Plutôt la vie: two perspectives on the revolution
The events of 1968 shaped an entire generation in France and continue to form a complex point of reference for individual and collective self-understanding. Bernard Pellegrin's novel Springemps fragile and Maren Sell's memoir-like narrative Everything is here Each author stages a personal history of 1968, which, through their choice of perspectives, narrative styles, and ultimately their book endings, brings to light fundamentally different interpretations of "May '68": Pellegrin's Springemps fragile is a fictional work that traces the lives of several characters over half a century and reflects on how their hopes and ideals from 1968 have evolved. It is a critical examination of the legacy of the '68 generation: it portrays 1968 as a collective but ultimately disillusioning awakening, whose initial "linguistic revolution" and "insurmountable horizon of revolt" were betrayed, trivialized, or dismissed as an "unnecessary detour" by the protagonists in later life, culminating in a feeling of "post-political trauma" and a failed "ceremony of farewells." In contrast, Maren Sell, a German journalist, writer, and publisher who has lived in Paris since the 1960s, offers her own interpretation in Everything is here Sell sees the period after 1968 as a personal liberation from the burden of German silence about the Holocaust and a departure from the "revolutionary hysteria" of terrorism. She experienced the political and cultural movements of the French left firsthand and was active in the Maoist group Gauche prolétarienne, among others. She finds her "revolution" in the language and culture of France, as a publisher, and through cultivating human connections, which makes 1968 for her a "fertile ground" for a rich, albeit always trauma-ridden, "vie grande" (great life). Both works demonstrate once again that 1968 was perceived either as a profound disillusionment with social utopias or as an individual reinvention in the face of historical burdens.
This has a character of generation, it does not have the same idéaux, but it has the capacity to handle and travel a necessary adaptation to the conditions of the moment. (Pellegrin, Springemps fragile.)
What has characterized my generation is not its ideals, but its ability to betray them by seeing in them a necessary adaptation to the conditions of the moment.
This cynical self-reflection, attributed to Jean-Pierre, a former Maoist, is a central thesis of Pellegrin's work on the '68 generation. He presents 1968 not as the foundation for lasting social change, but rather as an episode whose ideals fell victim to a supposedly "necessary adaptation"—and thus a betrayal. The author suggests that the generation abandoned its own convictions for the sake of personal careers and integration into the established system, making 1968 appear as a failed project marked by a "post-political trauma" and dashed expectations.
Pellegrins Springemps fragile is a multifaceted portrait of the French generation of 1968, tracing the lives of a group of former activists over several decades. At its heart are characters such as Jean-Pierre (JP), Karl, Richard, Anne-Laure, Gégé, and Bernadette, whose journeys from youthful revolutionary ideals to later adjustments, disillusionments, or new forms of engagement are explored. The novel illuminates the gap between initial revolutionary aspirations and the realities of adult life, manifested in career paths, personal struggles, and the erosion of radical convictions. The act of remembering and interpreting the history of May '68 is a central motif, often emphasizing the subjective and fragmented nature of these memories. The narrative details JP's experiences, from his disillusioning factory work in Meulan—which he considers the only truly revolutionary moment of his life—to his later role as a successful businessman. Richard, whose diary serves as an important primary source, describes student activism in Nanterre and the "Night of the Barricades." Anne-Laure's path leads from activism to founding a feminist bookstore and publishing house (P&V Éditions) and then to becoming a political consultant. Gégé, a simple laborer who becomes an activist and later a spokesperson for the homeless, experiences profound disillusionment due to societal indifference. Bruno, a former Marxist-Leninist, transforms into an eco-terrorist. Pellegrin uses Pierrick, a young filmmaker, as a character who attempts to decipher and reinterpret the significance of 1968 for the current generation.
J'écris un poème en français. Ça résonne. J'en écris un other. My new language is in the same language, sonorous. 'On n'est autorisé que par soi-même', a écrit Lacan. This is an invitation to courage. Une gageure, un défi, un gage: on paie une dette en déposant un objet, un livre. The death of my camarades, which qualified as terrorists, also resulted in the vies sacrifices. Je voudrais quand même leur rendre homage, essayer de faire comprendre aux lecteurs français comment l'étau de l'Histoire s'est refermé sur eux, comment la spirale de la violence les a enchaînés. N'est-ce pas le silence de nos parents, l'absence des mots qui les ont poussés au passage à l'acte meurtrier? (Maren Sell, Everything is here.)
I write a poem in French. It resonates. I write another. My new language receives me in its very being, in its sound. 'One is only authorized by oneself,' wrote Lacan. That is a call to courage. A risk, a challenge, a pledge: one pays a debt by depositing an object, a book. The deaths of my comrades, although they were labeled terrorists, were also sacrificed lives. I still want to honor them and try to make French readers understand how the vise of history closed around them, how the spiral of violence chained them. Was it not the silence of our parents, the absence of words, that drove them to murderous acts?
This quote underscores the central role of writing and the French language as an act of personal liberation and active engagement with history. French becomes her "new language," allowing her to break free from the "guilt" of her origins and the "silence" of her parents. Through writing, she attempts to understand and humanize the complex dynamics of the Baader-Meinhof Group by interpreting their radicalization as a consequence of the "absence des mots" (lack of words) of the preceding generation. Thus, 1968 is constructed as a period that demands not only political action but, above all, profound linguistic reflection and the "courage" for self-examination.
Maren Sells Everything is here This is a personal, memoir-like narrative that grapples with identity, memory, and historical trauma, particularly against the backdrop of Maren Sell's life as a German-born, French-based author. The work illuminates her personal history, deeply marked by the shadow of the Holocaust and her family's complex past. The narrative emphasizes the transformative power of language, literature, and human connection in processing these profound experiences. Maren wrestles with her German identity and the associated collective guilt, seeking reconciliation and meaning through her adopted French culture and language. Sell recounts her childhood in postwar Germany, including the disturbing discovery of a photograph depicting Nazi atrocities. Her adolescence is shaped by encounters with literature, music (Wagner, Brahms, jazz, poetry), and first loves, all of which contribute to her developing sense of self. Her move to France and her involvement in the May 68 movement and left-wing activism (including hosting Andreas Baader and Gudrun Ensslin) mark a pivotal period in her personal and political development. Later, as a publisher, she championed European literature and diverse voices to bridge cultural divides and challenge conventional norms. Her reflections also extended to themes such as love, loss, motherhood, and aging, finding solace in her family and the search for connection.
Historical storytelling
Pellegrins Springemps fragile The novel unfolds a panorama of the "May '68 generation" by weaving individual fates into a collective narrative. It employs multiple perspectives, following a diverse cast of characters representing different political currents and social backgrounds. From Maoists (JP, Karl) and Trotskyists (Édith) to Situationists (Paul) and eco-terrorists (Bruno), the spectrum of activism at the time is depicted. This diversity allows Pellegrin to illuminate the ambivalences, transformations, and often disappointing outcomes of the ideals of that era. Many characters undergo a transformation from radical activists to established citizens who view their past with shame or cynicism. The young journalist Pierrick serves as a bridge to the present and as a meta-reflection on the writing of history. He attempts to understand the story of his grandfather Richard, a participant in the "Night of the Barricades," and to interpret it for a new generation. This creates a critical distance to the events, reflecting both admiration and disillusionment with the “events” of 1968.
Maren Sells Everything is here In contrast, Sell chooses a deeply personal, autofictional perspective that inextricably links historical events with the narrator's inner world. Sell's "1968" begins not only with the student unrest but is already rooted in Germany's postwar history and the traumas of the Holocaust, which shaped her identity as a German born in 1945. Her involvement in the Gauche Prolétarienne in Paris and her encounters with figures like Andreas Baader and Gudrun Ensslin are recounted from the introspective viewpoint of a woman who spirals away from violence, seeking instead "revolution" in cultural and linguistic acts. For Sell, 1968 is a catalyst for a personal liberation from the German "culture of silence" and a search for a new, bicultural identity between Germany and France. Her perspective focuses less on the movement's external successes or failures and more on the internal processing of history, guilt, and the significance of language and art.
Narrative styles
Pellegrin's style in Springemps fragile The novel is strongly novelistic, with a clear narrative arc that traces the characters' development over time. It alternates between direct narration, dialogue, and quotations from Richard's diary. The language is often descriptive and detailed when depicting actions (e.g., barricade building) or describing the physical exertion of JP's factory work. Meta-narratives, such as Pierrick's film project, break up the linearity and add a layer of reflection on the representation of history. While the "linguistic revolution" of May '68 is mentioned, the focus is more on the ambivalence of the words spoken at the time and their subsequent "betrayal."
Maren Sells' style in Everything is here Sell's writing is associative, essayistic, and poetic, strongly influenced by her identity as a publisher and lover of literature. She weaves personal anecdotes with philosophical reflections, literary quotations, and contemplations on the power of language. The language is often sensual and rich in metaphor (e.g., Paul's "Symphonie photographique," Rilke's "Panther," Kafka's "Axe"). Sell's engagement with her "two languages" (German and French) becomes a central motif, underscoring the complexity of her bicultural identity and her ability to mediate between different worlds. Her style is intimate and introspective, allowing the reader to delve deeply into her thoughts and feelings, making "Rumeurs de mai" a profoundly emotional and existential experience.
Retrospective self-criticism?
Both works offer a profound exploration of the '68 generation and its aftermath, each characterized by a specific form of self-criticism and the admission of subsequent errors.
In Springemps fragile Self-criticism unfolds primarily through the characters' retrospective reflections, as they evaluate their youthful ideals and actions in light of later experiences. Jean-Pierre (JP), a former Maoist, articulates a harsh critique of the ideologization of his youth: "JP, that you were still an idiot," whispers Jean-Pierre, who has calmed down. "What's left of the GRCP? And Mao? His wart contained all the pus of his Cultural Revolution. What were we thinking, idolizing that almost pedophilic guy?" 1 Here, the “betrayal” of ideals is understood as a pragmatic, albeit morally questionable, adaptation to reality. Dominique Hurel, also a former leftist, goes even further, describing May '68 as a “useless detour” that delayed the development of a more complex political reflection: “You see, it took us twenty years longer to really kill Marxism. […] May '68 was a moment of deferred romanticism, in which a generation, like every generation, believed it possessed the lever that would turn the world upside down, without seeing that the point of application… sank into the soft sand of dusty theories.” 2 He criticizes the dogmatic simplicity of earlier convictions and the rejection of complex thinking as an ideological stance. Bernadette, in turn, undergoes a radical departure from revolutionary violence: “Suddenly she felt that her vision, which she had considered clear, had been clouded for years by the deceptive fires of a struggle that was only beautiful from afar. […] She could no longer distinguish between the fires of revolution and the bonfires of obscurantism.” 3 She recognizes the moral equivalence of revolutionary and repressive violence. Finally, Éliette, another ex-Maoist, describes the ideological aberrations as being inherent from the very beginning: “From the start, the worm was in the fruit, and those whom you are condemning here for extremely serious acts were already guilty when they quoted Mao like Holy Scripture… We were blind and deaf to everything that was not part of our catechism, and this paralysis of the senses… led the weakest among us […] to the highest degree of blindness and deafness, to total schizophrenia.” 4 She sees the root of the later "madness" and "terrorism" in the dogmatic delusion and uncritical Mao worship of the early years. Thus, Pellegrin's book portrays a generation that, in retrospect, perceives its revolutionary "springtime feelings" as fragile, idealistic, and ultimately often betrayed or transformed into pragmatic conformity.
In Everything is here The self-criticism of the narrator, Maren Sell, who speaks from a personal perspective shaped by German trauma, is primarily existential and ethical in nature. She directly links her activism in the 70s to the burden of her origins. Sell's fundamental error, or rather her lifelong struggle, is the acceptance of violence as a means to an end, which she consistently rejects. Her central self-examination is: "And you? Have you killed? [...] The answer is no. I haven't killed anyone." This distancing from the terrorism of the RAF, whose members she sheltered, is a moral reassurance based on fundamental ethical principles ("You will not kill") and psychological insight ("Doing doesn't heal"). She reflects on the RAF's "pulsion of death" and its "hallucination of nothingness" as a misguided path. Sell's criticism is also directed at her own initial naivety as an "over-the-top foreigner" who ignored French political history: "A rather over-the-top foreigner who doesn't know the political history of France." 5 She also admits to having "cheated" the revolution by singing revolutionary slogans during the day but returning to her classics in the evening: "Now that the Mao madness is over, I think to myself that perhaps not everything on our old continent is corrupt. Basically, I always muddled through the revolution. During the day, I hummed along with the comrades: 'We want to make a clean sweep of the past...', and in the evening I returned to my classics: Stendhal, Montaigne, Flaubert, Thomas Mann, Robert Musil, and Baroque music." 6 This is a form of self-criticism regarding her own inconsistent stance. She is particularly critical of the "outrage of transgression" and the "libido" of some '68 figures, whom she identifies as "predators" whose actions caused widespread "ravages." She sees "jouir sans entraves" as a path that led to exploitation and abuse, and laments: "On ne sucuçonnait pas que cette libido ferait de tels ravages." Sell's "1968" is an exploration of personal integrity, the overcoming of historical trauma through nonviolent means, and a critical distance from the destructive excesses of the radical promise of freedom. Pellegrin highlights the collective disillusionment and betrayal of political ideals by the 68 generation as the main mistake, while Sell addresses the individual moral errors, the seduction by violence, and the negative, sometimes destructive consequences of an unreflective "liberation".
What remains?
The conclusions of both books construct insightful, yet fundamentally different interpretations of the legacy of 1968:
In Springemps fragile The “ceremony of farewells” planned by Isa—an attempt to gather her former comrades to consciously bid farewell to their youthful ideals and the past—does not take place. This failure symbolizes the generation’s inability to collectively make peace with its history and find a shared narrative. The ideals have either been betrayed, forgotten, or cynically transformed, as seen in the Lambert brothers’ advertising agency, which profits from Maoist imagery, or in Karl’s political career. Pierrick’s film project, intended to portray 1968 as a “romantic spring,” is turned into a commercial musical production by the Chinese producer Wan. Wan interprets May ’68 as a “circus” and a “distraction for a nation dying of boredom,” highlighting the trivialization and depoliticization of the movement under global capitalism. Richard's quote that their "violent aversion to violence would prevail" contrasts with the later propensity for violence shown by some characters (Bruno) and underscores the internal turmoil. The most pointed concluding remark about 1968 comes from a member of parliament from the new right, who condemns it as a "robbery" of French society and the origin of a profound "laxism" in education and morality. Pellegrin's novel ends with a sense of lingering ambivalence, unresolved conflicts, and skepticism regarding what remains of 1968. The past is not closed, but continues to exert its influence as an "insurmountable horizon of revolt," one threatened, however, by cynicism and commercialization.
Maren Sells Everything is here However, it culminates in a form of reconciliation and integration. The title itself suggests that everything—traumas, joys, mistakes, successes—is part of a larger existence and is "there." Sell's book ends with her decision to travel to India in search of a "greater way of life," a turning away from the Western obsession with consumption and success and a turn toward spiritual values. The "great list" of figures she compiles on the flight to Paris as examples of "men and women of goodwill," including Mandela, Simone Veil, Gorbachev, and the Dalai Lama, demonstrates her continued belief in humanistic values and a positive shaping of the future. Her "being human" is a response to the horrors of the past. Despite acknowledging errors such as "Mao's madness" or the "revolutionary hysteria" of terrorism, Sell emphasizes the importance of empathy, culture, and personal responsibility. She did not kill, but wrote and published books to combat the "absence" of memory and to name the unspeakable. Her conclusion is a plea for life itself, for the ability to find new beginnings and to accept the "wound that cannot heal," while simultaneously celebrating the beauty and freedom of French culture.
The two works thus reveal two fundamentally different constructions. Pellegrin's "1968" is a "fragile spring" whose delicate blossoms quickly withered. It is a collective memory of a revolutionary era of upheaval that largely culminated in compromise, careerism, and disillusionment. The legacy is burdened, the ideals have been "betrayed," and the movement is alternately romanticized, cynically dismissed, or interpreted by the subsequent generation as the root cause of social ills. It is a 1968 that cannot be reconciled, whose wounds remain open, and whose significance in the present is constantly renegotiated without reaching a definitive conclusion. Sell's "1968," on the other hand, is "fertile ground" for profound personal and intellectual development. It is an ambivalent yet essential chapter that contributed to liberation from historical trauma and the formation of an identity rooted in culture and human connection. For Sell, 1968 is not primarily a political success story, but a source of courage and a lifelong commitment to humanism and culture. It is the foundation for a rich and engaged life in which the revolution is not brought to a violent conclusion, but continued through language, empathy, and creative work.
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- "JP, que t'étais con quand même, murmure Jean-Pierre revenu au calme. Qu'est-ce qu'il en reste de la GRCP ? et Mao ? Sa verrue contenait tout le pus de sa révolution culturelle. Qu'est-ce qui nous a pris d'idolâtrer ce type quasi pedophile ?">>>
- "Tu comprends, nous avons mis vingt ans de plus à vraiment tutor le Marxisme. […] May 68 a été a moment de romantisme décalé où une génération a cru, comme à chaque génération, posséder le levier qui soulèverait le monde, sans voir que le point d'application… s'enfonçait dans le sable mou de theories poussiéreuses.”>>>
- "Soudain, elle eut le sentiment que sa vue, qu'elle croyait claire, avait été brouillée pendant des années par les incendies illusoires d'une lutte qui n'était belle que de loin. [...] elle ne voyait plus de difference between les feux de la révolution et les books de l’obscurantisme.”>>>
- “dès l'origine, le ver était dans le fruit et que ceux que vous jugez ici pour des faits d'une extreme gravité étaient déjà coupables quand ils citaient Mao comme les Écritures… Nous avons été aveugles et sourds à tout ce qui ne relevait pas de notre catéchisme et this paralysis of the senses… a conduit les plus faibles d'entre nous [...] au degré suprême de l'aveuglement et de la surdité, à une schizophrénie totale.”>>>
- “Une étrangère assez survoltée, ignorant l'histoire politique de la France.”>>>
- "Une fois la Folie Mao passée, je me dis que tout n'est peut-être pas pourri sur notre vieux continent. Au fond, j'ai toujours triché avec la révolution. Le jour, je chantonnais en chœur avec les camarades: 'Du passé faisons table rase...', et le soir, je revenais à mes classiques, Stendhal, Montaigne, Flaubert, Thomas Mann, Robert Musil et la musique baroque.”>>>