| |
Léna Ghar |
 |
| |
Prix des Cordeliers 2024
« Dans le noir, la monstre fait même peur aux loups enragés sous mon lit sauf que je ne peux pas m’enfuir de ma peau.
Je veux que quelqu’un la tue mais personne ne la voit.
Je veux qu’elle meure mais je ne sais pas comment elle s’appelle.
Je cherche son nom partout. »
La folie qui parcourt ce roman électrise par sa brutale justesse et la sauvagerie poétique de son regard sur le monde.
With Tumeur ou tutu, Léna Ghar puts herself in the shoes of a young girl who grew up with two beloved brothers in a sort of ‘prison-poison-house’, renamed the ‘prouson’. Caught between her mother’s screams and her father’s silence, she is the tongue-tied witness of double binds. To make the situation worse, she has the premonition of being inhabited from birth by something invisible and threatening.
A powerful text focused on a tormented young woman who escapes family violence and social conformity by creating her own language, an early interest in love between women and a taste for mathematics. The verbal inventiveness of this coming-of-age story brings up Queneau, accompanied by a trash version of Zazie. Her rooting in the wilderness of the spoken word questions the dangers of a form of ready-to-speak, ready-to-think, or even ready-to-destroy (oneself). Nevertheless, Léna Ghar displays ‘an unwavering faith in language, the sole living entity which is able to contain without fully holding back’.
|
|
| |
|
|
