La Diva aux longs cils and Les Nageurs by Charles Dantzig (review)

DANTZIG, CHARLES. La Diva aux longs cils. Paris: Grasset, 2010. ISBN 978-2-246-762713 . Pp. 362. 20 a. . Les Nageurs. Paris: Grasset, 2010. ISBN 978-2-246-74381-1. Pp. 88. 8,60 a. Might contemporary poetry be a cosmopolitan diva, dwarfed by other literary genres yet elegantly striving, anxious to add a few words to our daily conversations even as it grapples with inner conflicts “entre son et image, entre forme et émotion” (Diva 23)? Such are the alternately worldly, earnest, and ironic kinds of questions posed in these two “livres de poèmes” (Diva 10) by Charles Dantzig. A prolific and much honored writer, he shares in La Diva aux longs cils his interest in places, moods and the play of words on the page. This engaging anthology presents his six poetry collections from 1991 to 2003 in reverse chronological order, preceded by two newer series from 2010 and three reflective prose pieces. Edited in length by Oxford University professor Patrick McGuinness, it serves as an excellent overview of one side of Dantzig’s multifaceted œuvre. Les Nageurs, published simultaneously, explores the pleasures of real and metaphoric swimming . The essays that open La Diva aux longs cils nicely introduce Dantzig’s distinctive spark. With a mix of wistfulness and ambition, and somewhat in the manner of Oscar Wilde and F. Scott Fitzgerald whom he has translated, they shed light on the joy he brings to writing in spite of a certain disenchantment with the literary world. The first, “Divaesque (Interview de l’auteur par lui-même)” (2010), points out a fondness for “[c]e que pourrait être la poésie, quelquefois, au lieu de la pincée à cheveux rêches qu’elle est trop souvent” (7), including “le provocateur, le fort, le faisandé” (8) as well as unities of theme that help him to “mieux fouiller une sensation” (10). “J’ai interrompu très tôt une carrière de poète” (2003) adds regrets that “[e]n France, on a à peu près réussi à l’enfermer [la poésie] dans une boîte à bibelots, qu’on n’ose pas encore jeter par crainte de deux ou trois fastidieuses pétitions” (19), a sentiment counterbalanced in “Une émotion de la forme” (2002) by the idea that “[l]a poésie sert à mieux voir, et plus vite” (22). We learn of his fascination for stylistic combinations, yet also of his desire to limit descriptions in order to keep alive the “principe vital” (24) of all that he observes. The collections in La Diva aux longs cils—“Un jour dans la vie du monde” (2010), “Musée des yeux” (2010), “Les tombeaux bâillent” (2003), “Bestiaire” (2003), “A quoi servent les avions” (2001), “Ce qui se passe vraiment dans les toiles de Jouy” (1999), “Que le siècle commence” (1996) and “Le chauffeur est toujours seul” (1991)—cover a wide range of topics with a mostly sure feel for tone and voice. Amusing, provocative and slightly reactionary, they feature many memorable lines and a certain eclecticism that make them as a whole appealing, if perhaps a bit cloying at times. For example, “Délices de l’erreur” in “Un jour dans la vie du monde” celebrates how “dans la paume des images / par un confort heureux / nous monterons vers les cieux / où l’on cesse ah d’être sage” (33), and subsequent poems delight in juxtapositions such as “Le surfeur” and “Le yorkshire” (39), “Le picador” and “Le catcheur” (42), and “Michel-Ange” at the disco “surmusclé et vêtu d’un short fluo” (48). Layout on the page and economy of style frequently shape our experience of Dantzig’s poetry, as in “Jumelles,” which closes “Les tombeaux bâillent” with the two sole lines “ce tableau me regarde” and “ce poème m’écoute” (77). “Bestiaire” should intrigue students of French thanks to its condensed, accessible focus on the animal kingdom , while “A quoi servent les avions,” “Ce qui se passe vraiment dans les toiles 850 FRENCH REVIEW 84.4 de Jouy” and “Que le siècle commence” add particular zest through their mix of inventive forms and favorite locations, such as Ireland, Manhattan, Boston, London...