Paris est un rêve érotique by Thibault Malfoy (review)

tolerance, won the 2014 Prix Pierre Guénin, created in 2009 to recognize the efforts of those who fight against homophobia and for the recognition of LGBT rights. Canisius College (NY) Eileen M. Angelini Malfoy, Thibault. Paris est un rêve érotique. Paris: Grasset, 2014. ISBN 978-2-24680893 -0. Pp. 206. 17 a. In a promotional video produced by Librairie Mollat, Malfoy says of his first novel: “Je crois qu’on peut dire que tout est dans le titre.” This is true; the novel’s scope does not extend much beyond that. After a promising, but all-too-brief opening gambit— a semi-hallucinogenic description of a cabaret dancer just before she enters the stage, initially written in the second person—the novel quickly slides into what has become a trope of contemporary French fiction: a first-person, present-tense tale of a twentyor thirty-something, a cultured bobo meandering through Paris in search of meaning . In this case, our unnamed narrator, who has recently resigned from his position at the“Fondation,”is well known for his truffle risotto, has a shoe obsession, and prepares dance mixes on his phone for parties. He details the “cartographie fétichiste de [ses] errances nocturnes” (31) primarily near Ledru-Rollin, hitting hotspots familiar to those who know the area (Pause café, Le China, Le Motel, Morry’s) where he imbibes a variety of cocktails with exotic names. Zoé, the narrator’s girlfriend who works as an editorial assistant, which allows us a foray into the 6e arrondissement for a business luncheon, invites him to a cabaret as a birthday gift. It is here that the narrator lays eyes upon Cecilia, the aforementioned dancer and Zoé’s friend. He is immediately smitten. Cecilia “se livre sans pudeur, et son sans-gêne me gêne” (59). Her presence completely upends his life. Obsessed by her body he begins to see her everywhere, on every street corner: “Et je te vois; ou plutôt, je vois une femme répétée à l’infini. Elle découpe mes nuits en rêveries érotiques” (44). And there is a dreamlike quality to the novel. Besides the narrator’s regular visits to Dr. Catherine Maldore, an “onirologue” who pays him to recount his dreams, he also calls on an apothicaire in the 10e who offers him a “poudre magique [...] la Neige bleue” (101–02), which he uses on several occasions. The reader is at times unsure as to which parts of the narrator’s clandestine meetings with Cecilia are real and what is imagined. Finally, the novel is spiced with moments of eroticism, including a tryst on a péniche during a snowstorm, quotations from Philosophie dans le boudoir recited in an effort to invigorate the narrator, and the possibility of a threesome between the main characters at Zoé’s behest. Yet, like much of the novel, one is left cold. While the author appears to be exploring the juxtaposition between exhibitionism and voyeurism, between the oneiric and the conscious while simultaneously celebrating a city that has inspired countless writers, the novel mainly comes across as shallow and clichéd. Near the end of the work the 262 FRENCH REVIEW 88.3 Reviews 263 narrator exclaims:“Ah, j’en ai marre: les évasions, les courses-poursuites, ça va bien un temps, j’ai envie d’arrêter, de prendre ma retraite” (203). This is also true. Bradley University (IL) Alexander Hertich Masson, Jean-Yves. L’incendie du théâtre de Weimar. Paris: Verdier, 2014. ISBN 9782 -86432-746-2. Pp. 192. 15 a. Un épisode peu connu, raconté par Eckermann dans ses Conversations avec Goethe (1836), constitue le point de départ de ce roman. Dans la nuit du 21 au 22 mars 1825, un incendie détruisit le théâtre de la Cour grand-ducale de Weimar, que Goethe avait dirigé de 1791 à 1817. Le roman de Masson présente cet incendie comme la fin d’une époque particulièrement glorieuse dans la longue carrière littéraire de Goethe et comme la préfiguration de la mort de l’écrivain en 1832 (également un 22 mars). Pour représenter Eckermann, et à travers lui l...