Wicked Angels

by Éric Jourdan, Thomas J. Armbrecht (Translator)

Wicked Angels is the exquisite English translation of the classic 1955 French literary novel Les mauvais anges, banned for thirty years for what was called its 'subversive' subject matter. It is the story of Pierre and Gerard, two teenagers who share a love that no one else around them can condone. The two young men discover their destiny in each other's arms, their passion coupled with violence - and ultimately pay the price. The novel is a profoundly lyrical ode to adolescent love and sexuality, as well as a bold and elegant rejection of society's values while on the road to self-destruction.

Genres: LGBT, Fiction, Queer, France, Gay, Classics, Romance

120 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1955

About the author

Éric Jourdan was the pen name of Jean Roger Éric Gaytérou, later changed in Jean-Éric Green after his adoption by american writer Julien Green.

His first book was the 1955's novel Les Mauvais Anges, (lit. "Evil Angels"), published at fifteen years old, which was banned for his homosexual, violent and controversial content. However it was later published in english in a special edition with the title Two, translated by Richard Howard.

Jourdan, proudly independent, always rejected to be included in the Parisian literary and intellectual world, as any political party. After his parents' death he was adopted by writer Julien Green. He changed his identity numerous times and wrote under many pseudonyms which he never revelead.

He was buried next to his stepfather in St. Egid Stadtpfarrkirche of Klagenfurt, Austria, in february 2015.

Reviews

[Matteo Fumagalli · Rating 5 out of 5]

Videorecensione: https://youtu.be/OK_a0Z_DgDw

Sapere che questo gioiello è stato scritto da un ragazzo di sedici anni mi lascia senza parole.

Romanzo palpitante di eros e tanathos. Crudo, sanguigno, disperato e passionale come i più tormentati amori di gioventù. Scritto divinamente.

Ovviamente, come al solito, scandalosamente sconosciuto e fuori catalogo.

[Federica ~ Excusetheink · Rating 5 out of 5]

Quando Stanley Kubrick modellò la figura del piacere impiacentito e divenuto carne traeva ispirazione da questo libro, io ve lo dico.
Siamo di fronte a un testo perfido, sanguigno, crudo, violento, tenero e disperato... ma non, come si è supposto, sui tormenti adolescenziali, bensì come possono essere soltanto gli amori privi di futuro, che sappiamo sbagliati, a senso unico. Si creano a qualunque età. Pierre e Gérard sono diciassettenni figli di due sorelle in vacanza nei pressi della Loira degli anni '50, tanto basti perché alla loro unione non sia permesso fiorire e vedere la luce. Prima l'uno poi l'altro narrano, gridano infelicità con foga tanto bruciante che si ritiene impossibile fosse contenuta tutta nel ragazzo imberbe di sedici anni che impugnava la penna... e senza ausili esterni (prova ne è l'intervista a questo link).
Miracoli di tal tipo avvengono raramente ma non sono isolati, mi sento di paragonare Éric all'americano Jim Carroll che iniziò a stilare i celebri Basketball Diaries a dodici anni! Profondi conoscitori delle parole, le sceglievano con raffinata eleganza portando entrambi a compimento opere più mature di quanto un adulto, perdute l'innocenza e la voglia di sognare ancora, possa bramare di giungere mai se non ha basi letterarie.

Bandito due volte in patria nell'arco di trent'anni da noi non va tanto meglio, dato che mi sono per il momento accontentata di leggerlo in pdf sullo smartphone. E non potevo decidere per sotterfugio migliore, essendo capitate nello scritto immagini che, proprio per via degli amori infelici cui accennavo, mi martellano nel cranio piuttosto di frequente se ho la malsana idea di affidare il mio cuore a una persona diversa da me. Ciononostante, han saputo confortarmi dicendomi che no, non sono pazza! Ed è bellissimo.
L'ho terminato ieri dopo una simil full immersion durata due giorni e se mi soffermo a pensarci ho ancora il respiro mozzato. Procuratevelo, trovate il modo, anche in digitale, ma leggetelo.

[Juan Naranjo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Esta novela, escrita en Francia en 1955 y censurada durante 30 años, se titula LOS ÁNGELES CAÍDOS, pero yo considero que habría sido mucho más correcto titularla CONTRI MÁS PRIMO MÁS ME ARRIMO. No hay duda de que está tremendamente bien escrita, pero los 17 años del autor cuando la escribió se perciben en un dramatismo de una intensidad grotesca y en una teatralidad que, de tan exagerada, a menudo produce cierto pudor.

Cuenta una historia bien sencilla: la campiña francesa, una casa de verano, un bosquecillo a la orilla de un río y dos chavales descubriendo el amor (que resulta, oh fatalidad, que son primos-hermanos). Y hasta ahí todo normal… dentro de, en fin, la literatura francesa, que ya sabemos todos cómo es. Pero la cosa se pone turbia muy pronto. Es decir, aún más turbia de lo que a priori parecía que iba a ponerse. Porque en esta historia que podría haber sido la simple paja literaria de un autor novel, muy pronto aparece un desproporcionado gusto por la violencia, el sadismo y la sangre. Pero muy desproporcionado, ¿eh? Desproporcionado de darse PALIZONES a guantazos y correazos. Una cosa espeluznante. De leer con la cara desencajada y un ojo medio cerrado.

Que yo no sé a qué viene, con lo bien que escribía el muchacho y el contexto tan bonito donde estaban los protagonistas, las ganas de estropearlo todo a base de fustas y puñetazos. Llamadme vainilla, pero a mí esto me ha parecido innecesariamente sobrecogedor. Tanto que, conforme avanzaba el libro, entendí que lo de haber estado censurado treinta años no creo que obedeciese a la historia de amor que se narra (que ya ves tú a los franceses lo que les importará eso) sino a ese gusto ESPELUZNANTE por el sadismo y los latigazos. En fin. Que me callo ya. Pero que ha sido terminar el libro y sentir la necesidad de persignarme con agua bendita.

[Monique · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 'Tristan and Tristan, Romeo and Romeo' stars

I don't know where to start because this book was not as I excpected it to be. I'm not even sure what I expected but I was really curious about it, since it was banned the moment it was published. Les Mauvais Anges tells the story about two cousins, who both lost their mothers (who were sisters) at young age, and are being raised by their fathers. At 17 they are both a little wild and rebelious.

The story takes place during summer break that changes everything - in a wirlwind of very intense emotions, Gérard and Pierre fall in love. They are at age when everything feels very life or death, especially love, so their approach to these feelings is very hardcore. They are experimenting a lot; manipulating with their emotions and kind of competiting with each other, who is more besotted with the other. And while all this is relatively harmless, they are much less carefull with their bodies. I believe they are indulging in sexual activities for the first time and are very eager to try everything they desire. Being young and reckless, they don't think much about safety, which means that BDSM without safe words and rules, is the worst option for them.

I would not say that this is a smutty book, despite a number of sex scenes, because the writing style is very... artistic, maybe? If felt like reading Rachilde or Baudelaire, so definitely something decadent or hedonistic rather than just simply hot and sexy. Which considering the time it was written, is to be expected. I can't really decide if Gérard and Pierre are likeable charachters. They are very destructive - to themselves and to others, which make them somehow hard to truly like. But regardless, they are both very intriguing charachters. Especially Gérard has an interesting relationship with death, that is not depressing despite his frequent suicidal thoughts. I could say it's very 19th century - overly romantized and sexualized. And I could also say that this book really represent some kind of decadent ideal in a way that mixes pain and pleasure, love and death in such a delicious manner. Add to this incest and homosexual love, and you get a perfect recipe for a banned book to be.

I have a lot of thoughts about ending. I can't exactly decides what to feel about it but it's hard to say it's sad because in a way it suits the general tone of the story, that they both die by Gérard's hand at the end.

****************************************

Ne bom ponavljala, kar sem povedala že v prvem delu mojega reviewja, moram pa pohvaliti zanimiv prevod, ki je imel veliko nenavadnih izrazov, za katere predvidevam, da se pojavijo tudi v francoščini. Res bi bilo zanimivo to knjigo prebrati v originalu. Rada bi delila še dva odlomka, ki zelo dobro predstavita Gérardov in Pierrov odnos. Pismo oziroma pesem, ki jo je Gérard napisal Pierru, je res eden od higlightov te knjige.

Ti si moja EKSTAZA
Ljubezen briše slike, umakni se!
Sanje s tabo poletijo v meni.
Kaj bi rad, ti dal srce sem v temi,
in kri in svoj obraz in kožo, ud in vse.

Zakaj me vežeš? Ne morem več ubežati,
sebe vidiš v njih, če mi razpreš oči.
Srce obeh, besede o ljubezni ni,
s teboj v užitku hočem v smrt zaspati.

Kričal sem, in skušam se povzpeti
v prepad... Življenje mi je treba vzeti.
Nesmrten le postanem, če me ubiješ.
Puščava tvoja sem brez konca,
o, ti, sanjam, da zgubim te, da se skriješ,
za žejo tvojo dam ti slino, spermo, kri.

Poleg tege mi je zelo zanimiv tudi tale odlomek, spet iz Gérardovega vidika. Kot sem že omenila me stil pisanja zares spominja na dekadenčno gibanje, ki mi je seveda zelo pri srcu, zato njegovega razmišljanja nisem dojemala tako temačno.

Kri me je vselej fascinirala. Življenje in bolečina sta odvisna od njenega gibanja. Pripisujemo ji moč. Iz nje naredimo barvo vojne, in ljubezen z njo obarva svoje orožje, kot da ne bi bilo ljubiti nič drugega kot bojevati se. Največje zgodbe o strasti, ki so preživele stoletja, so poškropljene z njo; in v sebi sem nosil njihove sunke z bodalom in smrtne poljube Srce, v katerem je središče našega poguma in v katerem skrivamo klice nežnosti, je tu samo zato, da zbira nasilnost in odmeva od njene zamolkle glasbe.

[Nick Tramdack · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Our love was night. It was the fresh cheek of dawn, the revelries of our joyous flesh. Other people could abandon their fickle desires, could follow their whims. I had deliberately chosen the narrowest path, on either side of which yawned an abyss."

A sadomasochistic gay romance in overheated yet scrupulously polished prose. In lieu of a plot summary (there isn't much) here are some notes on Jourdan's literary style. It's weird enough to deserve a look. It's also worth noting that the writer of the book was seventeen at the time, just like his characters...

Jourdan's basic storyline (such as it is) is propelled by transparent, unremarkable verbs. The extravagant verbs are usually reserved for emotional states, rather than the depiction of a putatively "real" world... unless, ahem, that thing depicted is a smoking hot adolescent body. Language warps to fit its subject. I'll omit to prove this since it would be tiresome.

Romantic superlatives, extremes, and totalizing claims tend to dominate: "He was surpassing even his own beauty..." "All scenes of beauty are like this. The alacrity with which they disappear is the very essence of their charm."

Similes are usually rejected for metaphors. What's more, Jourdan employs phrases usually used to organize the statement of objective facts, in order to buttress impressionistic claims: "In fact, my impertinence surrounded me like a halo." I mean, that isn't a fact. But when treated as one, it contributes to the effect.

Unfortunately, this beautiful sleight-of-hand, this treating of feelings like facts, has a downside. Sometimes it becomes a kind of literary autopilot for Jourdan. And you get passages like:

"We were alone, almost as if we were living alone together, two boys without any feminine complications between us. It was possible, not so much because of the weakness borne of dark feelings, but from a virile attachment forged of camaraderie and love."

At places like this, it's as if Jourdan's compositional habits forced him into "backing up" his claims with explanations that aren't really explanations. "We had no feminine complications. Why? Because we had a virile attachment." Again, this isn't an argument, it's not tight; the IMPRESSION, though, carries off the effect... despite the fact that this line barely fits the logical standards of a fraudulent doctor in a Moliere play.

A stylish initial move transforms a statement into an admission. "It's true that the warm night had made me forget my worries completely."

As if love gives the POV characters Kantian superpowers, they assert extreme control over their perceptions: "Although the guy had a handsome, sensual face, I only had eyes for Pierre and refused to see [the handsome guy's] beauty."

Worth the read. The romance and sex never feel exploitative; nothing seems written to titillate. And unlike SO many kinky stories, this story's violence is integral to the emotional arc of the story... because the rigor with which these boys' love excludes every aspect of the feminine comes precisely at the cost of /brutality/.

A delirious love story written out of sincerity and pain.

[Clemence · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fini dans la nuit, fini dans le noir. Ce livre, je ne pouvais le lire que dans le calme, le silence. Il fallait laisser résonner l'écriture magnifique de cet auteur. Il fallait laisser libre court à la poésie de Pierre, aux sentiments de Gérard, à l'amour si fou et intense de ces deux amants.
Je n'ai jamais rien lu de pareil. Le style de l'auteur était aussi incroyable que la fin était douloureuse.
L'amour peut tuer.

[Liam Ostermann · Rating 1 out of 5]

I know I read this book around the time it came out and I know I had reservations about it, though I can't remember what they were, but I am sure I would have awarded it three or, more likely, four stars. For a long time I wanted to reread and review it properly but all copies had disappeared from libraries, which was explained when I went online to buy a copy and saw the prices copies sometimes command. Fortunately I found an incredibly inexpensive copy which pleases me even more having read this dreadful book. Why I didn't recognize it for the pretentious tosh it is on first reading I can't explain or excuse but this is a bad book, not a morally bad book, but a bad book in the Wildean sense ('There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written' in case you have forgotten). The reviews on GR almost invariably call Jourdan's writing lyrical but is the following lyrical or just absurd and pretentious?

"...We have made blood the color (sic) of war. Love's weapons are stained with it, as if loving was just another form of combat. All of the legendary stories of passion that have taken place over the centuries are splattered with it. I myself have scars from its dagger, and bruises from its deadly kisses. The heart, were (sic) we think that courage lodges and cries of tenderness hide, is only there to bleed blood dry of violence and to hold back its voiceless music."

and

"...We lived so far beyond ourselves that a world disinclined towards love couldn't possibly understand us. Slowly I realised I wasn't some eighth wonder of the world...I stopped looking for perfection in everything around me. Instead I took pleasure in the sweet, ancient feelings of which most people are no longer conscious, but which still reside deep within our bodies."

Maybe this reads better in French. It doesn't read well in English I found the novel's 120 odd pages interminable and almost gave up reading this bogus, pretentious tripe. Does anybody really think that two 17 year old middle class French boys thought like that in 1955? Don't fall for the canard that Jourdan wrote this at 17, he was 25 when the novel was published. Jourdan is no Kenneth Martin and 'Wicked Angels' is no 'Aubade'. He is certainly not comparable to Philippe Besson whose 'In the Anscence of Men', written when he was twenty five suffers, in its conclusion, from a younger man's extremes of passion and despair.

What bored me about 'Wicked Angels', aside from its prolix pretentiousness, was that all this 'intellectual' flummery was there to disguise a plot that was full of inconsistencies on every level including character and motivation and which was most annoyingly a series of, even for 1955, cliched little scenes of S&M porn. We get slapping and whipping, a father spanking his naked son, a rape, a fight that is disguised coitus, but none of it is based on reality or consistent with any motivation or the way either of the boys think or act. How many fathers suddenly decide to start spanking their son while completely naked when they are 17? How many people get raped by a neighbour and then go and attend his party? None of it makes sense, except as the tropes of S&M mastabatory literature.

I will be clear that I don't like S&M as fantasy let alone as reality but I have no moral qualms, mine are aesthetic. Jourdan is not Genet this is trash very consciously wrapped up in fancy language. There is calculation here, this may be a young man's novel but is a young man looking to have a succès de scandale. It is no surprise that nothing further by Jourdan has been translated to English (and only a very few have been translated into any language) and, apparently, the thread of S&M violence can be found in many.

I wanted to compare this translation to the earlier 1963 one but, the Internet Archive is down due to a cyber attack so I can't, though I will do so at a later date.

This edition has an interesting introduction which does give a great deal of information about why the novel was banned. Unfortunately Thomas J.D. Armbrecht, the translator does not provide enough context particularly about any other banned 'gay' works. He also ignores the 1963 English translation and allows it to appear that his is the first. Oddly more then one GR reviewer has complained about the novel being translated by a 'German', but he is an associate professor at an American university and has written books and articles about French gay literature, I rather imagine he is American.

I've already devoted to much space to this novel, you know if you are going to read it and nothing I say will stop you.

[ALEARDO ZANGHELLINI · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn’t care for the whole ‘love is violence, and violence is love’ thing, not to mention the eroticisation of blood and beatings (descriptions of whippings are always guaranteed to get a string of yawns out of me; mention of cuts, welts, etc is a complete turn-off). Since all this turns out to be what drives the narrative tension, you might say I didn’t quite care for the book.

And I didn’t, I suppose, but this is impressive in many ways, so it still gets 3 stars. First, there is an undeniable lyricism to it, or at least to certain passages. Secondly, it’s not easy to write of all-consuming love (and I literally mean all-consuming), without sounding ridiculous, or without trying your reader’s patience. Remarkably, ‘Wicked Angels’ mostly succeeds in doing so. Sure, the lovers’ cerebral movements are rather tortuos and long-drawn at times, and the whole thing is overblown, but you have to remember that the book was written by a 17 year old.

Indeed, as I read through some particularly inspired passages, it was sometimes hard to believe that a teenage writer could have matured such insight. But this very maturity also works against the book. In both the first part (narrated by Gerard) and the second part (told from Pierre’s viewpoint), at times the voice seemed to me that of an older man fetishising a younger lover, rather than two teenagers rhapsodising about each other. It is possible that the problem here is, in part, with the English translation: there is something that doesn’t quite sound right in a teenager speaking of his lover as a ‘boy’ in English, perhaps because the word ‘boy’ (like ‘girl’ and ‘child’) lumps together everyone from age 0 to 18, so its use comes across as rather infantilising, at least to my ear. I suspect that ‘garcon’ — assuming that is the word used in the original — has a different connotation from ‘boy’: like the Italian ‘ragazzo’, it may only apply to older boys, making its use by Pierre to describe Gerard (and vice-versa) sound less artificial.

I couldn’t see the last chapter coming and, given that it did come, the conclusion that followed was quite befitting and satisfying.

[Chris · Rating 1 out of 5]

Violent, tragic love story of two 17-year-old cousins, Pierre and Gerard. Formerly banned in its native France, the previously taboo subject of adolescent love between two young males is coupled with their sadomasochistic tendencies. I wish I were able to say I found something redeeming in this short novel, but I quickly grew tired of the gay "Fight Club" overtone.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I tried to surprise the other Gerard, the one I would never know unless I were able to finally overcome that thin barrier of skin at last and to become the flesh itself."

I know this was published 70 years ago, but I'm convinced this book hasn't found its audience yet. This is melodramatic teenage narrators at their finest (finest? worst?). Think of Micah Nemerever's These Violent Delights but the characters are like... a lot worse. I'd probably give it a 4.5 star (rounding down up as this one stuck with me).

If you like supremely toxic and codependent relationships and can handle every trigger in the book, I recommend this one.

[Dioreste · Rating 5 out of 5]

Éric Jourdan dépeint un amour qui va au delà de l'amour, qui rejoint la passion, une passion violente, honteuse, sale, morbide, un amour qui déchire, qui détruit une jeunesse si pure qu'elle ne peut pas paraître corrompue. Et pourtant il dépeint cette horreur avec une beauté et une poésie rares et constantes tout au long du roman, qui fait que l'on est fasciné dès les premières pages par l'amour sanglant de Pierre et Gérard. J'ai trouvé la prose sublime et j'ai admiré la façon dont le récit, par sa beauté, n'en est resté pas moins effroyable, horrible : c'est ce contraste qui fait toute la puissance du lien fatal qui lie Pierre et Gérard. Et c'est dans cette fatalité qu'ils sont unis et enchaînés, a l'image des anciennes tragédies.

[Nicolas Chinardet · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un livre extraordinaire, plein de poésie et de violence, imprègné du désir d'absolut de l'adolescence. Même si je suis pas très fan de la fin.

[hitherto · Rating 3 out of 5]

voilà ce qui arrive quand on a pas de safeword

[Domenico Francesco · Rating 3 out of 5]

Indubbiamente un romanzo ammirevole, considerando che stando all'editore è stato scritto da un ragazzo di quindici anni. Un romanzo erotico che segue la narrazione di due cugini adolescenti innamorati, caratterizzato da una forte dimensione sadomasochistica. Ammirevole poiché è scritto benissimo, in uno stile ricercato e raffinatissimo, senza mai essere pomposo e con una precisa e realistica caratterizzazione psicologica. Comprensibile come il romanzo sia stato bandito poco dopo la sua uscita, non solo il tema era particolarmente scabroso già di per sé considerando l'epoca, ma alcune riflessioni e descrizioni sono particolamente esplicite. Tutti questi elementi portarono ad un'inevitabile oscurità per il romanzo nonché per il suo autore che continuò a scrivere, a quanto pare anche sotto pseudonimi che non sono mai stati identificati.

[Mae · Rating 4 out of 5]

Narrazione molto intensa della passionale storia d'amore tra Pierre e Gerard, cugini, amici ed amanti diciassettenni. Già nello stile dell'autore è sin dall'inizio racchiusa la fine tragica della loro storia che, come ogni vero amore intriso di gioventù e romanticismo, tende irrimediabilmente alla morte per avere il suo tramite verso l'eterno.

[Jo March · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sono indecisa tra le tre stelle e mezzo e le quattro.
Scrittura a tratti eccessivamente ampollosa, difficile da seguire. La storia, spesso estrema, mi è piaciuta molto.
Sento però di non averlo capito fino in fondo

[Maakaari · Rating 5 out of 5]

it's moving, arousing, erotic, heart breaking.

there's no way you can't be touched by this short novel, no matter if you're gay, straight or even Swedish

[kcroft]

can't decide if it's youthful sexy french sadism (à la bataille) or just a fucked up masculinist relationship

[Brittany · Rating 2 out of 5]

Déçue, relation toxique, je n'ai pas trouvé la romance que je cherchais

[Valeria · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un racconto d'amore esagerato e fortemente drammatico. Lo scrittore aveva sedici anni quando é stato pubblicato, l'adolescenza ne é infatti la chiave di lettura. L'età delle emozioni amplificate e delle sensazioni portate all'esponenziale. L'età delle "crush" che si vivono con una passione quasi totalizzante.
Il bucolico paesaggio della Loira, dove l'alta borghesia francese si reca in vacanza durante l'estate, cela in realtà la scenografia di conflitti e violenze, e dell'amore fra i due cugini Pierre e Gérard, che non potrebbero essere più diversi.
Se da un lato Pierre é forte di carattere e dedito allo studio, Gérard é più cupo e perverso, ma così bello da attirare l'attenzione. Ed è un po' attorno al fascino di Gérard che gira la storia, talmente bello che tutti vogliono possederlo.
Le relazioni sono tratteggiate con contorni estremamente cruenti, giovani di famiglie altolocate che non riescono a godere di nulla se non possono possederlo. E se non possono possederlo, tanto vale distruggerlo. L'amore si sovrappone all'odio e l'odio si sovrappone all'amore, come se fossero lo stesso sentimento.
Lo stile di scrittura é impressionante e maturo (considerata l'età dell'autore). Purtroppo il racconto é fuori produzione e attualmente é difficile da reperire.

[Martin · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have wanted to read this 1955 book for years but it is out of print due to being banned in the author's native France and was hard to find. I came across this 2006 English edition on Ebay for a reasonable price and purchased it. This book was supposedly written by the author at age 17 and it is the turgid story of two French adolescent cousins involved in a sadomasochistic love affair. Their love was so all consuming that it brought violence from both parties. I neither found it erotic or romantic, more Marquis de Sade, than Francoise Sagan and a visceral rather than enjoyable read.

Spoiler Alert: This edition has a long foreword that reveals details of the plot. I would suggest reading it after you finish the book.

[Valentino · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Pierre had been the only one I had accepted, and for him I knew at last that it was the same. I murmured
"I adore you." My nails sank into his sides, I wanted not only my sex but my whole body to make his flesh mine, mine his pain and mine his weakness. I was in his place and in my skin at the same time; my heart mingled his desires and my acts, my memories and his presence. Pierre yielded himself little by little, with a force that excluded all feminine sensuality: the man surrendered to his need.”

violent & devastating

[mr. methadone]

Jourdan had a remarkable ability to contrast intense violence with beauty. Few authors would be able to offer such flowery descriptions of sadism. Despite the display of sadistic elements, this book, while possibly erotic, is by no means pornographic. Do not go into it expecting your conventional romantic-tragedy. Though I'm tempted to refer to it as 'ahead of our time', it's plot and themes are timeless.

[Pyknoparakmachia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Una storia tra due ragazzi, cugini, i principi dell'amore non convenzionale, con tratti sadomasochisti, fino al finale brutale. Quello che mi ha sconvolto è che questo romanzo è ha un lessico tipo del naturalismo francese e scritto da Jourdan a soli 16 anni.

[H. Barberas · Rating 5 out of 5]

très belle écriture, assez frontal, cru, sans fard. C'est comme lire 2 longues lettres d'amour de 100 pages chacune : Pierre à Gérard, Gérard à Pierre. C'est dingue d'avoir écrit ce livre à 16 ans. On sens la jeunesse d’écriture mais quelle belle prose. parfait pour démarrer l'été

[cassidy. ♱ · Rating 3 out of 5]

this was good, and their codependency reminded me a lot of julian and paul’s in these violent things. i can’t help but feel there was something missing, something lacking, with so much potential. still has a good time reading and enjoyed it a lot!

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poétique, histoire merveilleuse. Dommage que l'auteur ne soit pas plus présent dans le paysage littéraire

[macabro · Rating 4 out of 5]

teneramente violento

[vic · Rating 5 out of 5]

idilliaco e sublime; viscerale e violento. ci sono dei passaggi meravigliosi. da divorare.

[Vittoria Agostinelli · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5