Annie Ernaux

A revelatory meditation on the big-box superstore, from 2022 Nobel laureate Annie Ernaux   For half a century, French writer Annie Ernaux has restlessly explored stories and subjects often considered unworthy of artistic reflection. In this exquisite meditation, Ernaux turns her attention to the phenomenon of the big-box superstore, a ubiquitous feature of modern life that has received scant attention in literature—until now.   Recording her visits to a single superstore in Paris for over a year, Ernaux captures the world that exists within its massive walls. Culture, class, and capitalism converge, reinscribing the individual’s role and rank within society while absorbing individuality into the machine of mass consumerism. Through Ernaux’s eyes, the superstore emerges as a “great human meeting place, a spectacle”—one of the few spaces where we come into direct contact with difference. She notes the unexpectedly intimate encounters between customers; how our collective desires are dictated by the daily, seasonal, and annual rhythms of the marketplace; and the ways that the built environment reveals the contours of gender and race in contemporary society.   With her relentless powers of observation, Annie Ernaux takes the measure of a place we thought we knew, calling us to question the experiences we overlook and to gaze more deeply into ordinary life.

WINNER OF THE 2022 NOBEL PRIZE IN LITERATURE Annie Ernaux's most recent book, dazzling and breathtaking, published in France in 2022, is about her affair with a man 30 years her junior. “A sublime book.” —Olivia de Lamberterie, Elle “Once again the work of the writer Annie Ernaux appears as both a rigorous study of life and an experiment. These fragments of living, however evanescent, are precious, irreplaceable, like a skin that never fades.” —Caroline Montpetit in Le Devoir The Young Man is Annie Ernaux’s account of her passionate love affair with A., a man some 30 years younger, when she was in her fifties. The relationship pulls her back to memories of her own youth and at the same time leaves her feeling ageless, outside of time— together with a sense that she is living her life backwards. Amidst talk of having a child together, she feels time running its course, and menopause approaching. The Young Man recalls Ernaux as the “scandalous girl” she once was, but is composed with the mastery and the self-assurance she has achieved across decades of writing. It was first published in France in 2022.

WINNER OF THE 2022 NOBEL PRIZE IN LITERATUREAn account of Annie Ernaux’s love affair with journalist Marc Marie while she was undergoing treatment for cancer, and their combined project to document images and memories.Includes 14 black and white still-life photographs by the authors.Love and death cohabit in The Use of Photography, with alternating chapters by the two authors. First published in France in 2005, the book recounts a passionate love affair between Ernaux and the journalist and author Marc Marie, after the two met in January 2003. Ernaux had been receiving intensive chemo for breast cancer during the prior three months, and had lost all her hair from the treatments. At the end of January she had surgery, followed by radiation therapy.The affair took place in different locations and Ernaux describes how, shortly after it began, she found herself entranced each morning by the sight of clothes strewn about, chairs out of place and the remains of their last meal of the evening still on the table—and how painful it felt to put things back in order afterward. She went and got her camera, and began to take photographs of the scenes of disarray. When she told Marc Marie what she had done, he said he had felt the same desire.The Use of Photography is one of the quintessential Ernaux books, told primarily through words in Ernaux’s inimitable style, which is adopted here by both authors, and with their photographs adding another lens through which to capture the story.

In 1963, Annie Ernaux, 23 and unattached, realizes she is pregnant. Shame arises in her like a Understanding that her pregnancy will mark her and her family as social failures, she knows she cannot keep that child. This is the story, written forty years later, of a trauma Ernaux never overcame. In a France where abortion was illegal, she attempted, in vain, to self-administer the abortion with a knitting needle. Fearful and desperate, she finally located an abortionist, and ends up in a hospital emergency ward where she nearly dies. In Happening, Ernaux sifts through her memories and her journal entries dating from those days. Clearly, cleanly, she gleans the meanings of her experience.

WINNER OF THE 2022 NOBEL PRIZE IN LITERATURE Considered by many to be the iconic French memoirist’s defining work and a breakout bestseller when published in France in 2008. The Years is a personal narrative of the period 1941 to 2006 told through the lens of memory, impressions past and present—even projections into the future—photos, books, songs, radio, television and decades of advertising, headlines, contrasted with intimate conflicts and writing notes from 6 decades of diaries. Local dialect, words of the times, slogans, brands and names for the ever-proliferating objects, are given voice here. The voice we recognize as the author’s continually dissolves and re-emerges. Ernaux makes the passage of time palpable. Time itself, inexorable, narrates its own course, consigning all other narrators to anonymity. A new kind of autobiography emerges, at once subjective and impersonal, private and collective. On its 2008 publication in France, The Years came as a surprise. Though Ernaux had for years been hailed as a beloved, bestselling and award-winning author, The Years was in many ways a departure: both an intimate memoir “written” by entire generations, and a story of generations telling a very personal story. Like the generation before hers, the narrator eschews the “I” for the “we” (or “they”, or “one”) as if collective life were inextricably intertwined with a private life that in her parents’ generation ceased to exist. She writes of her parents’ generation (and could be writing of her own book): “From a common fund of hunger and fear, everything was told in the “we” and impersonal pronouns.”

En quelques pages, à la première personne, Annie Ernaux raconte une relation vécue avec un homme de trente ans de moins qu'elle. Une expérience qui la fit redevenir, l'espace de plusieurs mois, la « fille scandaleuse » de sa jeunesse. Un voyage dans le temps qui lui permit de franchir une étape décisive dans son écriture.

Getting Lost is the diary kept by Annie Ernaux during the year and a half she had a secret love affair with a younger, married man, an attaché to the Soviet embassy in Paris. Her novel, Simple Passion, was based on this affair, but here her writing is immediate and unfiltered. In these diaries it is 1989 and Annie is divorced with two grown sons, living in the suburbs of Paris and nearing fifty. Her lover escapes the city to see her there and Ernaux seems to survive only in expectation of these encounters. She cannot write, she trudges distractedly through her various other commitments in the world, she awaits his next call; she lives merely to feel desire and for the next rendezvous. When he is gone and the moment of desire has faded, she feels that she is a step closer to death. Lauded for her spare prose, Ernaux here removes all artifice, her writing pared down to its most naked and vulnerable. Translated brilliantly for the first time by Alison L. Strayer, Getting Lost is a haunting record of a woman in the grips of love, desire and despair.

In her spare, stark style, Annie Ernaux documents the desires and indignities of a human heart ensnared in an all-consuming passion. Blurring the lines between fact and fiction, an unnamed narrator attempts to plot the emotional and physical course of her two-year relationship with a married foreigner where every word, event, and person either provides a connection with her beloved, or is subject to her cold indifference. With courage and exactitude, she seeks the truth behind an existence lived entirely for someone else, and, in the pieces of its aftermath, she is able to find it.

‘I too wanted to forget that girl. Really forget her, that is, stop yearning to write about her. Stop thinking that I have to write about this girl and her desire and madness, her idiocy and pride, her hunger and her blood that ceased to flow. I have never managed to do so.’ In A Girl’s Story, her latest book, Annie Ernaux revisits the summer of 1958, spent working as a holiday camp instructor in Normandy, and recounts the first night she spent with a man. When he moves on, she realizes she has submitted her will to his and finds that she is a slave without a master. Now, sixty years later, she finds she can obliterate the intervening years and return to consider this young woman whom she wanted to forget completely. In writing A Girl’s Story, which brings to life her indelible memories of that summer, Ernaux discovers that here was the vital, violent and dolorous origin of her writing life, built out of shame, violence and betrayal.

Jak oddać paraliżujący strach towarzyszący niechcianej ciąży i potajemnej aborcji? Jak opisać nastoletni seks, który bywa źródłem wolności, ale i upokorzenia? I jak sportretować rozkoszną władzę nad młodszym o trzydzieści lat kochankiem? "Liczy się nie to, co się zdarza, lecz to, co robimy z tym, co się zdarzyło" ­– to zdanie staje się motywem przewodnim zbioru. Dokonując wiwisekcji wspomnień, Ernaux odważnie opisuje sprawy seksu, pożądania i kobiecości. Lawiruje między obrzydzeniem a błogością, a jej oszczędny język i fotograficzna pamięć doskonale oddają sprzeczność między tym, co społecznie przyjęte, a potrzebami ciała. Ale interesuje ją też to, jak to możliwe, że zagłębiając się w przeszłości, odkrywamy tam obce nam "ja". Zbiór Ciało to książka odważna i bezkompromisowa, to także poruszająca kronika kobiecego doświadczenia w czasach obyczajowych przemian. Ernaux jak nikt inny potrafi skonfrontować się z tabu, a własne doświadczenia przełożyć na wybitną literaturę. Na tom składają się: Zdarzenie (L’Événement), Pamięć dziewczyn (Mémoire de fille), Młody mężczyzna (Le Jeune Homme).

Il n'est jamais entré dans un musée, il ne lisait que Paris-Normandie et se servait de son Opinel pour manger. Ouvrier devenu petit commerçant, il espérait que sa fille, grâce aux études, serait mieux que lui. Cette fille, Annie Ernaux, refuse l'oubli des origines. Elle retrace la vie et la mort de celui qui avait conquis sa petite "place au soleil". Et dévoile aussi la distance, douloureuse, survenue entre elle, étudiante, et ce père aimé qui lui disait : "Les livres, la musique, c'est bon pour toi. Moi, je n'en ai pas besoin pour vivre." Ce récit dépouillé possède une dimension universelle.

"Souvent, depuis le début de notre relation, j'étais restée fascinée en découvrant au réveil la table non desservie du dîner, les chaises déplacées, nos vêtements emmêlés, jetés par terre n'importe où la veille au soir en faisant l'amour. C'était un paysage à chaque fois différent. Je me demande pourquoi l'idée de le photographier ne m'est pas venue plus tôt. Ni pourquoi je n'ai jamais proposé cela à aucun homme. Peut-être considérais-je qu'il y avait là quelque chose de vaguement honteux, ou d'indigne. En un sens, il était moins obscène pour moi de photographier le sexe de M. Peut-être aussi ne pouvais-je le faire qu'avec cet homme-là et qu'à cette période de ma vie." Annie Ernaux.

«J'ai toujours eu envie d'écrire des livres dont il me soit ensuite impossible de parler, qui rendent le regard d'autrui insoutenable. Mais quelle honte pourrait m'apporter l'écriture d'un livre qui soit à la hauteur de ce que j'ai éprouvé dans ma douzième année.» Annie Ernaux.

Taking the form of random journal entries over the course of seven years, Exteriors concentrates on the ephemeral encounters that take place just on the periphery of a person’s lived environment. Ernaux captures the feeling of contemporary living on the outskirts of Paris: poignantly lyrical, chaotic, and strangely alive. Exteriors is in many ways the most ecstatic of Ernaux’s books—the first in which she appears largely free of the haunting personal relationships she has written about so powerfully elsewhere, and the first in which she is able to leave the past behind her.

"Depuis des années, je tourne autour de cet événement de ma vie. Lire dans un roman le récit d'un avortement me plonge dans un saisissement sans images ni pensées, comme si les mots se changeaient instantanément en sensation violente. De la même façon entendre par hasard La javanaise, J'ai la mémoire qui flanche, n'importe quelle chanson qui m'a accompagnée durant cette période, me bouleverse."

A Woman's Story is Annie Ernaux's "deeply affecting account of mothers and daughters, youth and age, and dreams and reality” (Kirkus Reviews). Upon her mother's death from Alzheimers, Ernaux embarks on a daunting journey back through time, as she seeks to "capture the real woman, the one who existed independently from me, born on the outskirts of a small Normandy town, and who died in the geriatric ward of a hospital in the suburbs of Paris.” She explores the bond between mother and daughter, tenuous and unshakable at once, the alienating worlds that separate them, and the inescapable truth that we must lose the ones we love. In this quietly powerful tribute, Ernaux attempts to do her mother the greatest justice she can: to portray her as the individual she was. She writes, "I believe I am writing about my mother because it is my turn to bring her into the world."

"My father tried to kill my mother one Sunday in June, in the early afternoon." Thus begins Shame, the probing story of the twelve-year-old girl who will become the author herself, and the single traumatic memory that will echo and resonate throughout her life. With the emotionally rich voice of great fiction and the diamond-sharp analytical eye of a scientist, Annie Ernaux provides a powerful reflection on experience and the power of violent memory to endure through time, to determine the course of a life.

"La photo en noir et blanc d'une petite fille en maillot de bain foncé, sur une plage de galets. En fond, des falaises. Elle est assise sur un rocher plat, ses jambes robustes étendues bien droites devant elle, les bras en appui sur le rocher, les yeux fermés, la tête légèrement penchée, souriant. Une épaisse natte brune ramenée par-devant, l'autre laissée dans le dos. Tout révèle le désir de poser comme les stars dans Cinémonde ou la publicité d'Ambre solaire, d'échapper à son corps humiliant et sans importance de petite fille. Les cuisses plus claires, ainsi que le haut des bras, dessinent la forme d'une robe et indiquent le caractère exceptionnel, pour cette enfant, d'un séjour ou d'une sortie à la mer. La plage est déserte. Au dos : août 1949, Sotte ville-sur-Mer". Au travers de photos et de souvenirs laissés par les événements, les mots et les choses, Annie Ernaux donne à ressentir le passage des années, de l'après-guerre à aujourd'hui. En même temps, elle inscrit l'existence dans une forme nouvelle d'autobiographie, impersonnelle et collective.

Ottobre 1963: una studentessa ventitreenne è costretta a percorrere vie clandestine per poter interrompere una gravidanza. In Francia l’aborto è ancora illegale – la parola stessa è considerata impronunciabile, non ha un suo «posto nel linguaggio».L’evento restituisce i giorni e le tappe di un’«esperienza umana totale»: le spaesate ricerche di soluzioni e la disperata apatia, le ambiguità dei medici e la sistematica fascinazione dei maschi, la vicinanza di qualche compagna di corso e l’incontro con la mammana, sino al senso di fierezza per aver saputo attraversare un’abbacinante compresenza di vita e morte.Calandosi «in ogni immagine, fino ad avere la sensazione fisica di “raggiungerla”», Ernaux interroga la memoria come strumento di conoscenza del reale. Dalla cronistoria di un avvenimento individualmente e politicamente trasformativo sorge una voce esattissima, irrefutabile, che apre uno spazio letterario di testimonianza per generazioni di donne escluse dalla Storia.

« J’ai voulu l’oublier cette fille. L’oublier vraiment, c’est-à-dire ne plus avoir envie d’écrire sur elle. Ne plus penser que je dois écrire sur elle, son désir, sa folie, son idiotie et son orgueil, sa faim et son sang tari. Je n’y suis jamais parvenue. »Dans Mémoire de fille, Annie Ernaux replonge dans l’été 1958, celui de sa première nuit avec un homme, à la colonie de S. dans l’Orne. Nuit dont l’onde de choc s’est propagée violemment dans son corps et sur son existence durant deux années. S’appuyant sur des images indélébiles de sa mémoire, des photos et des lettres écrites à ses amies, elle interroge cette fille qu’elle a été dans un va-et-vient implacable entre hier et aujourd'hui.

Una donna racconta la relazione con un ragazzo di trent’anni più giovane. Un’avventura che a poco a poco si trasforma in una storia d’amore e diviene per la narratrice un viaggio nel tempo in cui il presente si mescola alla memoria dei rapporti passati e della propria esistenza sociale e sessuale. Con Il ragazzo Annie Ernaux compone una miniatura perfetta descrivendo l’impeto e lo scandalo di una passione e lasciandosi attraversare dal piacere inappellabile di «scrivere la vita».