Némirovski Irène met thanks to this little masterpiece entitled Dance, outlined earlier in this blog. In this book I was dazzled his way to draw the characters, their way of showing the rotten and sick of some relationships, all in a novel breve de poco más de 100 páginas. Pues bien, siendo esta Suite Francesa un proyecto mucho más ambicioso, creo que, a pesar de que se lee con cierto interés, queda por detrás de la obra antes mencionada. El proyecto de la novela comprendía cinco partes, pero la fatalidad hizo que Irène solamente pudiera terminar las dos primeras. En 1942 fue detenida y deportada al campo de concentración de Auschwitz, donde la escritora murió en agosto de ese mismo año. Poco después su marido corría la misma suerte. Fueron pues sus hijas quienes, sesenta años después, sacaron a la luz el manuscrito de esta inacabada obra y la publicaron en Francia en el año 2004. Como le ocurría to Dance, where the protagonist's relationship with his mother was inspired by the real relationship between Némirovsky and her mother-a relationship difficult and bleak as we know, in this work we find, if not glimpses of life Irene, a portrait of French society of the forties in which she lived. The book begins with a first part, entitled Storm in June, where we follow the adventures of a group of characters who decide to leave Paris before the Nazi occupation imminent, and that will show on that tour its miseries and its virtues, taking the worst and the best of themselves, as often happens in such circumstances. The Péricand are a family of high French society must give up their luxuries and survive in a rural environment saturated with exiles who, like them, fleeing cities were falling into the hands of the Germans. The writer Gabriel Corte and Florence, his partner will be real trouble for some food to the mouth, but court will refuse to give up some privileges that are no longer made sense in the France of that time, appearing to our eyes as a anachronistic characters, anchored to a company temporarily destroyed. Oriental art collector Charles Langelet also portrayed the same way, and demonstrate a complete lack of scruples and principles for ensuring their own survival. Michaud lastly, the only ones who seem to retain their humanity and values \u200b\u200bin these very scrambled, represent the lower-middle class Parisian. For them the most important thing is your own love life as a couple and their son, who struggles against the Nazis in the French army. To them to one of the most beautiful paragraphs of the novel, a dialogue between the two that I leave here the significance of its contents:
"- Maurice ... How strange are things I have gone to be bitter and disillusioned and yet are not unhappy, I mean inside. Am I wrong?
- No.
- But So what comforts you?
- The certainty of my inner freedom, "said Maurice after a moment's reflection," that is precious and unchanging, and to keep it or lose it just depends on me. The passions that led to the end, as now, eventually fade. That what had a beginning have an end. In a word, that disasters happen and they should not go before them, that's all. So the first thing is to live: Primum Vivere. Day. Live, expect, trust. "
The second part is entitled Dolce , and is set in a French village, which also appears in part, located in the German occupation. Némirovsky tells here the difficult relations between rulers and ruled, among which also comes to arise in times of friendship and, of course, love. In this case, the main character is Cecile, a young woman who lives with his mother in a mansion closed and bolted to the outside world. Ce Cecile's husband has fallen, it seems, a prisoner of the Germans. The old woman is totally against the invaders, and also has very little regard to her daughter, while Cecile, either happy or relieved in part by the absence of a husband who does not want and that is cheating on him with another, not so reluctant to approach the new arrivals opportunity that is given by the forced presence of a German officer who will live a while in the house with the two women.
is curious that in this book the author does not give us a negative view of Germans. The one that goes wrong is rather stop the war, that is to blame for the separation of parents and children and entire families. She is responsible for much suffering. The Germans stationed in France appear as soldiers who have been forced to perform a task, but they are portrayed with human dyes and almost on par with the French themselves. In fact, it insists that most were friendly and wanted to please those whose lands they had occupied in the night morning. This portrait is so close and friendly by Némirovsky surprising in part to the reader, especially if we know the dramatic end to the writer. Of course, if it intended that the work was published and not knowing how long they remain on French soil invaders, it follows that no criticism in his work to the newcomers. But it appears that Némirovsky had suspicions of his own tragic end was imminent, according to measures against Jews were being taken in France itself, and that she suffered at seeing his works ceased to be published. I'm as interested in a Irène reflect what actually was, and able to separate in their valuation at the leaders who ordered all this slaughter and those who, in most cases, had no choice but to comply if they wanted to preserve his life. Some soldiers were so prisoners as the French themselves.
I have enjoyed more with the second part. Perhaps because the characters or the story it unfolds, more lively and appealing. The first one I did a little difficult. At the end of the book also includes appendices that appear in the author's own notes about the work you are writing, accompanied by personal correspondence of Irene and her family in the period before and immediately after his death. Is a poignant testimony of barbarism meant for millions of people the senselessness of World War II. Closing the book can still see Irene, writing as far from Paris, even knowing that, possibly, his work would be posthumously (it says so explicitly in one of his letters). Pity we did not make a mistake.
More reviews of works by Irène Némirovsky:
- Dance
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