Christophe Bataille

I started the book "Absinthe" with some doubts, although I must admit that I was quite curious, familiar with the display of a liquor store in Amsterdam that has one of its windows full of this famous drink.
In the film Moulin Rouge with Nicole Kidman, this drink appears as a cheerful intoxicant, but history has also shown that it had dangers. While in France, as reported in the book, a ban finally came about around 1915, in the Netherlands it was already banned in 1909 because in some cases it would lead to madness.
The writer shows us that absinthe held people in its power, apparently inspiring them, and takes us into a biography that revolves around the distiller Jose, interwoven with the influence he had on Jean's family. Not a high-flown story, but an attractive story in which you can almost feel the scents and colors of the absinthe rising from the pages.… (mehr)

I wanted to think about this one for a few days after reading it before writing anything about it. I couldn't really decide what I thought of it.
Unfortunately, I think I've decided that I was really unimpressed by it.
Why? The writing is lyrical and beautiful, with a mythological, fairy-tale cadence to it. The author won a prize for his debut novel, Annam (which I have not read). It kind of seems like there ought to be something significant to take away from this brief novel - like it ought to be symbolic - or at least have something to say.
But it doesn't.
Other reviewers have described it as a "fable without a moral."
But not only does it not have a "moral," it doesn't have a proper plot structure, and it doesn't give any feeling of satisfaction.
In 17th century Europe, the duke Gonzaga employs an hourmaster to wind and repair his castle's many clocks. The first hourmaster mysteriously disappears - foul play? Another is hired. He leaves after getting beat up one night. Is someone out to assure that Gonzaga has no hourmaster? We never find out. A third man is hired for the job, Arturo, and most of the book deals with this character, and his relationship to the duke. There seems to be no point at all to the early incidents in the book.
The book ends with a tragic crime being committed - but since it happens to a character who was just introduced a few pages before, the emotional impact is very limited. I suppose we are supposed to see it as a betrayal of friendship, rather than as the crime against the individual - but I don't think it really works.
There's also a narrator who is none of the characters in the story - there are some few insights into his personality, but why? Who he is doesn't reflect on the events or themes of the book at all. (Which main theme seems to be: 'the rich and powerful are selfish and untrustworthy.' Not too earthshaking a proclamation.)
Overall, this story reminded me of something one might find in a somewhat pretentious college literary magazine which was attempting (poorly) to emulate the 19th century salons of Paris.… (mehr)

Christophe Bataille a la plume sèche et claquante, comme un éclair blanc atomique. Les mots claquent, les phrases sont cinglantes. Rien de superflu dans ces mots tirés du désert, issus du sable et de la mort. Quelles phrases pour dire l'indicible, l'absurdité de cette course à l'arme atomique, mise au point pour ne pas être utilisée, si ce n'est sur des cobayes humains ? Derrière la prouesse qui fait la fierté nationale, la vie des petites gens, les malgré-nous de la puissance française, les sacrifiés du "made in France". Christophe Bataille s'est bien documenté sur cet épisode souterrain de l'indépendance militaire de la France, s'appuyant sur des témoignages et des ouvrages dont on trouve la liste en fin d'ouvrage. Référence plus discrète, celle à TS Eliot et à sa "Waste land", qui imprègne en nappe phréatique toutes les pages de l'auteur. Bataille écrit page 32 : "Avril est le plus cruel des mois. Là où je suis, il n'y a pas de tombe, pas de lieu, mais des fleurs sur la terre morte". Eliot écrit dans "Terre vaine" : "Avril est le plus cruel des mois, il engendre / Des lilas qui jaillissent de la terre morte, il mêle / Souvenance et désir, il réveille / Par ses pluies de printemps les racines inertes". Reggane n'est que le lieu de la mort et de la désolation.… (mehr)