Let’s face it, I have a weakness for Annie Ernaux. For years, I had been defending her for the prize of the National Library of France, and now it’s too late (Patrick Modiano had received it before the Nobel). some friends highfalutin, as they say here (in New York), reproach me for it, because they find that she writes flat. Me, I remember “Empty Cabinets”, his first novel, which I read when it appeared in 1974 and which was anything but stale.
This exploration of a woman’s memory around an abortion marked me. At that time, we were all feminists. I happened to write in magazines under a pseudonym of the second sex to try another body. Today it would be doomed.
But Annie Ernaux remains for me inseparable from the exploration of my female body. Between his generation and mine, the pill appeared, we were better equipped. One of my friends had to have an abortion all the same, not my fault, but I accompanied her with “the Empty Cabinets”.
48 hours in Italy with Annie Ernaux, Nobel Prize for Literature
Then I stopped reading Annie Ernaux after “the
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