Le chant du poulet sous vide

by Lucie Rico

"Quand on aime les poulets, on aime tout d’eux. La gentillesse qu’on leur donne, ils nous la rendent en sortant du four."
Citadine et végétarienne, Paule doit retourner à la ferme familiale qu’elle avait quittée des années plus tôt. Contrainte de reprendre l’élevage de poulets, elle voit grandir son attachement pour les volailles et imagine alors un projet d’exploitation hors normes...

Genres: Fiction, Animals, Contemporary, Roman, School, French Literature, Literary Fiction

256 pages, Paperback

First published March 1, 2020

Reviews

[lark benobi · Rating 4 out of 5]

As someone who has spent a good deal of time with domesticated birds (in my case, racing pigeons) I loved the way Lucie Rico gave space for her protagonist Paule to delight in her chickens, to recognize each of them as individuals with their own personalities and quirks, and to honor them for their unique contributions before she slaughters them for market. It's a confounding miracle to me that birds, and I imagine all living things to some extent, really do have their own individual ways of being in this world. Ok, I'm not sure about sheep. I hear they are a little one-note. But birds, yes. There is so much to enjoy in this novel for this reason alone, that it dares to suggest how creatures with bird-brains somehow have an individuated glorious uniqueness to be celebrated. I can imagine a god that has told birds each feather on their heads is counted. Rico takes this premise to the furthest possible, ridiculously dumbfounding extreme, and I was here for it.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you were planning on cooking a chicken dinner any time soon, do it now before you read Fowl Eulogies.

To say this book is imaginative and absurd is an understatement. It’s a tour de force, and I promise, nothing like anything you’ve already read. Imagine this premise: a vegetarian city-dweller named Paule Rojas fulfills her dying mother’s last request and takes over the family chicken farm. While killing is a fact of life at the farm, Paule is determined to give each of their short lives meaning by writing a brief bio on the label that goes with each chicken she sells at the market. In little time, this differentiator – giving consumers insight into the chickens they digest – begins to capture attention.

But creating a new cultural norm is just the beginning. Soon she attracts the attention of a supermarket industrialist, who sees a goldmine in selling Paule’s chickens for mass consumption. She accepts his partnership, and a marketing campaign ensues. The outcome is not pretty.

Interspersed with dark humor, cringe-worthy and even brutal descriptions, surprising warmth and heart wrenching insight, the book does nothing less than explore the tenuous connection between poultry farmers and the consumers they serve. The eulogies alone are worth the price of admission.

I loved this bred-to-kill chicken dystopia and the originality behind this premise. I owe gratitude to World Editions for allowing me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review.

[Стефани Витанова · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Песента на вакуумираното пиле" е една от онези книги, които четете чисто изследователски, заради характеровите особености на персонажите, а не за удоволствие или защото очаквате да ви хареса.

След смъртта на майка си Полин се завръща в семейната ферма, където я чака наследство от триста пилета. Пилета, за които трябва да се грижи, но трябва и да убие и продаде.

Привързана към своите пернати, всяко със своето име и индивидуалност, Полин решава да им отдаде посмъртно почит с кратък разказ за живота им. И така, към вакуумираната опаковка на пилето за продан, се добавя неговата ръкописна биография-епитафия.

Книгата е особена. Брутална бих казала. Няма красота в нея. Остра, лишена от всякаква топлота. Изреченията се точат без читателят да може да си вземе глътка въздух между тях.

Романът е силно смущаващ. Засяга темата майка-дъщеря, съпружески отношения, консуматорството, странна почит към животните, която от любов и грижа прелива в диво наслаждение от собственоръчното им убиване. Омразата в малката общност.

Трудна за преглъщане книга. Психологически и нравствено любопитна, но не бих препоръчала. Трябва особена нагласа за прочита й.

[mel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Paule grew up on a chicken farm. Now she lives in the city, and she is a vegetarian. When her mother dies, Paule has to take care of her family home and farm and decides she will continue with the family tradition. But she is innovative in the process and writes a eulogy for each chicken she sells on the market. I love how Paule treats animals with respect and names each individual animal.

Fowl Eulogies is a bit quirky novel. I usually like this in novels, and I expected to love it, but something didn’t quite work for me. Otherwise, I’m still glad I read it. It will definitely stay in my mind, but I wish I liked it more.

Thanks to World Editions for the advanced copy and this opportunity! This is a voluntary review and all opinions are my own.

[johnny ♡ · Rating 5 out of 5]

lucie rico’s “fowl eulogies” explores the relationship between those who farm and the animals they slaughter. when paule’s mother falls ill and passes away, paule is left in charge of a poultry farm with about three hundred chickens. she builds a relationship with each chicken, lovingly naming them and taking care of them. she notices things about them that other people don’t, and writes eulogies when they die naturally or are killed. paule sells them at a small market. when the opportunity comes to move the chickens to an industrial facility, paule agrees to it. this is the story of what happens when profits are put over the well-being of animals.

this novel struck a chord with me. i used to be an animal science major before i was an english major, and i switched because i could not handle exploiting animals for profit. industrial farming is absolutely horrendous, and the small farms you believe are organic are actually factory farms. watching paule lose her humanity and empathy was particularly heart wrenching. this is a phenomenal novel about not only the human psyche, but animal rights. the prose is extremely well written and the eulogies are poetic and emotionally driven.

thank you so much to netgalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review!

[Sookie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't expect industrial chicken keeping book to be funny with erratic humor. While there is an underlying tragedy with eulogies and poetic obituaries for a dead bird, it celebrates the life along the way.

Thank you to Netgalley and World Editions for providing me with a free copy of this e-book in exchange for an honest review.

[Maja Palm · Rating 4 out of 5]

Riktigt jävla konstig, loved it

[charlie medusa · Rating 5 out of 5]

au début je me suis dit oui bon ce sera un simple 3 étoiles puis au milieu j'étais comme un chouette 4 étoiles en fin de compte et puis parvenue à la dernière page je me suis rendue à l'évidence que serait mon 5 étoiles car quelle raison valable avais-je de soustraire la moindre étoile à cette histoire si exactement, si pleinement parvenue au bout de ce qu'elle est ??? aucune je ne suis personne et Lucie Rico ne serait-ce que pour le fait d'avoir créé le concept de "scénariste de biographie de poulet" mérite chacune de ces 5 étoiles

c'est un formidable merveilleux fou roman précisément parce qu'il n'est PAS fou. je m'explique. si je vous décrivais l'intrigue en détail (ce que je ne ferai pas parce que contrairement à pas mal de livres dont je trouve que le spoilage n'enlève pas grand-chose à la lecture, celui-ci gagne vraiment à être découvert à l'aveugle) vous vous diriez : "c'est fou." alors que non ça n'est pas fou du tout. c'est plein de bon sens. du point de vue de l'héroïne en tout cas. tout tombe sous le sens. tout obéit à une logique bonne et éthique qu'on ne peut pas ne pas suivre. c'est très réel. c'est tout. et ça aboutit à une fin dont on peut trouver que c'est dommage qu'elle ait lieu mais en se trouvant également incapable de la juger immorale car c'est le simple aboutissement d'un processus de pensée qu'on n'a pu qu'approuver tout du long en s'ancrant dans les valeurs morales et le système de pensée de l'héroïne. également l'écriture sert à merveille le livre, en restant d'une simplicité constante, directe et nette et précise dans ce qu'elle décrit. ça aurait tué le livre que l'écriture tente des effets de style ou de lyrisme, et je suis trop heureuse de voir que l'autrice a trouvé le PARFAIT ton pour équilibrer la dinguerie des proportions que prend cette histoire, et la sinistre et indéniable logique qui motive chacune de ses progressions. hyper hyper intéressant aussi sur ce que l'on pardonne aux femmes et sur les bons meurtres VS ceux que l'on va juger indicibles. bref dingue livre !!!!!!!!!!

[Giordana · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can't decide whether I liked this book or not... it was such a strange story, with a very strange main character - I found it hard to actually like her. Yet the writing was excellent and the plot sort of made sense despite being a bit whacky. Not sure I would recommend it though. A bit of a question mark for me!

[Ρένα Λούνα · Rating 5 out of 5]

H φράση «είμαστε οι αντιθέσεις μας» μου αρέσει τόσο διότι άσχετα με το τι εννοείς (τι ωραία η πολυδιαστατικότητα σου! / τι αδιανόητο roller coaster η ασυνέπειά σου!), ο άλλος άνθρωπος γνέφει ικανοποιημένος μπροστά στο τσιτάτο της επιδερμικής αποδοχής.

Στην ιστορία των κοτόπουλων που τραγουδούν πρωταγωνιστεί η χορτοφάγος Πολ που σκοτώνει κοτόπουλα. Τι;

Ο θάνατος της μητέρας της θα την αναγκάσει να αφήσει το Παρίσι και τον αρχιτέκτονα σύντροφό της Λουί. Επιστρέφει στην επαρχία, στο αγρόκτημα. Η «κληρονομιά» της είναι το κοπάδι από κοτόπουλα και το ότι πρέπει να σφάξει τον Τεοντόρ, τον μονόφθαλμο. Ήταν να μη γίνει η αρχή: η Πολ ενώ δεν τρώει κρέας εισέρχεται στον ρόλο της μητέρας των κοτόπουλων και στον ρόλο του δήμιού τους. Περνάει όλο τον χρόνο μαζί τους, τα μελετάει στοργικά, τα συμπονάει και με κάποια από αυτά που δένεται περισσότερο, βλέπουν μαζί τηλεόραση, μοιράζονται και το ίδιο μαξιλάρι.

Ο δύσκολος ρόλος της θανάτωσης των «παιδιών της», ώστε να τα πουλήσει αργότερα στην λαϊκή αγορά, γίνεται πιο ελαφρύς εφόσον γράφει το επικήδειό του κάθε κοτόπουλου. Λέει πως στον θάνατο συνηθίζεται να ξεχνιούνται τα άσχημα και γράφουμε λίγα καλά λόγια για τις αρετές του νεκρού. Κανείς μπορεί να διακρίνει πως η τεφροδόχος με τις στάχτες ��ης μητέρας της, ακολουθούν επιβλητικά την αφήγηση, όμως η Πολ αφοσιώνεται στις μικρές έξυπνες ιστορίες της που καταπραΰνουν τη διαδικασία της σφαγής των κοτόπουλων. Η Πολ σκοτώνει, αλλά όχι όπως οι άλλοι: σκοτώνει τρυφερά, δημιουργεί μια προσεκτική συνθήκη καλοσύνης και ο ρόλος της αποκτά ένα ξεχωριστό ενδιαφέρον. Ποιος μπορεί να καταλάβει τις ιδιαιτερότητες της Πολ; Ποιος μπορεί να δώσει αποδοχή στον εκκεντρικό άνθρωπο; Πιο συχνά παρά σπάνια, αυτός που μπορεί να κερδίσει από αυτή την εκκεντρικότητα.

Ο επιχειρηματίας Φερνάν, φαίνεται να ενθουσιάζεται με τον προσωπικό τρόπο της Πολ, με τον τρόπο που προσεγγίζει τον κύκλο ζωής του κοτόπουλου το οποίο θα καταλήξει στοιβαγμένο στον πάγκο της λαϊκής. Της προτείνει συνεργασία και κάπου εκεί όλα αλλάζουν.

Η Lucie Rico ήταν μια πολύ ευχάριστη έκπληξη, με λέξεις ενδιαφέρουσες και ακριβείς, κάτι που αποδείχθηκε αναγκαίο προκειμένου να πλησιάσει ο αναγνώστης τις αντιθέσεις της Πολ.
Προσθέτω και το εξής «ψ» που νομίζω «κολλάει» ωραία: Ο ψυχολόγος Rogers (1951) ανέπτυξε την προσωποκεντρική προσέγγιση στην οποία ανήκει και ο όρος της «ασυμφωνίας». Ένα ψυχικά «υγιές» άτοµο έχει τη δυνατότητα να αφοµοιώνει τις εµπειρίες του και να τις ενσωµατώνει στη δοµή του εαυτού του, κάτι που τον καθιστά σε συµφωνία µε τον εαυτό του, όμως εάν οι εµπειρίες του ή µέρος αυτών, από την αλληλεπίδρασή του µε τον υπόλοιπο κόσµο, δεν βρίσκονται σε «συμφωνία» µε την εικόνα που έχει ο ίδιος για τον εαυτό του, έρχεται σε κατάσταση «ασυµφωνίας», κάτι που σε προχωρηµένο στάδιο µπορεί να είναι υπαίτιο στο να αναπτύξει το άτοµο µια µορφή ψυχοπαθολογίας.

Μου αρέσει η συζήτηση περί «ασυμφωνίας» διότι ενώ δεν συμφωνώ με τα περισσότερα του Rogers, εδώ κατάφερε να προσεγγίσει με πολύ απλό τρόπο, πως εάν το περιβάλλον δεν μας καθρεφτίσει πίσω μερικές από τις κομβικές θέσεις / αξίες, που στήνουν την ταυτότητά μας, τότε όσο δυνατοί και να μαστε, μέσα μας θα επέλθουν ραγίσματα. Το πού πάμε κάθε μέρα για δουλειά, τι φίλους έχουμε, ποιος είναι ο σύντροφός μας – όλα αυτά μας «χτίζουν» και μας «γκρεμίζουν» εξίσου, εάν το μέσα μας διαφωνεί. Κάποιοι αγκαλιάζουν τον εαυτό τους κι άλλοι τον φιλάνε τυπικά και τον στέλνουν κάθε μέρα στον πόλεμο.

Η Πολ μού έφερε αυτό το παράδειγμα στο μυαλό, μιας κι ενώ η συγγραφέας έμεινε πιστή στην αποσύνδεση της από τα ατελείωτα δυσάρεστα γεγονότα γύρω από τον θάνατο, ο αναγνώστης νιώθει την ψυχικής της δόνηση κάτω από τη λεπτή ειρωνεία.

Το πένθος της Πολ κρύβεται πίσω από τα ράμφη και τα φτερά, αλλά κανείς καταλαβαίνει πως βρίσκεται όλο και πιο μόνη, όλο και πιο εγκαταλειμμένη και σαν ακέφαλο κοτόπουλο σκάει κάποιες φορές στον τοίχο πριν σωριαστεί για τα καλά.

«Ο Γιαν διηγείται, πολύ δυνατά, την εργασιακή του ημέρα ανατρέχοντας στα ευρήματά του για τις βιογραφίες. Υποστηρίζει ότι τα κοτόπουλα είναι αστέρες ηλιθιότητας, όπως το θέλει η φήμη τους. Είδε με τα μάτια του ένα να μαδάει τα φτερά του. Η Πολ πασχίζει να πάρει τον λόγο: είναι αδύνατον, αν κάποιο κοτόπουλο επιβάλει στο εαυτό του τέτοιου τύπου κακοποιήσεις, σημαίνει πως ψάχνει για κάποιο παράσιτο. Τονίζει τη λέξη «παράσιτο». Πολύ θα ήθελε να δει αν ο Γιαν θα μπορούσε να κάνει το ίδιο, να τραβήξει, με τα δυο του χέρια ή με το στόμα του, ένα τσιμπούρι κολλημένο πάνω του.»

[Veerle · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is no rulebook for grief. Vegetarian Paule returns to the village she grew up in when her mother dies. She continues her mother's chicken business after her mother asks her on her death bed to kill Théodore, the one-eyed chicken.

Paule develops a taste for killing her chickens after making sure they have a satisfying life on the farm in which they get the opportunity to self-actualise. To make up for slaughtering them, she writes beautiful and funny eulogies about who they were. Fernand, a businessman, discovers her at the market and convinces her to embark upon a journey of urban farming where the chickens will lead an equally blissful life.

But is the city a place where chickens can belong? And where does Paule belong? This is a book that will resonate with all of us who felt out of place in the countryside when growing up. This is a book about the struggle to reconcile your roots and your dreams of another life. Because your roots keep turning up whether you like it or not.

I loved this book because it was absurd, funny and unsettling at the same time. You keep wondering whether Paule is okay, yet you’re laughing at the human level she’s interacting with the chickens. Those chickens even get a doll house I could only dream of as a child

I chuckled quite a bit with the eulogies. They were my favourite bits of the book. Lucie Rico is an excellent observer of chickens. My parents have always had 2 or 3 chickens and I could totally imagine one of the biographies was about one of them.

Thank you Net Galley and World Editions for this great book!

[Kentucky · Rating 2 out of 5]

Really a 1.5 star, I was so disappointed with this book.
I was really excited to read it, as I loved the premise and wanted to read a story from a vegan/vegetarian perspective. But this book did not deliver.

I'll start with some of the things I did like about this book:
* The writing and prose is well done, though it did feel a little "pretentious", like the book thought it's writing was smarter than the reader.
* While I hated the characters and story, I did always want to pick up the book and find out what was going to be said next, because it was so absurd.

Overall, I was not convinced by anything in this book. The characters feel flat and lifeless; particularly the main character Paule. I was never convinced of her motives or personality.
She claims to love chickens and feels an intimate connection to them, but I rarely saw her actually connect with the chickens. I will say that the second act of the book does improve on this element, especially with her relationship with Aval, but it was too little too late and I was already sick of this character.
I was especially disgusted with some of her attempts to "spice up the lives" of the chickens. Giving your chickens alcohol does not seem very loving or safe. Nor is driving them in a super fast car and slamming on the brakes, thus breaking a chicken's neck. I genuinely felt like Paule abused her chickens on several accounts and this did not reflect any sort of "care" for the animals.

While I would accept a morally dubious main character, in fact I love them, I was never under the impression that the audience was supposed to dislike Paule. It felt like we were always meant to root for her.

Beyond a flat main character, I also felt that many of the story's plot lines were rushed or did not make sense. To start, Paule's motivation to write the lives of these chickens feels like it came out of nowhere. She is asked to kill one of her mother's chickens as a dying wish, but after doing this, she loses all of her prior reservations about killing chickens and decides she must write their stories. There is no progression to this at all. Additionally, this book did not succeed in making me feel connected to the chickens. While there are several biographies intersected between chapters, I almost never meet the chickens described, and thus, do not believe what is written about the chickens. I find it very hard to believe that a chicken "longs for death" based on a biography written by an already poorly written character.

I could go on forever about all the stupid decisions Paule makes, like giving Nick a chicken named after him, but I particularly took issue with the ending. While I definitely predicted Fernand would abuse Paule's business, I thought Paule's reaction to this discovery was very sudden. I think her decision to kill all the chickens and Louis would make more sense if there was more buildup to her discovery, rather than the last 15 pages, and if her character was developed more.
I also believe the book was attempting to challenge how consumers validate their decision to eat meat by feeling connected to their food, however, I believe this is explored too late in the novel and is not dedicated enough time to in order to make an impact.

In general, I found this book incredibly unbelievable even though I tried very hard to enjoy it. I am still looking for a book the provides a well written vegan/vegetarian perspective, so hopefully I can find something in the future.

Edit: I just remembered there was also a very sudden SA scene that came out of nowhere, and was also not treated as SA. Why was this in there and why was it not addressed as a bad thing.

[Andy Weston · Rating 3 out of 5]

After the splendid Of Cattle and Men comes this, a similarly themed fable for the ethical carnivore, but this time with a much lighter dose of horror.

When her mother dies, 36 year old vegetarian, Paule, returns to her childhood rural home from the city to deal with the chicken farm. Her initial thoughts of selling up are put on hold when she discovers that the work she feared so much, is actually quite enjoyable. She gives the chickens loving attention, names them, lets them roam the house, and with reverence, then dispatches them. She then writes a few sentences as an obituary which she attaches to the vacuum packed produce that heads to the shops. Her caring approach is loved by customers.

This is a quirky and fun short read that deals with some more serious topics, those of relationships, grief, and amidst it all, violence.
It makes an excellent soul mate to Ana Paula Maia’s aforementioned, Of Cattle and Men, as the latter is far darker.

[endrju · Rating 4 out of 5]

Soundtrack: Orion Rigel Dommisse - Chickens

I have been reading the novel from the point of view of the ahuman, as Patricia MacCormack would put it, which as a conceptual practice aims to liberate the animal from the human in absolute terms. Seen from that point of view, whether chickens are individualized (through naming, biography, eulogy) and supposedly properly "grown", or killed on an industrialized scale where individuality is a simulacrum as later in the novel, matters little. Both approaches are equally detrimental to the animal life, and only serve humans. The biting humor and oftentimes rather uncomfortable turns of phrase underline cul-de-sac of vegetarian/carnivorous dichotomy when faced with the real of animal exploitation. The dichotomy's all too human.

[Miki · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I first discovered Fowl Eulogies it sounded so interesting that I couldn’t resist requesting it from NetGalley!

Paule’s mother owns a farm on which she raises chickens for slaughter. Paule is a vegetarian who, although she feels a closeness to the chickens, becomes obsessed with killing them once her mother forces her to kill her most beloved chicken Théodore.

After Paule’s mother passes away, the chicken farm becomes Paule’s. As Paule writes eulogies for the chickens she raises, kills, and tries to sell at the market, she attracts the attention of an entrepreneur, and their relationship will forever change her life and the lives of her chickens. Fowl Eulogies is at times humorous, devastating, infuriating, touching, heartbreaking, and disturbing. For Rico to be able to evoke those feelings in her readers is impressive!

Perhaps unsurprisingly, what I enjoyed most were the eulogies. But I think that Paule’s relationship with the chickens and her character arc were also what I loved about this publication. It’s easy to feel frustrated with Paule’s decisions because, as an outsider, we can see how manipulative and terrible some of the people in her life are. But her wholesomeness and her ability to look past others’ flaws is admirable: she believes in others—even if they’re flawed, especially because they’re flawed.

Even though this is a shorter work of fiction, Rico does a great job of presenting readers with a complete story of loss, rediscovery, connections across species, consumerism, capitalism, migrations to cities, animal rights, and how to prevent senseless death.

If you enjoy reading about relationships between people and other animals, the repercussions of consumerism on animal rights, humorous eulogies about chickens, or how one woman attempts to build a life for herself after her dominating mother passes away, then this book is for you!

Also, this translation is fantastic, so Daria Chernysheva deserves to be praised as well! I can see how a poorly translated version of this book could have been a disaster. Instead, Chernysheva did Rico’s story justice and, more importantly, gave it heart and soul!

I highly recommend this shorter work of fiction and hope many others pick it up and enjoy its quirkiness! Many thanks to World Editions and NetGalley for allowing me to read an ARC of Fowl Eulogies in exchange for an honest review!

[Marina · Rating 2 out of 5]

No es un libro que hubiera elegido para leer voluntariamente. La historia no me parece nada extraordinario, pero Paule, su amor por los pollos y finalmente el desenlace al que le lleva esta obsesión me parecieron cosas que "admirar" en cuanto al arco de corrupción del personaje.

[Elin Isaksson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Haven't been able to stop talking about this book and immediately gifting it to a friend after finshing it a couple of days ago. It's a super unique and wacky story.

After her mother's death, Paule returns to her mother's small chicken farm to kill her mother's favorite chicken. When she does this she decides to eulogize the chicken and stick it on the packaging to sell at the market. From there the story goes and it's a wonderful satire and exploration on marketing, authenticity, death, life, and lots and lots of chickens and eulogies.

[Grace Rust · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this — definitely made it onto my favorite books list

[Sofiahallstn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Men en riktigt stark trea!

[Anika · Rating 4 out of 5]

A chicken dystopia written with lots of heart . . . and brutality. Fun, absurd, and disturbing, this made me glad to be a vegetarian and also made me want to go give my three urban backyard chickens extra treats and cuddles.

[Pilar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Category: weird girl books I’m not cool enough to understand

Is it possible to emotionally fuck a chicken?

[Kate File · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un sujet particulier pour une histoire étrange et bien ficelée.

[Jax · Rating 5 out of 5]

Paule failed to give a eulogy for her mother. She wrote one for a one-eyed chicken instead: Theodore, the one she killed to honor her mother’s last wish. She will linger on the poultry farm, an old and unprofitable one that now belongs to her, trying to conquer something, she’s not clear what. But killing and selling Theodore is the first step. Then there are others whose eulogies are packaged with them and sold at the local market. The villagers aren’t pleased with Paule’s return or the eulogies. They will make this known in ways that are too threatening to ignore. She leaves the farm but will later question if someone else was behind the threats. Paule’s attachment to her roots, to the chickens, and to the need to honor their deaths will lead to an unraveling, an explosive twist that readers won’t see coming.

This debut novel by French writer Lucie Rico was awarded both the Ecology Prize and the Cheval Blanc Literary Award.

Thank you to World Editions and NetGalley for allowing me to read this eARC.

[Sylvia Barker · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book that I can best describe as quirky. It is about a vegetarian who returns to her hometown after the death of her mother, a chicken farmer and must begin running the family business. Needless to say, she runs into some ethical issues and develops a rather unusual way of coping with the business of the slaughter.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[Maggie Rotter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Humorous, horrifying and challenging all at once, Fowl Eulogies should make even the most devoted meat eater think twice. Lucie Rico has created an unlikely and at times unlikeable hero who finds the final solution to animal cruelty. Included is an off-kilter love affair - actually several if you count the chickens. You'll love it or hate it, but it's short and very well written, so might as well give it a go.

[Shannon Hong · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book until the very end. So engaging in the lives of chicken in the life of paule, and ofc rural France, market dynamics, village politics. Life and fear and capitalism. The end annoyed me — kind of a cop out honestly.

[Madame F · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lucie Ricos „Die Ballade vom vakuumverpackten Hähnchen“ ist eines dieser Bücher, bei denen man nach dem Zuschlagen nicht sofort weiß, ob man sich gerade literarisch bereichert oder psychisch angegriffen fühlt. Wahrscheinlich beides. Ich habe selten einen Roman gelesen, der mich so konsequent abgestoßen hat und den ich gleichzeitig so entschieden als gelungen anerkennen musste.
Denn vieles an dieser Lektüre war für mich kaum auszuhalten. Die Sprache ist roh, schmierig, körperlich, oft absichtlich unerquicklich. Selbst die kurzen Sexszenen wirken nicht intim oder erotisch, sondern wie zwei Stücke organisches Material, die aufeinanderprallen. Fleisch auf Fleisch. Und genau darin liegt vermutlich die Konsequenz dieses Romans: Rico verweigert jede Form von ästhetischer Beschönigung. Sie beschreibt Menschen, Tiere, Konsum und Begehren in derselben Materialität. Haut, Muskeln, Sekrete, verarbeitete Körper. Die Grenze zwischen menschlichem Körper und Tierkörper wird sprachlich immer poröser.
Das passt perfekt zum zentralen Thema des Buches: unserer radikalen Entfremdung von Nahrung und Gewalt. Der Roman führt vor, wie selektiv menschliche Empathie funktioniert. Aval, das Huhn, darf Haustier, Persönlichkeit, beinahe Familienmitglied werden. Die anderen Hühner bleiben namenlose zukünftige Produkte, bald vakuumverpackte Kadaver im Kühlregal. Gerade diese Gleichzeitigkeit aus echter Zuneigung und völliger Verdrängung macht das Buch so unangenehm treffend. Es zeigt keinen abstrakten moralischen Widerspruch, sondern einen sehr alltäglichen: Menschen lieben Tiere individuell, aber selten kollektiv. Der eigene Hund schläft im Bett, während Millionen andere Tiere als anonyme Ware gedacht werden.
Besonders stark fand ich dabei die Idee, Hühner mit Biografien auszustatten. Das wirkt zunächst absurd-komisch, entwickelt aber schnell eine verstörende Schärfe. Denn der Roman zeigt, wie leicht Gewalt akzeptabel wird, sobald sie emotional richtig verpackt ist. Nicht die Ausbeutung verschwindet, sondern nur ihre schlechte PR. Die Tiere bekommen Geschichten, Charaktereigenschaften, Narrative. Plötzlich erscheint das System nicht humaner, sondern nur besser erzählt. Rico beschreibt damit präzise eine Gegenwart, in der Konsum moralisch kuratiert wird: glückliche Tiere auf Verpackungen, handschriftartige Schriftarten, Regionalitätsromantik, emotionales Storytelling als Beruhigungsmittel für das Gewissen.
Damit hängt auch das Thema des Whitewashings zusammen, das sich durch den ganzen Roman zieht. Sprache produziert Haltung. Kommunikation entscheidet darüber, wie Gewalt wahrgenommen wird. Der Roman interessiert sich weniger dafür, ob etwas grausam ist, sondern dafür, wie diese Grausamkeit erzählt, vermarktet und konsumierbar gemacht wird. Die eigentliche Ware scheint irgendwann nicht mehr das Fleisch zu sein, sondern das Gefühl, ein „guter“ Konsument zu bleiben.
Und mitten darin steht Hannah. Mit ihr hatte ich persönlich große Schwierigkeiten. Ihre Naivität, ihre Passivität und eine gewisse Lebensuntüchtigkeit haben mich über weite Strecken eher erschöpft als berührt. Gleichzeitig glaube ich nicht, dass das ein Fehler der Figur ist. Hannah funktioniert weniger wie eine klassische literarische Persönlichkeit mit psychologischer Souveränität, sondern eher wie eine offene Oberfläche, auf die Erwartungen, Manipulationen und Marktlogiken projiziert werden. Gerade ihre Orientierungslosigkeit macht sie verwertbar. Sie wird zur perfekten Figur für eine Welt, in der Authentizität selbst längst Ware geworden ist.
Überhaupt liegt die Stärke des Romans darin, dass er sich jeder moralischen Reinigung verweigert. Viele Bücher über Tierleid, Kapitalismus oder Konsum führen am Ende zu irgendeiner Form von Erkenntnis oder Läuterung. Die Ballade vom vakuumverpackten Hähnchen tut das nicht. Das Buch lässt einen nicht klüger oder moralisch besser zurück, sondern eher beschmutzt. Es gibt keine Katharsis, keine emotionale Entlastung, keinen Moment, in dem man sich bequem auf die richtige Seite schlagen könnte. Alles bleibt klebrig, unangenehm, widersprüchlich.
Und trotzdem, oder vielleicht gerade deshalb, halte ich den Roman für literarisch bemerkenswert. Lucie Rico schreibt kein Buch, das gefallen will. Sie schreibt eines, das sich wie ein schlecht belüfteter Schlachtraum im Kopf festsetzt. Die Zumutung ist hier kein Nebeneffekt, sondern Methode. Dass ich die Sprache oft nicht mochte, manche Szenen am liebsten übersprungen hätte und mich die Hauptfigur regelmäßig frustriert hat, spricht deshalb nicht gegen das Buch, sondern eher für seine Konsequenz.
Es war keine Lektüre, die ich genossen habe. Eher eine literarische Zwangsernährung. Aber eine, die genau wusste, was sie tut.

[David Karlsson · Rating 4 out of 5]

4+

I samband med sin mors död återvänder Paule till sitt barndomshem på landet där modern fram till sin död fortsatt med att föda upp, slakta och sälja kycklingar. Paule är alltsedan hennes mamma dödade hennes favoritkyckling som barn vegetarian och det är därför med viss tvekan hon möter sin mammas sista önskan: att döda Théodore, den kyckling som modern hållit av mest mot slutet.

I sin sorg dras Paule sakta tillbaka in i moderns värld. Istället för att sälja eller avveckla verksamheten börjar hon att bedriva den, men med den förändringen att hon för varje kyckling hon dödar skriver en biografi över dess liv och egenheter. Det visar sig vara en praktik som möts på olika sätt av människorna runt henne ...

Som vegan sedan snart trettio år tillbaka älskar jag sättet som denna roman belyser det absurda i köttindustrin, där just "produktionen" av kycklingar hör till det mest bisarra. Bara i Sverige dödas över hundra miljoner kycklingar varje år (hundra miljoner!), i världen 73 miljarder (73 miljarder!). Det är svindlande siffror* och att ge varje kyckling en biografi är såklart en omöjlighet, vilket Paule också tvingas upptäcka.

Hade det här bara varit ett debattinlägg kring djurrätt hade det dock knappast varit en särskilt lyckad roman, men här ryms lyckligtvis mycket mer. Sorgen efter modern är central, där en inte helt enkel relation kan anas. Att Paules namn ligger nära franskans ord för just kyckling (poulet) är såklart inte en slump och tillsammans med de erotiska undertoner som finns i boken öppnar det för att närmast bli en psykoanalytikers våta dröm.

Jag kommer att tänka på Olga Tokarczuks "Styr din plog över de dödas ben", även den en fantastisk reflektion över vår relation till djuren med en huvudperson vars livsval står i kontrast med omgivningens förväntningar. En varm rekommendation med andra ord.

* Från 2022, orkar inte googla så noga men poängen går nog fram ändå.

[Barbara Powell · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is equal parts a bizarre love story and twisted horror story and I can’t decide which part I liked more. As someone who has chickens as pets (and for the eggs) this was a wild ride for me.
Paule has come back home from loving her life in the city with her boyfriend Louis to tend to her mothers last wishes after her death. Paule has to handle the farm’s needs and the chickens that love there. Once Paule gets there and amongst them and has to deal with the butchering, she finds herself noticing their various personalities and quirks and sets out to write biographies for each of the birds she is killing. She does manage to attach to a couple of them that she can’t let herself murder, but for the most part, she gets to know them, then writes about them and then kills and sells them at the local market. Then her uncle comes and introduces her to someone who sees the potential in what she is doing. It’s a niche idea, but one he thinks could take off. As the business grows, Paula’s disdain grows with it. And darkness grows all around her.
This is super imaginative and absurd and I am into it. There’s dark humor, cringe-worthy descriptions of the birds mixed with some heart wrenching insight into farming and consumerism. This dystopian tale is one I won’t forget anytime soon.
Thanks to World Editions and NetGalley for this eArc in exchange for my review.

[Lovis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Högläsningsbok 2

Det här är en väldigt annorlunda bok. Läsaren får följa Paule som vid hennes mammas död flyttar tillbaka till barndomshemmet som råkar vara en hönsgård. Paule är vegetarian men hon har lovat sin mamma att döda Théodore, mammans favoritkyckling tillika följeslagare. Detta blir en vändpunkt i Paules liv och hon tvingas ta itu med hennes relation till mamman samtidigt som hon måste bearbeta sorgen, något som leder till att Paule utvecklar en väldigt nära relation med hönsen...

Det som är mest kul men också tankeväckande med boken är Paules relation till kycklingarna. Hon ser kycklingarna som husdjur och tar tillochmed in de i hennes hus ett tag. Det får en att tänka på var gränsen mellan husdjur och mat går, om det ens finns en sådan? Utan att spoila för mycket så väcker frågan också tanken om man etiskt kan massproducera kött. Vad händer när man tappar en relation till maten på ens tallrik? En mycket rolig och tankeväckande roman.

Trots bokens roliga och tankeväckande sidor så kände jag att det saknades något. Slutet kom väldigt plötsligt och jag kände inte riktigt att de trådar som fanns knöts ihop alls. Ganska öppet slut, men så hade det kunna vara även med ihopknutna trådar. Jag tyckte också att den blev rätt seg ett tag vilket tog läslusten lite.

Rekommenderar till dig som vill ha en kort och tankeväckande bok som inte kräver alltför mycket av hjärnan. Den är lite feelgood trots allt.