Poetics of Childhood: Clothilde Salelle's, Nos insomnies (2025)

Very serious investigations

In her debut novel Nos insomnias (Gallimard, 2025) Clothilde Salelles leads us into the inner world of a child growing up in a family whose existence is marked by an unspoken secret—collective sleeplessness—and the enigmatic presence of the father. The narrative does not depict an idyllic childhood, but rather one constituted by ambivalence, perceptual distortions, and a constant search for meaning. The central question of this article is how the novel, through the child's perspective, develops a specific “poetics of childhood.” It examines how the child interprets the world around them when the adults are silent, and what role language—both its presence and its absence—plays in this construction of reality.

Three central theses guide this study: The world as a puzzle (1): Children's perception in Nos insomnias is characterized by a fundamental mystification of reality. Unspoken secrets and ambivalent behaviors of the adults generate a fantastical and distorted worldview. The Failure and Discovery of Language (2): The novel illustrates the failure of conventional language in dealing with familial taboos. As a result, the child is forced to develop her own, often nonverbal or symbolic, forms of expression and interpretation in order to approach reality. Childhood as a Narrative Quest (3): The protagonist is actively involved in a narrative search for meaning, which manifests itself in detective-like observation, symbolic interpretation, and the attempt to decipher the enigmatic figure of the father. In this way, she tries to piece together the fragments of her experiences into a coherent whole.

The novel tells the story of an unnamed first-person narrator growing up in a rural suburb in the late 1990s. A central and closely guarded family secret is chronic insomnia, which, "like an evil spell," spreads from one family member to the next. The protagonist is an attentive observer, viewing her father, his mysterious work in the laboratory, and his reactions to the outside world (especially noise and the threat posed by the encroaching "lotissement" development) with suspicion and mistrust. She conducts "very serious investigations" to decipher the unspoken truths, but in doing so, she feels envy for her friend Julie's "problems," which are nameable and lend "consistency" to her existence. Summer holidays at a campground offer a temporary respite from the oppressive atmosphere at home; here, her father seems to flourish, and the insomnia recedes into the background, even though eventually even the summer is "contaminated" by it.

The narrator's childhood world is shattered by an unnamed "drama"—which turns out to be her father's death. Her environment reacts with pervasive silence and denial, leaving the protagonist feeling even more isolated in her grief. She tries to uncover her father's secret about the family dog, as she sees the two as existentially connected. The family's insomnia continues, and the young narrator must learn to cope with her own inner rage and confusion. Only in confidential conversations with her mother, often in the car, are the veils lifted, and her mother reveals the true "causes" of her father's problems, rooted in his own childhood. These revelations allow the narrator to process what she has experienced, find her own voice, and free herself from the paralyzing burden of the unspoken taboo by beginning to recontextualize and tell her own story.

The social change in Nos insomnias The narrative is largely illustrated through the depiction of the rural-urban periphery and the introduction of ominous terms related to urban planning and construction. The family lives in a "banlieue périurbaine" (suburban settlement), whose daily life is described as highly segregated and isolated, much like the hedges and fences surrounding the houses. The landscape is characterized by fields, hamlets, and a distant city. However, signs of social change repeatedly intrude upon this environment, perceived by the narrator as underlying threats. A key term symbolizing the anxiety surrounding change is "lotissement" (settlement or building site). This word, along with "autorisation," "mairie," "parcelle," "permis de construire," and the abbreviation "PLU" (Plan Local d'Urbanisme), evokes fear in the parents. The term "lotissement" is associated with uniform houses (beige or white facades, gray or red tile roofs, symmetrical shutters, small fenced gardens, and family cars). The parents fear the "promiscuité" (proximity or lack of privacy) and the undesirable clientele that would move in. The disappearance of the donkey Dédé and the paving of the dirt track leading to the family home are interpreted as harbingers of this change.

The actual commencement of construction on the "lotissement" leads to a new reality, perceived as uncanny and omnipresent. At eight o'clock in the morning, a "monstre de rouille" (a rust monster, an excavator) begins its work, devouring rubble. A "charivari" (a deafening din) of chainsaws, drills, and power saws "colonizes" the family's soundscape. Much like they cope with their insomnia, the parents try to ignore the existence of the construction site. The narrator observes the muscular construction workers, who speak a foreign language and exude a surprising ease, even though their work represents the "apocalypse" for the parents. Later, a proper "immeuble" (apartment building), as is common in the city, is even built nearby, obscuring the horizon and unsettling the mother.

The father is particularly sensitive to the sounds of social change. He suffers from a "désynchronisation des sens," a condition in which sounds infiltrate his body and physically affect him. These include: "laradioduvoisin" (the neighbor's radio) and its "musique debeauf" (a type of background noise); "ladépartmentale" (the departmental road), whose constant hum becomes a whistling at nightfall and haunts his dreams. This road is also dangerous, as cars run over animals; and "lesfoutusavions" (the damned airplanes) of the "couloir aérien" (air corridor), whose noise "scrapes his skull off." These sounds disturb the parents and lead to protests, which briefly make the village seem like a community. The narrator is fascinated by them, as they open "secret doors to the five continents." The worst part is the "bruits d'travaux" (construction noise), which physically torments him and confines him to bed. It causes him physical ailments such as back pain ("maldedos") and headaches ("maldetête"), which is why he often spends the entire day in bed. Silence in the house, out of fear of disturbing his sleeping father, becomes the norm.

In response to the looming demolition, the father begins building a garden shed. This project, originally intended for storing tools primarily used by the mother, becomes a symbolic "struggle for civilization." It represents a counterpoint to the cold perfection and uniformity of the new settlement, emphasizing the naturalness and warmth of wood against the sterile facades of the new houses. The shed is a place where the father's hands come alive again, a battle against the excavator and the rubble. Its charm, however, fades when a new construction site for another large building emerges within sight of the shed. Overall, the novel depicts social change not only through concrete construction activities and sounds, but also through the psychological strain these changes cause on the family members, particularly the father. The taboo of silence surrounding these issues and the drama in general is also addressed.

The world as a riddle and the father

Childhood in Nos insomnias This is not a time of clear understanding, but rather a stage of the permanent deciphering of a world that presents itself to the child in riddles. This manifests itself in the adults' inability to speak directly about family problems and the resulting fantastical interpretation by the child. The family's central secret is insomnia, a sleeplessness that the protagonist perceives not as a medical condition, but as an "evil spell."

Through this metaphor of magic, reality becomes a mystical scenario in which the causes of insomnia appear supernatural. Childlike logic attempts to grasp the incomprehensible through fantastical explanations. The father, whose very existence outside the home already seems questionable ("ce métier n'existait pas vraiment"), contributes to the mystification by speaking of a place called "clairière," which the narrator imagines as "lieu circulaire, entouré d'une voûte arborée et inondé de lumières tombant en cascade"—a magical place that stands in stark contrast to the sober suburban reality. Childhood thus becomes a realm in which reality is distorted through the lens of an imaginative, yet also anxious, perception and imbued with meanings that elude adults. Even mundane everyday noises become "crazy sounds" in the child's imagination, and the father himself takes on the form of an animal in her imagination.

He is characterized as an enigmatic and contradictory figure, a central source of tension and silence within the family. He is often elusive to the narrator, a "shadow figure" or "chimera" whose true professional life and activities in his small office ("cagibi") are questioned. He speaks in "abstract, scientific, and vague" terms. His presence in the house is often only perceptible as a "thick, gray silence." He seems to live in a "world without objects," except for his personal "totems" such as his diary, his cigarillos, his dog, or the Tintin albums. His chronic insomnia is his central, taboo problem and the family's "secret." It manifests in his constant struggle for sleep, as well as in back pain ("mal de dos") and headaches ("mal de tête") that can confine him to bed ("journéedifficile"). Certain noises, such as construction work, the neighbor's radio, the main road, and airplanes, penetrate his body and trigger extreme physical reactions that can paralyze him. The father possesses a "scientific mind" and enjoys solving puzzles (video game "MYST"), but struggles to understand himself. He has a sense of humor, which, however, often manifests itself in disturbing lies or the deliberate creation of panic in the narrator.

Although he is often physically absent or withdrawn, his condition dictates the rhythm and atmosphere of the house. Family life is dominated by the "chutpapadort" (Shh, Dad's sleeping!), which necessitates constant silence and tension. This leads to an "oppressive stillness" and a "thick velvet curtain" of silence. His insomnia and mental health issues are the central, unnamed family secret ("ce qui s'est passé," "la façon dont ça s'est passé"), which cannot be spoken of. This results in a "non-existence without words" for the narrator. The father's "difficult days" affect the entire family, creating "tensions" and "frustrations," and causing family members to suppress their emotions or withdraw. The narrator cannot recall his voice or any specific interactions with him, which underscores the alienation. The family avoids inviting guests for fear that the secret might be revealed. Although his presence is oppressive, it paradoxically offers the narrator a certain "framework" or "meaning" that lends significance to her own existence. The summer camping trip is a rare exception in which the father becomes "a new person" and laughter is shared within the family.

Failure and the Discovery of Language

A central motif of the novel is the silence of the adults and the resulting necessity for the child to find their own way of naming things. The family has an implicit "philosophy" of not naming certain things:

This taboo of silence becomes a "tentacle monster" that stifles communication and forces the protagonist to suppress her own experiences and feelings. She notes with envy how Julie's family has explicit words like "argent" or "connard" for their problems, while her own family remains in vague descriptions or simply silent. The narrator feels trapped in her "non-existence without words to describe it." After her father's death, speaking about him becomes an even greater taboo. Julie's mother even physically prevents it: "She squirted on me and beat my mouth to silence me; she pressed her two small hands against my lips and pressed them so hard and so long that I ended up rubbing her fingers."

The “poetics of childhood” reveals here how the child suffers under the burden of the unspoken, but also how it frees itself from it. The narrator learns to distinguish between the sayable and the unsayable, and finally finds an ally in her mother, who lifts the “veil of silence” and reveals the “complex semantic peninsula” of the father’s past. Through this belated opening, the protagonist can claim the “words that ceased to be pretexts” for herself and tell her own story.

The narrator often uses expressions blended into a single word, reflecting the unspoken familial taboo and emphasizing the omnipresence of problems. Examples include "chutpapadort" (Shh, Dad's sleeping), a constant instruction not to disturb the father, and "journédificil" (difficult day), which encapsulates a complex mood of weariness and frustration. After the father's death, the trauma and the events are initially euphemistically referred to as "ce qui s'est passé" (what happened) and later, somewhat more precisely but still vaguely, as "la façon dont ça s'est passé" (how it happened). This underscores the family's difficulty or reluctance to name the truth directly.

Silence is a central element of the family dynamics. The fact that the family didn't sleep at night is described as a "secret." The "philosophy of the house" was not to speak about the insomnia, to make it a taboo subject, in the hope that it would thereby disappear. This silence is described as "gray and thick" or as a "thick velvet curtain" that envelops the family and swallows everything that is not to be verbalized. It is an "injunction to silence" maintained by the adults.

The narrator recognizes that "things must be verbalized in order to exist." At the same time, words are frightening to adults because they can possess a "harmful power." They can "burn events into memory." Therefore, they avoid clear naming, especially the mother of Julie's friend, who wants to prevent "the way it happened" from "contaminating" her daughter.

The adults' words about serious problems often seem abstract and detached. The psychologist uses the expression "problèmespsychologiques" (psychological problems), which, to the narrator, has "the coldness of neutral knowledge" and is difficult to pronounce. The father himself uses "abstract, scientific, and vague" terms when he talks about his work. Other terms, such as "drame" or "malheur," are also perceived as empty shells, used by the adults as shields to name things without having to talk about them.

After the father's death, his existence is actively denied through language. The family is referred to as "vous quatre" (you four) instead of "vous cinq" (you five). Even possessions, like the car, are reassigned: "lavoituredetamère" (your mother's car) instead of "lavoituredetonpère" (your father's car). When the father must be spoken of, it is done with "stuttering, missing syllables like steps, evasive glances," which underscores the embarrassment and denial of those around him.

As the novel progresses, the narrator discovers the possibility of taking control of her own language. In intimate conversations with her mother in the car, she begins to verbalize the "causes" and the "way it happened." She describes these words as "little lights" and "spotlights on the past," revealing a complex reality in contrast to the "false perfection of smooth appearances and manufactured silence." In the end, she feels the "freedom to choose her own words," and the "words were wild animals to whom their freedom had been returned."

Childhood as a narrative quest and its conclusion

The protagonist is not a passive victim of her circumstances, but an active agent trying to gain control over her own story. Her "investigations" are an attempt to construct a narrative that gives meaning to her chaotic reality.

This almost detective-like attitude reveals a childlike urge to decipher the opaque world of adults. Her fascination with her father's "whispers" from his study, or the notes on his video game "MYST," which evoke "the solution to a puzzle," reflects her own desire to unravel the mysteries of her existence. The figure of her father himself is a constant object of her observation and interpretation: she tries to visualize him outside the home, but she cannot: "I couldn't see him outside the house; his presence in the streets of our village just seemed out of place." This is part of her narrative quest, as she attempts to tell a coherent story about him.

The “Poetics of Childhood” in Nos insomnias It shows how the child not only perceives reality but also actively creates it by trying to fill in the gaps and interpret the unspoken. This narrative search is a survival mechanism that allows the protagonist to overcome the silence and traumas of her childhood and ultimately find her own voice as a narrator, filling the previously "blank page" with meaning.

The father dies as a result of an event described in the novel as "what happened" or "the drama," which occurs at the beginning of summer. The exact method of his death is not explicitly stated, but the narrator provides strong hints and indirectly depicts the circumstances. She describes the father's last day as a sequence of actions that, in retrospect, acquire a deeper, tragic meaning. He spends his final hours shopping: First, he buys a pair of new Nike tennis shoes at a sporting goods store (Decathlon). Just an hour later, at a hardware store (Weldom), he buys an item that later turns out to be a new, very sturdy attachment for the dog's collar. It is equipped with a steel carabiner designed to prevent the dog from escaping. The narrator reflects on how life and death could coexist so succinctly and violently in these seemingly mundane actions. She calls them "a gesture of life" and "the most promising projection into the future."

The narrator has a vivid, dreamlike vision of her father: He lies stretched out on his back, "petrified," with an "octopus" (pieuvre) over his face, giving him a long, gentle kiss. Also present in this scene is a "woman in a white coat" who arranges "tentacle-like threads" on his face, torso, and arms, and touches his forehead. These images suggest a medical context or the immediate aftermath of death. The narrator emphasizes that the father possessed a "dexterity in death" ("dextérité dans la mort"), indicating a conscious and precise act. The combination of the purchase of the collar attachment at a hardware store shortly before "ce qui s'est passé" and the metaphorical depiction of his death suggests that the father took his own life. The new collar attachment may have played a symbolic role or even a tool in the act.

The father's death is the central, yet taboo, secret of the family, never directly discussed ("silence," "on ne faisait rien de ces microrituels"). Only much later does the narrator learn from her mother the background ("la façon dont ça s'est passé"), which is connected to the father's childhood, his profound "unhappiness" ("mal-être"), and a feeling of "eternal failure." This also encompassed his chronic insomnia ("insomnies"), back pain ("maldedos"), headaches ("maldetête"), and his "psychological problems" ("problèmespsychologiques").

The end of the novel Nos insomnias Clothilde Salelles's novel describes the family's life after the death of the father, who is referred to in the text as "ce qui s'est passé" (that which is gone). The final passages from Part III onward reveal a fundamental development in the narrator and her family as they cope with the loss and the previously closely guarded "secret" of her insomnia.

Unexpectedly, on the day of the funeral and in the following weeks, the narrator experiences a kind of weightlessness and relief. This feeling, which initially shamed her and kept secret, transforms into a "pleasant serenity." She perceives her surroundings with a "sudden clarity." This suggests that her father's death represents a liberation from the oppressive atmosphere and unspoken taboo that had previously prevailed in the house.

The mother assumes a new, stabilizing role. She ensures that daily family life remains unchanged and that the "wheels of our existence" continue to turn smoothly. Evening routines become more relaxed and "anarchic." The compulsive nature of the family dinner disappears, and the family often eats at the coffee table in the living room. The car, formerly a place of tension and the "crumbs of the father's sleeplessness," becomes the mother's "territory" and a "haven" for confidential conversations. Here, the father's previously unspeakable "things" can be addressed: his childhood, his unfulfilled dreams, and his psychological problems. The mother unveils a "complex, often contradictory" semantic field and becomes an "enchantress" who imparts "secret knowledge" about the father.

The narrator receives her father's desk, whose significance for her lies in its ambiguity. The discovery of his notes on the video game "MYST" in the locked drawer reveals his "scientific mind" and his delight in solving puzzles—in contrast to his inability to understand himself. The narrator realizes that she cannot recall his voice or specific interactions, but only "smells and images" as well as "persistent words" like "bruitsd'travaux" or "maldedos." Through conversations with her mother and her own reflections, new "fragments" about her father emerge. These reveal him as a "real person" with social relationships and a complex past: his problems at work, his LSD use in his youth, a car accident in which he nearly ran over a pedestrian, his charisma, and his sensitivity. These "oscillations" between the "chimeric shadow" figure of her childhood and the "concrete person" in retrospect make her father appear "very changed after his death." This process of development never ends.

The taboo of silence (“cequisépassé”/“lafaçondontçasépassé”) is gradually broken. The interaction with Leïla, who breaks the silence with the question “What was his name?”, marks a turning point. The narrator realizes that she now has the freedom to choose her own words. These words are no longer “facades,” “fetters,” or “chains,” but rather “Fauves to whom freedom has been restored.” She must “invent a language.” The insomnia, the original family secret, is still present, but it is no longer shameful and can be verbalized. The narrator learns to “control” and “tame” it. She achieves this by focusing on “powerful images”: the car rides with her father that transported her into a “magical calm,” or pleasant holiday memories. Particularly formative is the image of a clearing with deer and stags that she visits in her dreams. This clearing is a place of stillness and connection between the "Fauve" (the dog) and the wild animals. In reality, this place proved disappointing, but in their imagination, it becomes an "antidote to insomnia." It is a place where the "Fauven" are without leash or collar, and a "silent exchange of glances" takes place. This symbolizes the acceptance and integration of the wild, untamed aspects in their lives and in their memories of the father. The insomnia no longer depends on the father's physical presence or condition. It is no longer a mystery and can be "tamed."

Thus, the novel's conclusion can be interpreted as a process of coming to terms with, finding oneself, and re-evaluating the family's past. The narrator overcomes the oppressive silence and diffuse anxieties of her childhood by putting the truth about her father (and herself) into words. The insomnia, initially perceived as a curse, becomes manageable as she learns to use inner images and narratives for soothing. The novel ends with a sense of autonomy and the ability to tell her own story free from the taboos and "facades" of the past.

Conclusion

Clothilde Salelle succeeds with Nos insomnias A portrayal of childhood that departs from a romanticized notion and instead highlights the complex, often unsettling reality of a child's subjectivity. The "poetics of childhood" in the novel is one of enigma and searching gaze, shaped by the familial taboo of sleeplessness and the enigmatic figure of the father. The adults' silence about their "problems" compels the protagonist to actively, often imaginatively, engage with her environment, attempting to decipher the unspeakable and make sense of it. The physical manifestations of this emotional burden underscore the intensity of this childhood experience.

The novel powerfully demonstrates that childhood is not merely a passive experience, but also an active shaping of the world—especially when direct communication fails. The gradual discovery of truth through conversations with her mother and the finding of her own voice symbolize liberation from the burden of taboo. The text itself thus becomes the embodiment of this liberation and the construction of a new, self-determined narrative. Therefore, the novel Nos insomnies is not only the story of a childhood, but also a plea for the transformative power of storytelling and the overcoming of silence. The poetics of childhood in this work owes its existence to the narrator's ability, through literary work, not only to uncover the "secrets" but also to give them their own meaningful form. In doing so, she moves from the passivity of observation to the active creation of her own reality. The book is proof that "a language still had to be invented" to name and understand the incomprehensible.