È il 1986 in un paesino della provincia un posto dove tutti si conoscono da sempre e nel quale le vacanze, con l'arrivo dei villeggianti, sono l'unico, possibile momento di novità. François ha quindici anni e due pensieri che martellano ossessivi in testa. Il primo è il suo credo ferocemente comunista. Il secondo, l'assoluta urgenza di perdere la verginità. I giorni scivolano tra progetti ingegnosi, fantasie erotiche e approcci mal riusciti, fino all'incontro con Julie. L'incontro che forse potrebbe cambiare tutto. Ma ci sono cose che non cambiano mai, e molti anni dopo eccola lí, la ferita ancora aperta lasciata da quell'estate lontana.
He was born in Luçon, Vendée and was first a member of the 1990s punk rock group Zabriskie Pont. After receiving his degree in Literature, he taught high school in Dreux and in an inner city middle school in Paris. He published his first novel, Jouer juste in 2003. In 2005, he published Dans la diagonale and Un démocrate, Mick Jagger 1960-1969, a fictionalized account of the life of Mick Jagger.
In 2006, his third novel entitled Entre les murs earned him the Prix France Culture/Télérama.
François Bégaudeau is a movie critic for the French version of Playboy, having previously worked for the Cahiers du cinéma. He also was a regular contributor for several French magazines, including Inculte, Transfuge and So Foot. Since September 2006, he is a columnist for La Matinale and Le Cercle on Canal+ television.
He worked on the screenplay of Entre les murs, a film based on his 2006 novel, in collaboration with Laurent Cantet. He also starred in the film, which received the Palme d'Or at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival, and an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Language Film in 2009 (though it lost to Japan's Departures). The English language version of Entre les murs was published in April 2009 by Seven Stories Press under the title The Class.
Aux trois quarts du livre j’étais très convaincue du récit. Immersion réaliste au cœur d’un été des années 80 en France, on est plongés dans les yeux d’un ado intello de classe moyenne qui revient passer l’été sur la terre de son enfance. Mais comme il a 15 ans, les préoccupations ont changé : maintenant il doit coucher avec une fille.
Et puis il tombe amoureux. Et ça donne de grands moments poétiques : « Je refuse sa bise pour signifier qu’on chemine déjà vers l’étape abouchement. Elle entre dans le jeu, bise dans le vide, juste pour ce moment j’aimerais être le vide. »
Puis, alors que je pensais avoir tout lu et me diriger tranquillement vers la fin de l’histoire, une autre arche s’ouvre. Bien que ce virage m’ait prise par surprise (c’est positif normalement d’être surpris dans un livre), ce dénouement a quelque chose de confus et décevant.
It was quite disappoining. The writing style was good but it held me from keeping up with the plot sometimes. The ending was also strange and I was confused. Anyway the base story was interesting, as well as the setting. I really hoped to like it more.
I really really wanted to like it more. It was good but the last part kind of ruined it for me. However that last part did somehow fit the tone of the novel, but in my opinion it left behind all the best aspects of it: the dreamy surreal stream of consciousness and those bits of raw dialogue that created the perfect atmosphere for a summer's tale , suspended in time, with a subtle dark side. But the dark side took over in the end, and it was a bit too much. Maybe my judgment was influenced by my own expectations. I liked the writing, I almost loved the first part. 2.75
I loved the angle of a 15 years old boy, telling us all about his obsession and plans to have sex for the first time. The character/story has character. Loved how the story takes place on a summer holiday, contrasting with the (teen) protagonist's twisted thoughts and marxist monologues.
BUT after you've turned half the pages it just becomes boring. and then BOOM, an awkward yet interesting subplot takes over the story and drives us to the ending in like 5 minutes WTF.
SO frustrated. It's kind of like building up a joke, and failing to tell the punchline properly.