Une petite fille grandit dans un village nouveau. Le père a disparu avant sa naissance. La mère a épousé un autre homme et souhaité s'installer loin de la ville. Le village est morne et ils y resteront des étrangers. Entre les enfants les liens se tissent quand même, dans les champs de fraise, ses amies s'appellent Manon-juste-Manon, BB ou encore Valence Berri. Elles rêvent d'Hollywood, mâchent de la Hubba Bubba, passent leur été à sauter dans la piscine du camping juste à côté. Tout semble normal. Mais une menace plane sur cet univers doucereux. Au village et dans la banlieue aseptisée où la famille déménagera dix ans plus tard il arrive que des filles disparaissent.
Rose amer raconte le regard inquiet d'une petite fille, puis d'une adolescente, sur la violence diffuse de l'ordinaire.
Martine Delvaux est née en 1968. Romancière et essayiste, elle a publié à ce jour chez Héliotrope trois romans remarqués : C’est quand le bonheur ? (2007), Rose amer (2009) et Les cascadeurs de l'amour n'ont pas droit au doublage (2012).
Martine Delvaux joins Kim Thuy, Heather O'Neill and Salma Naweez as my favourite Quebec authors. Her wonderful prose combined with her earthly passion of storytelling bring this story of a simple Ontario childhood to life. I read this book so slowly because it demands appreciation and time. I'm always thrilled to discover new talent and the Montreal roster just seems to grow and grow...there must be something in the water in the Plateau area...whatever it is...keep drinking!
It took me about 25 pages to feel like I understood the story. Doesn't seem like much, but when that's a quarter of the book...it's a lot. That said, I think it could have to do with the translation. The last 3/4 of the book felt very smooth and well put together. By the end, I didn't want this to stop. I really loved the style and voice that was presented here.
I have never read Martine's work, but I am now a huge fan.
My passing fancy of translations and Canadian writers caught me as the two here are combined.
Each chapter is like the skin of an onion, pulling it away to reveal a fresh new layer, or sometimes, decaying rot. I found myself on the edge of a gasp a few times describing different childhood memories.
I really did not want it to end.
Unique, fresh, dark, visual and compelling, a fantastic must read and one of the best I've read this year.
Un livre qui porte bien son titre! Entre le rose, le sucré et l'innocence de l'enfance et l'amer, les secrets et les responsabilités de l'âge adulte. Cette période étrange entre l'enfance et l'adolescence est très bien représenté! Une belle découverte!
On m’avait vraiment beaucoup recommandé ce livre et je dois dire que la description m’attirait aussi beaucoup. C’est un livre charmant et rien ne m’a agacé sauf que je n’ai pas été transportée par le livre, à aucun moment. Les disparitions demeurent anecdotiques et on passe vite au prochain souvenir. Je pensais qu’il y aurait un dénouement quelconque en lien avec des disparitions, mais non. Le livre ne m’a pas apporté de réflexion non plus. Il a juste bien fait sa job de « passer le temps ». Ce livre m’a laissé presque indifférente.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Unfortunately incoherent, this book barely had what I'd call a plot. It felt more like prose-poetry arranged in a semi-chronological fashion. If that's your thing, you may enjoy, but other than a few interesting pops of historical notes from the 1970s and 1980s, and some asethetically pleasing bits of prose, I found the 100 pages of this book to be a snore.
Every once in a while I take a chance and buy a random book to read. This was one of those. A very Canadian book but in the way that I don't like. And that's hard to describe... If someone asked me what this was about I'd say it was a stereotypical tale of self discovery except the character/author is never found. It's bland overall but spiked with tiny points of interest that never get followed up on or seen through. This was a pointless short story that went on too long with too many breaks. Bitter Rose indeed.
In short; this was a small and unsatisfying interruption.
Très belle lecture. Délicats, les mots du livre sont soigneusement choisis. C'est comme s'ils avaient été déposés sur les pages doucement pour créer des images au féminin pour dépeindre une réalité difficile. C'est une ode aux femmes disparues, aux femmes qu'on oublie, aux femmes qui quittent et qu'on laisse noyées dans le noir des ombres. Et de ce noir, Martine Delvaux tisse des mots presqu'à la manière de la Comtesse de Ségur: des images claires, jolies, pour contraster l'horreur.
There is a beauty in the ambiguity of this story. We witness the protagonist go from one situation and one place to another in different stages of her life yet we really get no concrete idea about her life. Her life is somewhat of a muddle and she is trying to figure it out yet quite can’t. And we as readers are along for the ride as we witness her confusion.
Good but not astonishing, yet with some impressive moments. The character's progress from city, to village, to suburb, then the greater world is relayed with the right mixture of naïveté, marvel, and dread, with the uncertainty surrounding the fate of missing or otherwise lost generating a sustained and imposing tension throughout the novella. 3.5 stars.
You'll find a long and appreciative review by Philip Marchand of Martine Delvaux's first book in English, Bitter Rose (translated by David Homel) in the National Post.