Comme si sa biographie se confondait avec la liste de ses romans, l'idée est venue à Françoise Sagan de se promener dans le paysage de son œuvre. Idée amusante et parfois cruelle qui l'entraîne dans une flânerie mélancolique à travers " profils perdus ", " chagrins de passage ", " lits défaits " et " bleus à l'âme ". Au hasard de la lecture, surgissent des moments de temps retrouvé : " le charmant petit monstre " de Cajarc, les années Saint-Germain-des-Prés, ses amours, ses maisons, ses voyages. Voyages autour d'elle-même, en somme, pages confidentielles traversées de fous rires qui nous rapprochent encore d'un écrivain que nous admirons. Mieux : d'une personne que nous aimons.
Born Françoise Quoirez, Sagan grew up in a French Catholic, bourgeois family. She was an independent thinker and avid reader as a young girl, and upon failing her examinations for continuing at the Sorbonne, she became a writer.
She went to her family's home in the south of France and wrote her first novel, Bonjour Tristesse, at age 18. She submitted it to Editions Juillard in January 1954 and it was published that March. Later that year, She won the Prix des Critiques for Bonjour Tristesse.
She chose "Sagan" as her pen name because she liked the sound of it and also liked the reference to the Prince and Princesse de Sagan, 19th century Parisians, who are said to be the basis of some of Marcel Proust's characters.
She was known for her love of drinking, gambling, and fast driving. Her habit of driving fast was moderated after a serious car accident in 1957 involving her Aston Martin while she was living in Milly, France.
Sagan was twice married and divorced, and subsequently maintained several long-term lesbian relationships. First married in 1958 to Guy Schoeller, a publisher, they divorced in 1960, and she was then married to Robert James Westhoff, an American ceramicist and sculptor, from 1962 to 63. She had one son, Denis, from her second marriage.
She won the Prix de Monaco in 1984 in recognition of all of her work.
Locker und elegant wie gewohnt blickt Francoise Sagan auf ihr Werk zurück. Sie gewährt Einblicke, die literarisch interessant sind, ohne allzu privat zu werden - außer wenn es um Mitterand geht.
Françoise Sagan is assigned the difficult task of proofreading a dozen of her works , in order to produce her own reviews. I had found during my reading of Des bleus à l’âme, how the commentary was difficult for Sagan, and how it was both beneficial to her writing as it is enjoyable and interesting to read in those conditions: in short, I love reading Sagan when she speaks of herself and her books. Like a carnivorous mother, she condemns or commends her own works but she never gives herself completely, being the creator of this beautiful little world. Sagan can not stop talking about the context of writing each of her "children" , and after all, this is probably what was expected of it at the time, to speak more of it . She talks about some of her friends but always with modesty , her temporary difficulties with life , publishers, the media , legal problems , she evokes moods , help she has received, and especially the famous relationship to writing. But whatever the subject, what we love above all in Sagan is the elegance with which she deals.
There couldn’t have been a better book to complete this year’s challenge. Françoise Sagan’s Derrière l’épaule is part biography, part reflection on her novels—both light and profound, much like her stories. There are no spoilers, no plots to unravel, and not much in the way of traditional engagement. It’s not captivating in a page-turner sense, yet somehow, it’s impossible to put down.
A fitting end to my year of 50 books—7 of which were by Sagan.
Ce livre qui résume une grande partie l’œuvre de Françoise Sagan, donne un bon aperçu de son raisonnement, présente des mœurs de l'époque auxquels elle a du s'y confronter, elle explique aussi sans retenue pourquoi certains de ces romans et nouvelles ont un air incomplet, rapiécé ou cru.
Je ne sais pas si je pourrais donner plusd' 'etoiles je le ferai mais on s' en fou un peu c' est Sagan, c' est la littérature à son meilleur. Merci Madame Sagan .