is evocative, though the English translation doesn't really capture the point of the saying. It's a slim volume but doesn't feel insubstantial. I'm going to give A King Alone a 3/5, while reiterating that I largely didn't understand it, and I remain unsure if that's because I missed something or because there's not enough here to give a reader grounds to understand.
Why oh why did Giono insist on dragging us through 75 pages of boring ass stuff about embroideresses and parties at Madame Tim's house and the two or so months of Langlois's marriage? The beginning of this book was so damn sharp, so very nearly perfect I would have been happy to read it over and over again - hell, even the wolf bit was good - but then it just meandered for so long and so pointlessly that it lost any chance of greatness it had. I truly don't believe that any of those middle scenes shed any significant light on Langlois's character, or made him any more of an enigma - which could have been interesting - or reveal anything about him. I think Sausage came out looking pretty great from those sections - and I do love Sausage - but in the beginning it seemed like the book would be more about the village, and what the village does to people, than anything else. For Langlois to come back when he could've lived anywhere else, and then for him to commit suicide? Okay, that's interesting, fine. But dragging it out the way it was, was not.
It is such a genuine shame, because, truly, the beginning of this book is so, so good. The writing, my God. And the scenes in the tree where Frederic II finds the body! That was thrilling. But after that it slowly but surely loses its way. However, the beginning is SO good that I hesitate to say I don't recommend this book at all. I do think it's worth reading for it's beginning...just, you know, be braced for the lackluster middle and end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A lire les autres avis, je suis passée complètement à côté de l'œuvre... Dès le début, je ne voyais pas vraiment où l'histoire allait mais j'ai tenu à continuer pour voir si cela irait en s'améliorant... Eh bien non ! La fin m'a déçue et je suis sortie de cette lecture aussi perdue qu'au début.
I think this book has a lot going for it– the writing is beautiful, and the story is very moving at points. I did not expect it to go the direction it did, and the hazy/shifting narrator kind of suits this long-ago story from the french countryside.
I struggled more with the style and the plot. I’m probably just missing the point, but each of the three segments felt disjointed, and did not really reveal the primary character as much as Giono seems to think they did.
That said, the setting and characters really come alive, and the first two sections (a hunt for a serial killer and a hunt for a blood thirsty wolf) are haunting. Giono is a beautiful writer:
“It’s instantaneous. Was there some watchword uttered last night while you had your back to the sky as you stirred your soup? This morning, you open your eyes and see my ash tree with a plume of golden parrot feathers on its skull.”
Je ne sais pas trop quoi penser. Le roman est exceptionnellement bien construit, le style assez unique, les personnages bien campés - bref c'est un livre à lire - mais pourtant je n'ai pas accroché.
It’s funny to me that people don’t know giono because this stuff is like magic! It’s gripping and interesting to read and provocatively written and about a serial killer… but what is most interesting is the use of dialogue as narration: the whole second half of the book is a long quote… but is too effectively the story. Would recommend if anyone wanted to taste post war French modernism
I gave this book 4 stars but it may as well have been 1 or 5. This book is completely unique and unlike anything I’ve ever read, and I’m quite certain I didn’t understand it.
Giono’s writing is atmospheric and quite brilliant in its evocation of mood and place: the setting of this book is vivid and completely a world unto its self. The prose crackles and never repeats itself or grows staid: nevertheless, this book is nigh incomprehensible in its themes and characterizations. The lead character Langlois is a cipher, a figure by which every other character defines and refracts their own self, and this both makes him an undeniable center of gravity for the novel while also leaving him utterly opaque to the reader.
The plot takes 3 different sections, each less compelling than the last, but it is clear that Giono has no interest in the events themselves or even their significance. Instead, the misty atmosphere is left to be its own reward, as the variety of different townspeople step into frame before fading themselves back into the background: each sketches a different tiny piece of the bigger picture, which is destined to never be fully revealed.
All in all though, this book is a puzzling delight, and I look forward to coming back to it later in life (perhaps when I am older or wiser) and trying to tackle its meanings anew.
Il y a deux romans. Le premier, le roman du crime, vraiment prenant, très beau et terrifiant, mais il finit trop tôt. Commence alors le deuxième roman, celui du justicier, difficile à suivre. L'ensemble fait assez expérimental, il y a plusieurs narrateurs, plusieurs voix qui changent sans que l'on soit vraiment prévenu, il faut être attentif et accepter de ne pas tout comprendre tout de suite.
Ceci dit, plus on réfléchit une fois le livre terminé, plus on comprend où Giono veut en venir. Le premier roman aurait suffit, mais il y a l'enquête, une enquête qui n'est pas policière mais métaphysique (attention, pas seulement psychologique, c'est beaucoup plus que cela). Un polar métaphysique, voilà ce que c'est. La lecture en est potentiellement frustrante, mais je dirais qu'elle vaut la peine.
Translated here for the first time in English, readers new to Giono's may be interested to learn that this novel marks a "departure" from the author's most beloved and praised works. This we learn in an introduction, as well as a brief biography of this fascinating literary character.
The King Alone offers several gripping reveals, fantastic chase scene (on foot), and a dramatic hunting scene that unwraps itself like a mysterious gift.
Sadly, despite some exquisite passages, Giono dabbles and lingers and other more existential scenarios that never seem to fit together neatly.
I'm looking forward to reading one of Juno's earlier works, and I have my fingers crossed that there is an English-language biography of the man.
If this is, as some have billed it, an “existential detective story,” the burden of that descriptor should be placed fully on the “existential” and not the detective - the “mystery” is wrapped up within the first third and without much detective work of any sort. What follows is something altogether more interesting and vaguely strange - I wasn’t quite sure I liked it until the end, especially the paragraphs after the final lacunae which constitute a suitably French existentialist ending to the novel (think Camus, but funnier). An intriguing portrait of boredom, if nothing else.
I found this to be a very frustrating reading experience. It's a short novel, only about 150 pages, and yet the narrative seems to cut off about halfway through. What you're left with for the remainder is very different to what is appealing (to me at least) about the eerie first two sections: an off-kilter, basically inscrutable comedy of manners in dialogue. I really enjoyed the first fifty pages of this but as a book I can't really recommend it. Really weird.
Reading “A King Alone” is a beguiling and unforgettable experience. I have never experimented with psychedelics, but reading this book has to be on par with a drug induced dream. Perhaps the only thing I can compare it to is Juan Rulfo’s haunting and nightmarish “Pedro Paramo”. The book defies interpretation. One doesn’t remember themes so much surreal images: fog surrounding the alps, drips of blood on fresh snow, a murder investigation that involves using wolves to hunt down the suspect. 5/5