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Archive for the ‘France’ Category

Georges Perec (1936-1982)

03 Mar

30 years ago today, novelist Georges Perec died in Paris.

He was also a crossword compiler, an indexer in a medical laboratory, a writer of extremely long palindromes and a member of the literary group Oulipo.

I’ve written a number of articles about Perec: here, here, here and here.

If you do one thing today in memory of Perec, question your teaspoons.

To question the habitual. But that’s just it, we’re habituated to it. We don’t question it, it doesn’t question us, it doesn’t seem to pose a problem, we live it without thinking, as if it carried within it neither question nor answers, as if it weren’t the bearer of any information. This is not longer even conditioning, it’s anaesthesia. We sleep through our lives in a dreamless sleep. But where is our life? Where is our body? Where is our space?

How are we to speak of these ‘common things’, how to track them down rather, how to flush them out, wrest them from the dross in which they remain mired, how to give them a meaning, a tongue, to let them, finally, speak of what is, of what we are.

 
 

Gilbert Adair, 1944-2011

13 Dec

Gilbert Adair, 1944-2011

‘My ambition, as Author, my point, I would go so far as to say my fixation, my constant fixation, was primarily to concoct an artifact that would, or just possibly might, act as a stimulant on notions of construction, of narration, of plotting, of action, a stimulant, in a word, on fiction-writing today.’

 - Georges Perec, A Void, trans. Gilbert Adair

 

 

Notes on Paris football

09 Nov

I spent last weekend becoming better acquainted with the French National League, heading up to Saint-Ouen on Friday night to see Red Star 93 take on GFCO Ajaccio at the Docteur Bauer Stadium, then attending the Paris F.C. vs l’Aviron Bayonnais in the cavernous Stade Charléty on Saturday evening. (This is the second time I’ve written about Red Star – more here.)

The National division is effectively the third tier of French football, and Red Star, having just been promoted, are having a difficult time of it, especially at home. They’ve only won three games – one at home, two away (including a freakishly high 4-0 result against Paris F.C. at the Stade Charléty). So hopes were low coming into Friday night’s match, and were repayed by an insipid performance, with the Saint-Ouen side giving away an early goal. Red Star’s listless defence was repeatedly breached by an enterprising Ajaccio side, and they were lucky to go in only a goal down at half-time.

The second half began positively for Red Star, as they began to put together the kind of passing and movement that they’ve proved capable of in the past. But then, on 56 minutes, Ajaccio’s Colleredo scored the second, and Red Star had virtually no response. A frantic round of substitutions followed, but it made no difference. At the end of the game, as booing rang out, only two Red Star players came over to acknowledge the crowd. One lingered, and ended up being involved in a verbal spat with the fans. 2-0 to Ajaccio.

Stade Charlety

Getting to Red Star’s stadium, you leave the Clignancourt metro station and pass the huge markets at Saint-Ouen. In contrast, you can arrive at the Stade Charléty on a tram – and the station’s right next to the turnstiles. Running late, I climbed from the tram and heard the referee’s whistle signalling the start of play. But I was in my seat with three minutes gone, in time to see Paris FC’s well-taken goal in the fifth minute.

I thought I was in for a free-flowing and entertaining game, but instead things settled into a niggly pattern, with some hard tackling down the sideline, tight passing but little expansive play. I settled into trying to judge the capacity of the stadium (it’s about 20,000) and guessing how many people were in the crowd (about 300-400, I’d say). It was well into the second half before Arnaud Souquet went on an audacious solo dribble from near the halfway line that ended with him putting it past the Bayonne keeper from about 15 yards. Soquet’s run was achieved in part through passing the ball past opposition players, who each panicked in turn. The Paris FC forward showed real class and composure, and it’s little surprise that he’s been called up to the French under-20 squad. The Bayonnais turned up the heat on 90 minutes, with a brilliant curling goal from distance that made the added time distinctly uncomfortable for the home side.

During the game, I noticed something: goalkeepers, rather than taking long kicks downfield in the English fashion, were passing the ball to well placed defenders, who then tried to work attacking moves through midfield. This is the French third division, and everything’s played to feet. What’s the explanation? Cultural difference?

 

Where am I and what am I doing? Writing about Parisian geography

14 Oct

At the bibliothèque Couronnes, a Perec mural

My essay on Georges Perec, the Situationists and Parisian geography appears in the third issue of the White Review, published this week.

I stood near the columbarium at Père Lachaise cemetery. I was there to see the locker-like vault containing the ashes of Georges Perec, kept alongside those of his aunt, Esther Bienenfeld. To the right of the plaque bearing their names and dates someone had affixed a wildflower to the wall with a Tom and Jerry sticking plaster. The columbarium contains thousands of urns stacked in a two-storey grid along one wall of the arcade. Its cloister-like arches surround the domed crematorium and its looming chimneys.

The grid became an obsession for Perec – his Lieux project and his novel la Vie mode d’emploi were planned using 12 by 12 and 10 by 10 grids respectively. Rather than being a limiting structure that undermined a creative impulse, the grid was seen as a constraint that would aid composition (in line with the literary group Oulipo’s view of the literary uses of limitation).

Perec’s Lieux project focused on 12 places in Paris, one of which was rue Vilin, the street where he had lived as a child.

Rue Vilin is in the neighbourhood of Belleville, in north-eastern Paris, and stands on hills overlooking the city centre. Perec’s Jewish family lived in an area described by his biographer David Bellos as ‘a whole Yiddish town within sight of the Eiffel Tower.’ While this street had an obvious emotional resonance for the writer, Perec sought to record his experience there as ‘simply, flatly’ as he could. A series of descriptive texts of each place made up one half of his project – the other half consisting of his memories of the same places. Perec’s descriptions of the rue Vilin capture a place that’s about to be erased: long designated a slum area, it has been marked for extensive redevelopment and reconstruction. It is far from a stable repository for Perec’s past.

Read more of the essay at the White Review. Or order a copy of issue three to read the whole article.

(Illustrator Badaude has contributed a poster to the same issue of The White Review that looks at Perec’s Tentative d’ épuisement d’un lieu Parisien; read her illustrated post about it here – I particularly like the tracing of pigeon trajectories around the place Saint Sulpice, something Perec does in his text. )

 

Rue Monge: A guide to getting lost

29 Sep

Walking around the neighbourhood entails finding routes that aren’t immediately obvious to you when you arrive. Finding short-cuts and taking the long way around become activities you can pursue at leisure. Turn left along rue Linné, up the hill towards the Roman arena, hidden away behind the buildings on Rue Monge, then left again into Square Capitan; having wandered aimlessly in the park, realising that it connects with the arena, you walk down the hill, turning right alongside the university, then up rue des Écoles, pausing to look at the upcoming films in the Grand Action cinema. Transcribing the date and time of one of the films (François Truffaut’s La Nuit américaine (Day for Night) at 20h on October 5th), you swerve left up the hill, then onto Rue Monge, taking a side street back towards the mosque on rue des Quatrefages, then back towards your point of origin, a square quiet at night, but now, near lunchtime, teeming with university students, mingling with wandering children of secondary school age.

Georges Perec lived at the apartment building at 13 rue Linné. When I passed it, I photographed the building from across the street, then crossed and took a picture of the courtyard, a bicycle visible inside the gate, leaning against a wall.

The urge to wander has struck me in every city I’ve visited, even those towns in the American west that lack event the most basic amenities for pedestrians (e.g., footpaths). While walking these towns and cities I’m motivated by two impulses: the impulse to get lost, to find new streets and corners of the city; and the impulse to map new territory, to utilise the newly discovered places of the city to aid future navigation. The getting lost is play: it is loose and undefined, and allows you to make mistakes and then correct them, without the pressure of having to conform to the framework of a map, an adherence to which may restrict your wandering.

Nevertheless, my journey this morning was also informed by a sketchy knowledge of the geography of the area: rue Monge runs along a steep hill, sloping down towards the Seine. In walking uphill, you are invariably heading south. Although, just to mix things up a little, this is not always the case: small hills derail you from any over-determined geography of the area, injecting a sense of play into proceedings once you realise you’ve left your map of Paris on the kitchen table.

 

Some Parisian Walking

20 Mar

Two recent articles by me, written for 3:AM Magazine: a review of Tom McDonough’s new Situationist reader, and an interview with Eric Hazan, radical publisher and author of The Invention of Paris.

 

Strolling Through Faubourg Saint-Antoine

01 Mar

I’m currently reading the new Verso translation of Eric Hazan’s The Invention of Paris. It’s a beautifully imagined book, full of colourful descriptions of Parisian places. I’ll review it soon, but in the meantime, here’s what Hazan says about the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, a notoriously radical Parisian locale:

The present Faubourg retains few material traces of this glorious past, and only the friends of Red Paris mentally raise their hats when they cross Rue Charles-Delescluze and remember that at the crossroads of Rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine and Rue de Cotte they are on the site of the barricade where the representative of the people Alphonse Baudin was killed for twenty-five francs. But even if the proximity of the Bastille Opera now disagreeably contaminates the first few metres of the Faubourg, even if Rue de Lappe, long since deserted by the Auvergnats, is no longer the haven that it once was for modern art, still the Aligre market, the fountains on the corner of Rue de Charonne and in the square in front of the Saint-Antoine hospital, the courtyards where illustrators and computer buffs, Chinese artisans and photographers, work cheek by jowl – this unique mixture maintains the quarter’s identity as plebeian and industrious. If, taking up Marcel Duchamp’s idea, we should manufacture cans of Air de Paris, it is certainly that of Faubourg Saint-Antoine with which I would fill mine. (124)

Eric Hazan will be in conversation with Iain Sinclair in London’s Institut Francais this Wednesday 3rd March. (Details here.)

 

22 Jul

This evening in Berlin, a new literary journal will be launched. Titled The Kakofonie, and edited by John Holten, the contributors come from Italy, Germany, Ireland, the USA and Denmark. In the first issue, American cruciverbalist Charlie Stadtlander provides a crossword puzzle, French-based Irish artist John Lalor provides a textual exploration of notions of the void, and there are stories and poems from Luke Sheehan, Patrick O’Beirne, Christian Ward and Andrea Bedorin. In addition, I contribute an essay on Georges Perec and urban form. The first issue is available for download in PDF format here.

 

03 Jul

Glenn Beck on The Coming Insurrection here.

 

10 May

Laura’s started a blog about caricatures, looking at contemporary chaps what draw (Steve Bell, for example) and auld fellas from years ago (Daumier, for one). Expect a post on why noted pioneer of photography, Nadar, was also an underrated cartoonist, and other engaging tales from mid-19th century Paris. Read her blog here.