Noutsa, Oliko and Faïna. Grandmother, mother, and daughter. Of the three, Faïna is the loveliest. With breasts like bombs. Both Noutsa and Oliko were married at the age of sixteen, as soon as they had breasts. Though, it must be said, Noutsa was only married for two months the first time. Though, it is true, Oliko was only married because she lied, jumped on a train, and threw herself into the arms of a man she didn't know. Once Faïna acquires her feminine curves, she is convinced that she will soon be married. Her suitors line up. The table is laid and Grandmother Noutsa is wheeled in – she hasn't walked since the day she was widowed. Like a cannon, she fires on the suitors. And so it goes every Spring. That is until Faïna's wedding dress, with all its pretty buttons, becomes too small for her. Over the years, life gets harder for everyone. First it's the caviar in the general store that disappears. And then the shelves in the stores grow bare. Sewing needles, as rare as gold, can only be found on the black market. Much like condoms. Which is why women are willing to lay down on Velodia's icy examination table, while, Oliko, Velodia's wife, holds their legs. Owing to the elliptical style which characterizes her work, the refined humour, the able construction, and a classical narration tempered by elements of the Georgian mentality and culture, Elena Botchorichvili brings an entire universe to life in this very brief novel. Few words, few phrases are needed to weave a web of destinies, each as unforgettable as the last.
Ce que la presse en dit
« L’auteure d’origine géorgienne Elena Botchorichvili réussit encore une
fois un tour de force avec ce troisième roman. Tout comme dans son
premier ouvrage,
Le Tiroir au papillon (Boréal, 1999), elle
parvient, en une centaine de pages, à tisser un complexe mais lumineux
tableau qui forme, à l’arrivée, une véritable saga familiale hautement
picaresque courant sur trois générations. [...] Grâce à une construction
formelle toute en ellipses, en rebondissements temporels, faite de
phrases courtes et incisives, passant d’une protagoniste à l’autre,
mordant dans la vie comme dans son absurdité, Botchorichvili crée un
monde imagé dans lequel évoluent des personnages que l’on saisit
d’emblée, malgré une grande économie dans les descriptions
psychologiques. [...]Un roman fort, prenant et bouleversant, car tout
dénué de complaisance et d’atermoiements faciles. »
Pierre Thibault — Ici« L’univers disparu de
Faïna, texte bien tourné qui se situe entre la
novella
et le roman, n’a apparemment pas fini d’habiter les esprits de ceux qui
en sont issus, marqués à jamais par le contexte dictatorial qui pesait
sur eux,, parfois jusque dans le domaine de l’intime. »
Éric Paquin – Voir
Pour lire la critique complète« Une saga construite en peu de mots. Un tour de force. »
Michel Vézina – Pour la suite des choses / Radio-Canada Pour écouter la critique