Automne…
… et mise en sommeil de ce blog… à bientôt… le meilleur à tous.
[Photo : Stéphane Barbery | Et c'est le début d'un étranglement | 31.08.08]
- Admin
Liens
- Catégories
- Archives
- novembre 2009
- septembre 2008
- juillet 2008
- juin 2008
- mai 2008
- avril 2008
- mars 2008
- février 2008
- janvier 2008
- décembre 2007
- novembre 2007
- octobre 2007
- septembre 2007
- août 2007
- juillet 2007
- juin 2007
- mai 2007
- avril 2007
- mars 2007
- février 2007
- janvier 2007
- décembre 2006
- octobre 2006
- août 2006
- avril 2006
- février 2006
- décembre 2000
- août 2000
- Fils
Powered by WordPress
septembre 21st, 2008 at 9:22
Voilà 7 ans de malheur, jour pour jour, que le Petit Page se dit que, décidément, le 21 septembre ne lui réussit pas…
Le Petit Page, qui souhaite de beaux rêves à la Belle aux bois dormants, en espérant que son sommeil ne durera pas 100 ans…
septembre 22nd, 2008 at 12:14
J’aime beaucoup la photographie.
Ne dormez pas trop longtemps, néanmoins reposez-vous bien.
septembre 22nd, 2008 at 1:21
Bonne vie…toujours…
octobre 18th, 2008 at 7:44
Eh oh, faut s’réveiller, c’est l’printemps!!!
Le Petit Page, qui gazouille, couché sur un rayon de soleil, entouré de ses copines hirondelles…qui se moquent de son nez allongé!
novembre 7th, 2008 at 3:15
Bisogna avere un buon Aututnno per sapersi risvegliare in Primavera….
novembre 23rd, 2008 at 1:59
Tout d’abord merci pour le super mot de passe!!! Même dans mes rêves un tel mot de passe…
Merci surtout et tellement pour cette émotion! Sans désir cela va sans dire.
décembre 27th, 2008 at 12:55
Bonjour
J’en suis à la moitié des picots du hérisson, page 176, je me demande qui écrit si bien et avec autant d’humour alors je flotte un peu sur le net, j’aboutis ici et j’espère sans fâcher personneque je tombe une deuxième surprise : de magnifiques photographies de Stéphane Barbery.
Là, je suis un peu béat…
Je vous souhaite un agréable séjour au Japon, je ne pense pas qu’il soit nécessaire de vous recommander Murakami et Ogawa.
Dans votre livre il y a deux mots qui reviennent assez souvent : inclination et paradigme.
Et moi ce sont mes salutations
décembre 31st, 2008 at 5:14
Re Le Herisson: je trouve le livre delicieux, spirituel et « tres pres de l’os » comme on dit en anglais. J’ai un probleme avec l’expression pallier a (Je ne peux mettre les accents) ce verbe peut etre transitif ou intransitf. Je suppose que l’idee etait l’usage erronne du verbe pallier au lieu de remedier, ce que j’ai compris page 147!
C’est un ami Americain qui m’a parle de ce livre…
Autre commentaire:
Je suis d’accord avec l’abus de « paradigme », mot plutot relie a la linguistique, plutot qu’a la philosophie. « inclination » est entendu dans le sens anglais, un juste retour des choses?
Mes compliments!
janvier 4th, 2009 at 5:32
Per fortuna la vita è costituita da individui e relazioni: sono giunto all’ »L’eleganza del riccio » tramite un’amica « coinvolta » dal misticismo e dal mistero di una cultura così lontana, nello spazio e nella percezione delle cose, come quella giapponese.
Non è paragonabile ad un cambio di stagione ma sicuramente è un invito a guardare oltre.
CC
janvier 5th, 2009 at 1:35
C’est dommage que ce blog il est en sommeil; il etait beau, belles photos !! je suis en train de lire votre livre. Je vous remercie de votre beauté !! Fiammetta
janvier 14th, 2009 at 7:42
Blog en sommeil…mais pas pas de sommeil pour moi.
Je viens de refermer « l’élégance du hérisson ».
Trop de phrases vraies, trop de lucidité, trop de pistes, trop de pensées profondes, trop de mots, trop de noms…
…alors, je ne dors plus.
Merci de m’avoir réveillé.
mars 21st, 2009 at 9:38
Après six mois d’hibernation, y aura-t-il ici un petit tour sur la Voie de l’Eveil, pour saluer l’arrivée de Haru et sakura…?
Le Petit Page, qui, dans quelques mois, ne humera ni ume, ni sakura, mais un doux bol d’air nippon…
juillet 7th, 2009 at 8:12
Je ne sais quand vous repasserez sur ce blog pour donner des nouvelles.
Quoiqu’il en soit je suis émue et heureuse d’apprendre le succès de votre (ton) deuxième roman !!
Etant une ancienne « étudiante/élève » de l’IUFM de saint Lô, je suis d’autant plus touchée que vous (tu) m’avez permis de passer deux belles années de ma vie sans encombre et de pouvoir goûter au bonheur d’aujourd’hui.
Merci et bonne continuation.
http://fanfanb86.over-blog.com/
août 11th, 2009 at 11:23
tout simplement un grand merci à Muriel barbery pour m’avoir ammené un sourire que je croyais perdu…
un livre magnifique, merci encore
août 17th, 2009 at 10:08
Votre actualité internationale est certainement foisonnante.
Donnez-nous quelques nouvelles de vos projets.
août 28th, 2009 at 6:42
Juste après avoir vu le film, j’ai eu envie de relire L’élégance du hérisson. Toujours autant d’émotions qu’avant, ce livre fait bel est bien parti de mes favoris. De même pour une Gourmandise, quel talent !
Continuez sur la voie sinueuse ( mais magnifique )de l’écriture !
septembre 2nd, 2009 at 5:14
Buongiorno e complimenti per le foto che parlano da sole…così intense ed espressive!
Aspetto di incontrare la scrittrice Muriel (che stimo molto e di cui ho letto il libro « Estasi culinarie ») al Festival della letteratura di Mantova dato che sarà presente l’11 settembre all’evento con la giornalista Caterina Soffici.
Un assaggio per Lei
septembre 3rd, 2009 at 7:57
Spero che ci saranno molti per mostrare che Muriel è un autore unico.
septembre 20th, 2009 at 11:29
tête vide, je la laisse
la sauterelle sur la figue
que je convoitais
septembre 20th, 2009 at 11:34
tête vide, je la laisse
la sauterelle sur la figue
que je convoitais
luciole discrète
à la cime du tilleul
Antarès clignote
un phare dans les pins
au sommet de la colline
la Lune montante
en toute saison
il observe le courant
le vieil arbre creux
route provençale
sous le tilleul odorant
un vieux slip troué
septembre 27th, 2009 at 10:15
« innombrables sont nos voies
incertaines nos demeures »
octobre 18th, 2009 at 11:13
New review of The Elegance of the Hedgehog post at
http://www.samizdat.com/isyn/hedgehog.html and at
http://www.samizdat.com/blog/
Loved the book. Wanted you to know. Couldn’t find a way to send you email. Here’s the review:
_______________
This book shocked and delighted me. I stayed up all night and read it in a single gulp — I couldn’t go do anything else until I finished it.
You could say that this is the story of a woman’s first love at the age of 54. You could also say that this is a series of epiphanies, in the James Joyce sense (as Wikipedia puts it “his protagonists came to
sudden recognitions that changed their view of themselves or their social condition and often sparking a reversal or change of heart.”) Or you could say that it is a series of essays on the essence of art and beauty and the meaning of life.
The perspective alternates between an intelligent self-educated 54-year-old concierge and a brilliant 12-year-old girl from a wealthy family who lives in the same building. The concierge, Madame Michel or Renee, pretends to be stupid, ignorant, and ordinary, and has so pretended her entire life. The young girl, Paloma, also disguises her brilliance, feels out of harmony with the world she lives in, and is toying with the idea of killing herself and burning the building down.
The third main character, Kakuro Ozu, is a wealthy retired Japanese gentleman. He moves into the building when Monsieur Arthens (the food critic on the sixth floor who is the central character in Barbery’s other novel “Gourmet Rhapsody”) dies. Kakuro buys the critic’s apartment and transforms it, and then transforms the lives of both Renee and Paloma. Despite their very different backgrounds, the three main characters act and think and speak in ways that resonate with one another.
Somewhat like a Virginia Woolf book, the story isn’t so much what happens as what is perceived. The three main characters all change/develop radically from their interaction with one another, but the other residents of the building see nothing.
pp. 144-145
We never look beyond our assumptions and, what’s worse, we have given up trying to meet others; we just meet ourselves. We don’t recognize each other because other people have become our permanent mirrors. if we actually realized this, if we were to become aware of the fact that we are only ever looking at ourselves in the other person, that we are alone in the wilderness, we would go crazy… As for me, I implore fate to give me the chance to see beyond myself and truly met someone.
p. 303
“The didn’t recognize me,” I say.
I came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, complete flabbergasted.
“They didn’t recognize me,” I repeat.
He stops in turn, my hand still on his arm.
“It is because they have never seen you,” he says. “I would recognize you anywhere.”
The title is a description/analysis of Renee.
p. 143
Madame Michel [Renee] has the elegance of the hedgehog: on the outside, she’s covered in quills, a real fortress, but my gut feeling is that on the inside, she has the same simple refinement as the
hedgehog: a deceptively indolent little creature, fiercely solitary — and terribly elegant.
That’s the perspective of Paloma, who deeply empathizes with the concierge and, in her own way is also a hedgehog.
Renee has a talent for discovering elegance and beauty in the everyday and ordinary. For instance, when she first visits Kakuro’s apartment, even the toilet paper dazzles her.
pp. 219-220
“The toilet paper, too, is a candidate for sainthood. I find this sign of wealth far more convincing than any Mazerati or Jaguar. What toilet paper does for people’s derrieres contributes more to
the abyss between the classes than a good many external signs. The paper at Monsieur Ozu’s abode — thick, soft, gentle and delicately perfumed — is there to lavish respect upon a part of the
body that, more than any other, is partial to respect.”
When she flushes the toilet, Mozart’s “Requiem” booms forth — literally.
I found myself underlining and returning to savor one passage after another:
pp. 164-165
If you think about it at all seriously, esthetics are really nothing more than an initiation to the Way of Consonance, a sort of Way of the Samurai applied to the intuition of authentic forms. We all have a knowledge of harmony, anchored deep within. it is this knowledge that enables us, at every instant, to apprehend quality in our lives and, on the rare occasions when everything is in perfect harmony, to appreciate it with the apposite intensity. And I am not referring to the sort of beauty that is the exclusive preserve of Art. Those who feel inspired, as I do, by the greatness of small things will pursue them too the very heart of the inessential where, cloaked in everyday attire this greatness will emerge from within a certain ordering of ordinary things and from the certainty that all is as it should be, the conviction that it is fine this way.
p. 272
… beauty consists of its own passing, just as we reach for it. it’s the ephemeral configuration of things in the moment, when you can see both their beauty and their death.
p. 250
… every painting by a Dutch master is an incarnation of Beauty, a dazzling apparition that we can only contemplate through the singular, but that opens a window onto eternity and the
timelessness of a sublime form.
p. 204
… this still life incarnates the quintessence of art, the certainty of timelessness. In the scene before our eyes — silent, without life or motion — a time exempt of projects is incarnated, perfection purloined from duration and its weary greed — pleasure without desire, beauty without will.
For art is emotion without desire.
p. 163
Perhaps the Japanese have learned that you can only savor a pleasure when you know it is ephemeral and unique: armed with this knowledge, they are yet able to weave their lives.
and describing a Japanese movie
pp. 100-101
True novelty is that which does not grow old, despite the passage of time.
The camellia against the moss of the temple, the violet hues of the Kyoto mountains, a blue porcelain cup — this sudden flowering of pure beauty at the heart of ephemeral passion: is this not
something we all aspire to? And something that, in our Western civilization, we do not know how to attain?
The contemplation of eternity within the very moment of life.
The translator, Alison Anderson, did an amazing job. Not just the ideas, but the rhythm and the phrasing (even the punctuation — check the use of colons in these passages I’m quoting) are brilliant and
memorable. And she did this with the work of an author who is obsessively in love with language in all its details.
p. 156
… grammar is an end in itself and not simply a means: it provides access to the structure and beauty of language…
p. 160
… pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language.
This book is a call to action. You don’t read it. The characters become your friends and neighbors. What happens to them happens to you. You too are changed. When I finished I had an urge to go on an
extended excursion and visit dozens of old friends who I haven’t seen in many years. Maybe I will. I certainly should. I have lots I need to do, starting now.
pp. 128-129
We have to live with the certainly that we’ll get old and that it won’t look nice or be good or feel happy. And tell ourselves that it’s now that matters: to build something, now, at any price, using all our strength. Always remember that there’s a retirement home waiting somewhere and so we have to surpass ourselves every day, make every day undying. Climb our own personal Everest and do it in such a way that every step is a little bit of eternity.
That’s what the future is for: to build the present, with real plans, made by living people.
Richard Seltzer seltzer@samizdat.com
novembre 1st, 2009 at 12:50
Hello, my name is Otilia and I have just finished reading « The Elegance of the Hedgehog ». I have made a small commentary on my blog, here it is the link – http://otylici.blogspot.com/2009/11/elegance-of-hedgehog.html
I loved the book and I would like to add your website to my blog. The photos are absolutely amazing. I would like though to ask permision for adding the link to my blog. Je voudrais utiliser votre page sur mon blog, je vous en prie. Je vous remercie de tout coeur.
My very best wishes,
Otilia
avril 29th, 2011 at 2:34
Vous etes aussi douee comme photographe que comme autrice.
‘Les sanglots longs des violons de l’automne blessent mon cœur d’une langueur monotone…’
Il faut aussi ecouter les etudes de Chopin.
Merci.
avril 29th, 2011 at 1:28
Les photographies sont de Stéphane Barbery :
http://www.flickr.com/photos/barbery/