Mots de tête by Dominique Resch (review)

metrical forms, this collection alternates between wry travelogue observations and profound statements consistent with Réda’s writing since Les Ruines de Paris (1977) on poetry’s immanence and the merits of immersion in the outer world’s beauty. The “Dédicace” and the section “Trois croquis” relate more or less minor happenings, even as they take in a gleaming “ténébreuse averse / Ou l’or pur d’Orion” (7). Here, alternating lines of mostly eight and six syllables recall partly the rhythms of the sea, partly the risk of falling into a somnolent routine, and partly the inherent laziness and forgetfulness of human nature that can be exacerbated by the “indolence” of island ways as “l’après-midi ce dortoir / Reste engourdi par le silence” (25). The section “Sept gouaches” favors more generous line lengths that instill contemplation as the speaker marvels at the “lumineux poème” (11) written by the elements. Compelling relative to Lettre au physicien are “Floue” and “Gravitationnelle,” where a happy confusion—reinforced by the rhymes—presents itself between particular “couleurs opulentes” (12) and a universal grand design of light, human awe and the “émotion” (12) emanating from natural phenomena, and a certain weightlessness and the persistent “œil bleu des gouffres grand ouverts” (13). The two poems that make up “La part du vent,” meanwhile, are noteworthy for their depiction of intersubjective relationships: “Et le lent / Voyage de toute une vie aboutit à ta joue, / S’engage dans la baie où l’océan va déposer / Sur le rivage la première vague d’un baiser” (32). Le grand orchestre, which recounts in prose and a few interspersed poems how bandleader Duke Ellington’s recorded output has shaped Réda’s affective life, recalls the autobiographical elements of Aller aux mirabelles (1991), Aller à Élisabethville (1993), and Aller au diable (2002). Le grand orchestre will certainly appeal to music fans, in that it makes a graceful case for favorite artists and recordings being inextricable from a lifetime’s events. As a literary work, it features a calm narrative voice, an array of colorful characters and vignettes, evocative insights into midcentury and postwar American and French life, and emphasis on love reaching “au-delà du désir” (50), even if the overarching story of a musical composition being able to “résume peut-être toutes les Béatrice” (32) strikes now and then an open-ended note more suited to this genre of “récits subjectifs” (inside cover) than to stories with a set beginning and end. When Réda’s inclination toward hybrid texts surfaces, it captures just such an ethereal feeling: “[le blues] comme un dieu démuni […] n’exige ni foi ni espérance, mais permet cette reconnaissance mutuelle prenant […] le seul ton de grandeur véritable que donne l’humilité. // […] L’amour est dans l’absence de pain qui n’empêche pas le partage, / le seul partage qui a lieu sans discorde et se passe de couteau” (64-65). Southwestern University (TX) Aaron Prevots RESCH, DOMINIQUE. Mots de tête. Paris: Autrement, 2011. ISBN 978-2-7467-3039-7. Pp. 153. 14 a. Resch has successfully taught for some twenty years in a technical high school in a northern section of Marseille. In his “récit,” he celebrates this time with anecdotes and truisms easily relatable to anyone who has taught adolescents. The very first, “Un prof qui doute, c’est une cible” (12), tells us just how important confidence is. “Prof, ce n’est pas un vrai métier. C’est une discipline sportive. Une épreuve d’endurance” (22). Tonio is a disruptive student who interrupts the Reviews 797 seriousness of learning with his whining need to go to the bathroom. Those of us in education have dealt with our own “Tonios.” However, Resch, teacher of French, history, geography and civics, is able to communicate on the level of his students. He takes passages from classics such as Racine’s Andromaque or Rostand’s Cyrano and bends the alexandrines into modern-day rap such that the Tonios, Nadirs, and others can relate better. The author presents a typical anecdote of the classroom for each month and often uses a...