I really like spiders. Sabine Huynh is not a spider. Though. This singular polyglot author, born in Saigon in 1972, grew up in France and now lives in Tel Aviv. She is a poet, translator of the American poet Anne Sexton or the Hebrew writer Uri Orlev. In short, she juggles with languages, weaving a thread between the texts, lending them her words: what could be more spidery than the work of a translator?
The spiderweb. It is to this form so complex and so simple, this edifice so fragile and so solid that his tightrope walker story resembles: “Elvis on the radio”. In this book, I dogged a lot of pages, but the one that grabbed me, page 37, is about spiders. From a childhood trauma, which had to be remembered, since as Huynh reminds us, “to remember”it is “to regroup” (While working on our “Special Proust Series”, I discovered, amazed, this beautiful word “Remember”, from old French, so I thrilled to find it in this book).
It’s about the writing, sympathetic ink of the hidden pieces “, which allows him to reveal ” cohesion between the scattered pieces of the puzzle », the writing that guides and repairs:
“I still find it hard to believe that I can write like this (…) contenting myself with following the silks that the spiders in the basement of the building where I slept after being kicked out by my mother mixed up to my thick black hair, which I still pull today, thirty-five years later. »
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