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Sto caricando le informazioni... Il rapporto (2007)di Philippe Claudel
EU Fiction: 1950-2022 (108) Sto caricando le informazioni...
Iscriviti per consentire a LibraryThing di scoprire se ti piacerà questo libro. Attualmente non vi sono conversazioni su questo libro. I am Brodeck, and I had nothing to do with it.So begins Philippe Claudel's brilliant novel about xenophobia, narrated by the eponymous Brodeck. Of an ambiguous national identity, living in an unspecified country just on the heels of World War II, Brodeck is the outsider par excellence: a man who has spent time in the concentration camps to return home to the same villagers to find their attitudes toward him altered, his position always uncertain and unclear. This is also underscored by his changed familial relations upon returning from the camps. Brodeck begins post de facto: The "it" with which Brodeck claims emphatically that he has had nothing to do only becomes clear by the end of the text. An incident has occurred, and the villagers have unanimously enlisted Brodeck to write a report of the events leading up to it, an act of rhetorical self-defense for the village. The collective guilt and shame the villagers feel to make such a report necessary are juxtaposed in liquid prose with Brodeck's own individualized feelings of guilt and shame, a "conflict between knowledge and ignorance, between solitude and numbers." As he undertakes to write this report ("a cross which was not made for my shoulders and which didn't concern me"), Claudel allows Brodeck to tap into questions of reality versus fiction, what makes something true or false (depending on the amount of people who claim something is true despite it being far from it), and also a kind of Freudian analysis of group psychology: the group's word is gospel, and Brodeck is being forced to write for a group of which he is not truly a part. How can a person speak for another, or for a group of others, when one's subjective truth is at variance with the account expected of those who hold and wield power? I thought about History, capitalized, and about my history, our history. Do those who write the first know anything about the second? Why do some people retain in their memory what others have forgotten or never seen? Which is right: he who can't reconcile himself to leaving the past in obscurity, or he who thrusts into darkness everything that doesn't suit him?Brodeck's work on the report dredges up memories of his past—not only are we privy to his pre-war memories, but we also experience along with him a resurgence of violence as his horrific piecing together of events at the camp which cause him to realize that he has been lying to himself: "of all dangers, memory's one of the most terrible." As such, we see made manifest the latent and repressed content of an individual's life, brought to the level of consciousness, a task that is related to his vocation as a writer and one that requires Brodeck's narrative to follow no logical in the way of temporality, but one that also involved a kind of subterfuge (even from oneself): I keep going backward and forward, jumping over time like a hurdle, getting lost on tangents, and maybe even, without wishing to, concealing what's essential.While Brodeck becomes more conscious of his own life narrative, and his complicity, this is a self-awareness that Claudel develops alongside a group of others who are asking him to do the exact opposite—namely, to repress, to document falsities, to erase, to render into nothingness. Claudel's prose is fluid, brisk, and lucid as he allows the reader, by way of Brodeck, to experience revelation and annihilation, individual growth and group oppression: I think we've become, and will remain until the day we die, the memory of humanity destroyed. We're wounds that will never heal.I cannot recommend this book highly enough: it will stay with you long after you've finished journeying along with Brodeck, haunting you, making you ponder the nature of subjective truth as unwaveringly and as bravely as Brodeck does here, reconciling the horrific with the sublime: "Sometimes you love your own scars." Apenas ha transcurrido un año desde el final de la Segunda Guerra Mundial cuando un asesinato rompe la tranquilidad de un pequeño pueblo perdido en las montañas. El único extranjero del lugar, a quien llaman De Anderer (El Otro, en alemán), ha sido asesinado y todos los hombres de la localidad se confiesan autores del crimen. El herrero ordena a Brodeck, el único hombre del pueblo que tiene estudios, y que es ajeno al asesinato, que redacte un informe sobre lo sucedido "para que quienes lo lean puedan comprender y perdonar". Brodeck, que trabaja para la Administración Central redactando documentos sobre la flora y la fauna de la región, se ve obligado a aceptar el siniestro encargo. Los testimonios de unos y de otros reconstruyen la vida del Otro desde su llegada, pero remueven asimismo sucesos del pasado, de un tiempo que Brodeck querría olvidar. Poco a poco, Brodeck reúne las piezas y descubre una verdad que no sólo concierne al extranjero, sino que los amenaza a él y a su familia. Lu après la sublime adaptation en BD par Larcenet… Quel choc ! Il est difficile de reprendre son souffle après une telle lecture. Magnifique et pourtant d’une noirceur abyssale. Un livre sur les pires vomissures dont les hommes sont capables, sur la guerre et la haine de l’autre, les fascismes, les compromissions et les exactions. Mais aussi par effet de miroir, un conte sur la beauté simple de l’amour qui tente sans jamais perdre espoir, de survivre dans toute cette saleté. Bouleversant
Uncertainty is a major theme of Claudel's novel, which is both fable-like and documentary in style. While it is concerned with difference and intolerance as abstract, universal themes, Brodeck's Report is also a historical novel about a camp survivor (Brodeck) and the effect of Nazism on a specific place, assumed to be a German dialect-speaking part of Alsace Lorraine. “La estupidez es una enfermedad que casa con el miedo. Una y otro se alimentan mutuamente, creando una gangrena que sólo pide propagarse…” Philippe Claudel Apenas acabada la guerra, una muerte rompe la tranquilidad de un pequeño pueblo perdido en las montañas. El único extranjero del lugar, que un día llego al pueblo, vestido a la antigua, con gran lujo y acompañado de un caballo y un asno, a quien llaman Der Anderer —el Otro, en alemán—, ha sido asesinado y todos los hombres de la localidad se confiesan autores del crimen. Todos menos Brodeck. Esta historia no constata la realidad de los hechos, pues los testigos, abren a sus ojos diferentes puntos de vista, que la camuflan, para hacerla torpe, innoble y ciertamente falsa. Ha l'adattamentoPremi e riconoscimentiElenchi di rilievo
Winner of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize 2010 A murder investigation in post-war France becomes an exploration of the legacy of German occupation. From his village in post-war France, Brodeck makes his solitary journeys into the mountains to collect data on the natural environment. Day by day he also reconstructs his own life, all but lost in the years he spent in a camp during the war. No-one had expected to see him again. One day, a flamboyant stranger rides into the village, upsetting the fragile balance of everyday life. Soon he is named the Anderer, "the other", and tensions rise until, one night, the newcomer is murdered. Brodeck is instructed to write an account of the events leading to his death, but his report delivers much more than the bare facts: it becomes the story of a community coming to terms with the legacy of enemy occupation. In a powerful narrative of exceptional fascination, Brodeck's Report explores the very limits of humanity. Non sono state trovate descrizioni di biblioteche |
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Google Books — Sto caricando le informazioni... GeneriSistema Decimale Melvil (DDC)843.92Literature French French fiction Modern Period 21st CenturyClassificazione LCVotoMedia:
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And I think one reason it is successful (or so successful) is that Claudel is extremely careful to strip the narrative of identifiying references, though it is abundantly clear that this story recounts a Holocaust experience. But even its setting, though likely to be eastern France, is disguised and never named. I don’t believe the word “Nazi” or “Jew” ever appears. Nor, indeed, do “German” or “French” or “Russian.” Claudel indeed goes to great lengths to universalize his story. (I think it is one small measure of his success that the five-star reviews on Goodreads are in so many languages, from Dutch to Arabic, Lithuanian to Portuguese, French and Spanish to Hebrew and Vietnamese.)
The story, and it’s an extraordinary one, is simple: Brodeck must write a report for the authorities about the Anderer (the “Other”), a stranger who came to their little town and was murdered. In fact, the story is about Brodeck and it is Brodeck who is the “Other,” as is made clear by his own story. I have not read many novels in fifty-plus years of reading fiction that forced me to think about the questions and issues Claudel raises. But this is one of them. Claudel is merciless and if you read this book, you cannot avoid thinking about these questions. ( )