Tawnee Stone Look-a-likes

News. Chevaillier - Ray - Wachill - Venaille - Romaris / White Collection, Gallimard. Poetry.

I could title my blog "On a park bench in summer, because the fine weather - Ah! the heyday - are there for a good while yet. I might as well call it "waiting room, in the fall," because ... we know why, do not insist. To read this wooden bench or on the plastic chair, nothing beats a book of poetry. You read a poem or a piece of poem, then let you trot in your head, nose in the air ... to admire the scenery or to let-excuse me, madam, pardon. sir, for supporting the "confusion of voices." Try it, you'll see "it works". A novel, a story, essay ... is to travel by train. Exactly, in my next blog, I will propose a story to read on the train ... or at home.

I delved into the White Collection Gallimard new. Here they are, in order of reading:
[] Chevaillier Louis, a young poet who seduces us with her imagination with its "trance Icarus";
[] Lionel Ray, who suggests the harmonious sounds of his words in "Between Night and solei the "
[] Hassam Wachill we play musical scores in "The Shore wandering "

[] Venaille Franck, large Walker and poet, recognized as a "smuggler of emotions and challenges" gives us his incomparable singing in "The Descent of Lescaut";

[] Romanès Alexander, in a naive style, gives his thoughts and trace tables anchored in daily life, family life, near death, in " On the shoulder of the angel " with a foreword by Christian Bobin
Here then, for each of these books, abstracts and reviews.

Louis Chevaillier - Icarus trance
¬ ¬ __ Metro
"The Metropolitan
he pitches and I think I see this confusion of voices swell and turn

to believe that only those who read

are dumb if d Other défrisent
is the shadow of a city on the temples of the Nile where the eye
racy
flies to other vines
at the right times is such that the flood
I do not remember thinking. "
ICARUS IN TRANCE, White Collection, Gallimard, 72 pages, 2010.

comment.

"... The Thinker" by Rodin sneezes and underground pitches on the Nile. The city has no borders, but continues to Dakar, Brasilia, Essaouira, Ankara. Pigalle Montparnasse, Louis Chevaillier through the capital like a mirror. It is a very sad heir, very funny, surreal. "

" If Paris is the eye / how long are the eyelashes. Trance assured. "Jerome Garcin, BibliObs (1)

Lionel Ray - Between night and sun
¬ ¬ __ first extract
"Here I am again among the scattered words ,
Is the center, outside, on the outskirts?
I do not know who I am, know themselves
Or do not know, but still pursuing them

In my stubborn way, I measure one
At the other that valuable time has passed,
A time never to return. And I like a blind
I am someone who seeks a world

Away. It is still early. The sun has not yet
put his claws soft light on the page

And I hardly distinguishes vowels and consonants,
These phrases are like me and sometimes
Move away out to me, scattering here and there a star or dust
Nothing, just shadows that do not recognize. "

Lionel Ray - Between night and sun
¬ ¬ __ second extract
"... a voice suddenly as close to the horizon
perfection of oblivion is the touch of an invisible fire
this thread unknown empire thirsts
your voice like a touch of Fern is a dream where
die without any injury to himself the real seems to have been invented
this morning with refinements of primroses
this cool white inexplicable manner second life
a shoreline where we just lose his shadow once and for all

your voice oh my mirror my dance my opera. "
BETWEEN NIGHT AND SUN, White Collection, Gallimard, 112 pages, 2010.

Commentary and extract.
"Listen to finally swish harmonics Lionel Ray, on the pace a bit lame that reminds us Armen Lubin, Claude Pirotte, The Express (2) :
¬ ¬ __ Between night and sun
" This hour alone in the summer twilight :
we hear already more than a noise of keys.
Words change, sand more shine, no haze
or otherwise reflect the voice.
Words change and basic window
worried the extra silence that penetrates.
dust forever, is it a god who sleeps in the memory
strange dawn? Or
years later
back from having lost the light path?
Winter is near and its sweetness is beyond
and night turns into me giddily.
The beauty hangs from the rope
as a body worn, groaning. "


Wachill Hassam - The Wandering Shore

"I hear your breathing
on the roof of my
laugh ... so close ... no fear
and see through the large window
the station one afternoon ...
Later, promises the gray
deep over
glass and tracery
scrap through which I see
grasslands in the sky.
WANDERING THE SHORE, White Collection, Gallimard, 104 pages, 2010.

Commentary and extracted .
"And then what about the work of Wachill Hassam, except that the music permeates and transcends it. Claude Pirotte, The Express (2) :
¬ ¬ __ The shore A voice wandering
follows a line with sentences that only she must bear
, we believe it will go out among the trunks
slender, it will go away in solitude
grass with black brush is
then it becomes more nostalgic
but without becoming a mere ornament, the melody still very pure. It seems
wrap the earth in which it is output as
to swallow in its melody
as a mother who wants to bless the work lost
spoofed by early spring torrents.


Franck Venaille - The descent of the Scheldt

Presentation.

"With The Descent of the Scheldt, Franck Venaille stands closest to the land, banks, the country he's emblem. He walks between France and Belgium, is dreaming, wanting, is revealing "Flemish". Venaille's voice, urgent, sharp, jerky, eddies or slow drifts, gradually changing a painful experience, one for murder in a wide vocal control. Polyphonic rhythms that welcomes all to lead the most worthy and most relentless quest, The Descent of the Scheldt itself as a major work. There is, digging in the depths of terror, a word full of nobility which, with one voice, knows how to create challenge and tenderness.

"sarcastic, desperate, violent, cold and brittle, Franck Venaille heard since his first collection of 60s, a singular voice, even in solitary expression of brotherhood. First poet "living in revolt," the cry in the form of exorcism, Venaille then became a writer of conscience. The spontaneous eruption, walk behind several screens and write accesses to the labyrinth, the inner process that renders hollow strips and simultaneously obscures. Each poem, each story are being invested scrupulous obsessions, phrases brutally stamped, and put the meaning to live and feel alarm.
But in Venaille, rehashing the tragic distrusts the trappings of tragedy, he turned instead to the savage irony, like a sudden stab, and the antics tinted semen and blood. Especially, the arrangement of sentences, the scansion of poetry, the writing profession that almost ritualized, it can choose its territories and to invent his own language.
From source to mouth, it follows the river, he followed his river, his poem. Literally and step by step, he composed a "Poem river" who keeps his ear to the echoes of Maurice Maeterlinck :

" Perhaps diseases, sleep and death are parties deep, mysterious and misunderstood of the flesh . THE DESCENT OF

SCHELDT followed TRAGIC, preface by Jean-Baptiste Para Collection Poésie / Gallimard, 320 pages, 2010. (3)

Comment and extracts.

"A man walks obstinately along a slow river, the hills of Artois in the North Sea. In this rite of passage "into the crack of the world" was born a vast and sublime poem, The Descent of the Scheldt (Obsidiane 1995), which could be a drunk or a boat Prose of the Transsiberian our time. (...)

From upstream to downstream, first and foremost a journey of nearly five hundred kilometers through the towpaths, docks and warehouses.
" Walker, O sentinel / what do you think of the night? / Pops Anchor / Complaints barns open on the water. / Walker, O night watchman / Who is this man 's activating near the fire? "

But the traveler, the "wanderer" loner - a "refractory happiness" which also works to get to know - Questions the meaning of this redemptive work:

" What I want does not equate to beauty. What I receive is like the river of grace." "

" Fougue black and asceticism. In this large beautifully mastered song, "the tone Venaille" is necessary, beyond the poetic forms and rhythms more varied. It is, closer to the breath, a writing from the depths, as the maelstrom came with his vehemence and his silent cries.

But the poem is punctuated by numerous citations highlight, Emile Verhaeren, Hugo Claus, Henri Michaux and especially in the heart of the book, it, of Maurice Maeterlinck : "It may be that diseases, sleep and death are parties deep, mysterious and misunderstood of the flesh." could also detect the influence of painting or Permeke Ensor. (...). Monique Petillon, The World of Books. (4)

Alexander Novels - On the shoulder of the angel

Preface. "See Alexander novel is about the ordeal of the greatest spiritual nakedness. Just a voice and especially the tone of his voice: a string lute pinch up the bones, which lute he played in his youth. The dead must speak with the same sweetness deaf and without reproach. A reading is like going through a tear. This tear the poet refuses to pay because the deep humanity of his book. It is water, that's all, and a little salt brilliant. In the last part of the book, there is air. We reached the house of resurrections. Sweetness unmixed, so pure that it shattered the glass of death. It is the silence which now holds the book in his hands. " Christian Bobin

Contents.
Small pieces for lute / In the grass tender, 48 / The accuser, 64 / Close to you, 72 / Sunny Days, 80.

Extracts (the poems are untitled, the asterisks are the author, the pages are airy) .
¬ ¬ __ On the shoulder of the angel
" Heaven, and God give
In the Gypsy language,
is the same word. '(Np)

" Small Parts Lute "(np)

" I divided the world into two :
one hand there is what is poetic
Across what is not.
What is poetic is in my eyes,
This is not poetic
I do not even look. "(P.19)

" I have not been to school And
I do not feel no regret.

* People who believe themselves important
Have in my view less important
What children's drawings

* The first time I called Mr.
That
I was stunned.
Over time I got used
But I still see myself
As a boy of ten years. "(P.20)
SHOULDER OF THE ANGEL, White Collection, Gallimard, 96 pages, 2010. (5)

Wild imagination, harmonic sound, musical score, a long song, a simple poetry.

Belle is poetry!

will be your Lovely Sunday in early August: this is my wish!

_____

Sources consulted:
(1) Icarus trance by Jerome Garcin, BibliObs .
(2) The chronicle of Jean-Claude Pirotte The song entitled, poetic ideal , Express .
(3) On the site of Gallimard, like the other extracts.
(4) The Descent of the Scheldt followed Tragic, Franck Venaille: the "Winter Journey" Franck Venaille by Monique Petillon, The World of Books.
(5) Gallimard, on the site Eden books.