Smells like teen spirit demarre. Quelqu'un monte le son. On se lève tous d'un bond pour entamer un pogo furieux et chaotique. Les 10 m2 The room is transformed and destroyed. On chante à tue-tête les quelques paroles qu'on croit connaître, en fermant les yeux. The esprit adolescent is là, in the chacun de nous, the exudation of our pores, the irradie la pièce. It's in Seattle, in Washington, in London, and the people are there, in this small town, for nothing, insignificance and without avenir. On est jeunes, vivants, pleins d'illusions déjà presque perdues. On se sent forts tous ensemble, on communie dans le déluge de décibels. A veillée funèbre grunge and désenchantée for the icon disparue.
Que nous reste-t-il désormais ? Le bac dans quelques mois, et après ?
Les épaules se heurtent, les cheveux fouettent les visages, on se percute violemment, certains tombent sur le lino, d'autres sautent sur le lit, les corps exultent. This means that you can have fun on the september, even if you are fond of it, but it is also cramer, and you will see it before you. Le monde ne nous laisse presque rien, la vie n'a plus de promesse à nous faire. On this is a generation of sacrificial, a youthful déjà vieille, lourde de son heritage, courbée sous the poids des années à venir, cruelles et grises.
Not here for adults. On ne veut pas d'une vie petite. On ne veut plus croire en rien.
On se sent souls, abandonnés. Et on a reason.
Joseph D'Anvers, Un garçon ordinaire (Éditions Rivages, 2023).
Smells like teen spirit It starts. Someone turns up the volume. We all jump up and begin an angry, chaotic pogo. The 10 m2 The room transforms into a saving and destructive arena. We sing at the top of our lungs the few lyrics we think we know, closing our eyes as we do so. The youthful spirit is there, in each of us, seeping from our pores, radiating throughout the room. We're in Seattle, Washington, London, or anywhere else, but not here, in this city that's too small for us, insignificant and without a future. We are young, alive, full of illusions that are almost lost. We all feel strong together, communicating in the flood of decibels. A grungy, sobering wake for the deceased icon.
What options do we have now? Our final exams in a few months, and then what?
Shoulders collide, hair whips across faces, we crash violently, some fall onto the linoleum, others leap onto the bed, bodies cheering. We tell ourselves that if you can die at 27, you might as well go all in, burn yourself alive, send everything to hell, and take what you can get. The world leaves us with almost nothing, life has nothing left to promise us. We are a sacrificed generation, an already aging youth, burdened by our legacy and bowing under the weight of the coming cruel and gray years.
We don't want to grow up. We don't want a small life. We don't want to believe in anything anymore.
We feel lonely and abandoned. And we're right. 1
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
Notes- "There are six of them. Young, rebellious, and carefree. Idealistic and uncompromising, they navigate their teenage years with dreams too big for them. In three months, they'll graduate from high school. But today, Kurt Cobain is dead… And everything is thrown into disarray. How can you build yourself up when everything around you is shaking and your points of reference are exploding? How can you enjoy the last moments before adulthood when society holds a future in store for them that they don't want? They are the last representatives of Generation X, experiencing the first hours of a world in upheaval. The year is 1994. Soon, nothing will be the same. In this chronicle of fragmented lives, Joseph d'Anvers delivers a brilliant snapshot of an era in flux. Singer, boxer, director, and cinematographer—Joseph d'Anvers is an artist with many lives. An Ordinary Boy is his third novel." (Translation of the publisher's announcement)>>>
