This is definitely the longest book I have yet read in French. Like many other readers, I found the parts called "Roman" kept me engaged while the parts called "Commentaires" were sometimes heavy going. The subject of the "Roman" parts, a career soldier named Victorien Salagnon, has delegated the telling of his life story to an unnamed young narrator in exchange for painting lessons. The device works well. The "Commentaires", the narrator's account of his own doings and conversations with Salagnon, don't lack action or dialogue, but there is a rather inordinate amount of philosophical rambling which is at times illuminating but at others might have been better left out. That is my impression, but had I been reading this in my own language then my response may have been different. I don't know.
A simple summary of the novel is thus: Salagnon is a senior schoolboy in occupied Lyon "qui prend le maquis" (who slips away to join the resistance) and continues to serve during the occupation of Germany; at a loose end in the aftermath of WW2 he goes as a paratrooper to Indochina; after the French defeat in 1954 he goes to Algeria and continues there till the French exodus in 1962; the Lyon to which he returns is riven with social problems which are the product of France's colonial wars.
A central motif of the book is Salagnon's lifelong compulsion to paint, a practice which he continues in every theatre of war and to which he attributes the survival of his sanity. The novel's title ambiguously references his painting. Painting, for Salagnon, is an escape to a wordless space where he can deal with feelings that go beyond words. A recurring theme of the "commentaires" is the damage which France's shameful colonial wars have done to the language.
Jenni is at pains to present the reader with the horror of war, which occasionally becomes tedious as much for its predictability as for the graphic detail. This is an unashamedly polemical novel which takes aim at war, colonialism, racism, and Charles De Gaulle (le grand menteur). For all its faults, it is still a magisterial work of fiction with something very compelling to say about France in the modern era.
The soldiers who served in De Gaulle's colonial wars are presented as rough and ruthless men, capable of atrocious acts of violence, but Jenni somehow managed to maintain in me, as reader, a sort of reserved sympathy for these people shaped by war and horrific circumstances. The old soldiers have become a contentious group in post-colonial France, intolerant, nostalgic for the simple certainties of war and potentially violent. North Africans are a marginal group, identified with Islam, and another group, represented by Eurydice, the love of Salagnon's life, are the "pied-noirs", French colonials born in Algeria. All three groups live on the margins of French society, in banlieues such as Jenni's deplorable "Voracieux-les-Bredins". All have legitimate grievances and the tensions will eventually ignite riots. Colonialism is the root cause of this explosive mixture.
I was puzzled by the sudden appearance near the end of the novel of the narrator's odd-looking girlfriend, with her lips coloured "rouge profond", her eyes "violette" and her white hair ("de duvet de cygne"). Is violet close enough to the blue of the French flag to make her a red, white and blue allegorical figure of la France? From the moment she appears he adores her, and (for whatever it may signify) he is bonking her in the very last sentences of the book. What do other people make of this?