Hélène Cixous – Rentrée littéraire: contemporary French literature

Mortality and new beginnings: Hélène Cixous

28.10.25

Hélène Cixous's new book, "Ce qui n'était jamais arrivé" (Gallimard, 2025), is a late, poignant meditation on life, language, and death—and at the same time, a poetic testament. "Ce qui n'était jamais arrivé" is a journal of the end, but also a book of resurrection. While the body disintegrates, language lives on—tirelessly, defiantly, and tenderly. Cixous allows her characters—her mother Ève, her father Georges, her brother Pierre, the cats Haya and Isha—to return in a vivid dialogue with the dead. They all inhabit the liminal space between dream and memory, are "revenants" in a theater of voices.

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Virgil and the Scent of the Great Fire

19.08.2401.11.23

C'est le 16 Juillet je scrute le Journal du Ciel. Je note le nom de ce jour, ce matin il vit encore. Dans quelques jours, une semaine, au plus tard, il ne sera plus, j'aurai oublié son nom, je ne saurai plus son âge. It was prudent to inquire in the morning of 16 July, at 5:30 a.m., this time another étoile, seule, nue, pure, un infime trou de lumière dans les ténèbres. Scintille comme le clin d'œil de l'actualité, un pétillement d'En-Haut. My imagination can bring the Ukraine back to the West. Je ne l'exerce pas. L'étoile et my nous nous parlons. Je suis dans l'état de la disciple d'un Virgile du tout premier siècle des apocalypses, qui reçoit une lettre celeste.

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This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.

Society in a mode of fragmentation – literature as a response to the crisis of representation: Robert Lukenda
Robert Lukenda's study, "Representing Society in the Age of Singularities: Narrative Responses to France's Contemporary Crisis of Representation," is a comprehensive analysis of how contemporary French literature responds to the experience that "society" as a coherent whole has become increasingly elusive. Starting with scenes such as Annie Ernaux's ethnographic view of the supermarket or Éric Vuillard's reconstruction of nameless revolutionary actors, Lukenda demonstrates that literature intervenes precisely where political and media discourses distort or fail to capture social reality. In a first, broad theoretical section, he unfolds France's historical and contemporary crisis of representation—from the tension between the republican claim to unity and social inequality to the fragmentation into "France périphérique" and metropolises—before analyzing literary responses in the second part: autosociobiographical self-examinations (Ernaux, Eribon), documentary reconstructions (Vuillard), collective narrative projects ("Raconter la vie"), and serial formats. The review argues that Lukenda convincingly defines literature as a medium of "mediation" that makes social relations visible where classical forms of representation fail; at the same time, it critically emphasizes that this literature often privileges the perspective of the "invisible," while elites, political institutions, and inherent aesthetic logics remain underexposed. These works create an image of a France that only inadequately describes itself—and of a literature that makes this gap visible without being able to fully close it.
A thriller as a Corneille tragedy: Patrick Besson
Patrick Besson's crime novel "Presque tout Corneille" (Stock, 2025, cited as PTC) functions like a Corneille tragedy disguised as a holiday comedy: Georges Charpy, a fired Parisian journalist, encounters his former boss at the Hotel Aiglon in Corsica and begins to humiliate him at every conceivable game—swimming, tennis, chess, table tennis—driven by his Corsican wife, Colomba, who, like Mérimée's eponymous heroine, pushes the man toward a vendetta without ever explicitly stating it, a power structure that the essay identifies as the true center of the plot. Meanwhile, Lisa, the hotel director's daughter, reads Corneille's complete works chronologically by the pool—one tragedy per day—and her quotations comment on the events like a classical chorus: "Qui vit haï de tous ne saurait longtemps vivre" (from Cinna). "Qui se laisse outrager mérite qu'on l'outrage" (from Heraclius). Sentences that circle Corneille's central theme, namely the question of whether man can ever reconcile what he wants with what he is allowed to do, and which in the novel serve to make the act of murder appear morally predetermined, not as an exception, but as a consequence. The boss is found beheaded, later a second character as well; Georges confesses to both murders—the first out of honor, the second out of jealousy—and the essay reads this double murder as evidence that Besson is not introducing Corneille into the thriller genre, but rather showing that the thriller possesses the same moral architecture as classical theater: guilt arises where the will to gain satisfaction is stronger than reason, which urges moderation, and Lisa, who at the end cuts Corneille off—"Oui: trop de sang." —thus performing the gesture that marks the core of the novel: literature can comment on violence, but it cannot stop it.
Beauty, corruption, and literary genealogy: Capote's guilt, Aragon's farewell, Simon Liberati, and Taïné's death
Simon Liberati's "New York City Inferno" (Stock, 2026) concludes a trilogy of novels that began with "Les Démons" (2020) in late 1960s Paris and leads via 1970s Rome ("La Hyène du Capitole", 2024) to 1974-75 Manhattan – a New York at the turning point between pop and punk, between the last glamour of post-war culture and the first dark premonition of an epidemic that has not yet been named. At the center are the Russian-born siblings Tcherepakine: Taïné, androgynous, drug-addicted, proto-punk avant la lettre, who dies on the schooner Elseneur in Palma de Mallorca, and Alexis, the vagabond would-be writer who ultimately takes Capote's money and begins writing the book that is already the first volume of the trilogy—a Möbius strip in which genesis and work are inextricably intertwined. The essay interprets the trilogy as a circular structure: The book that Alexis announces at the end of the third volume bears the same title as "Les Démons," and this circularity is a poetics statement—literature does not arise from emptiness, but from survival, from the material of the dead. Truman Capote, who appears in the novel as a living corpse and gives the student the apostolic mission, is the key figure: Liberati accomplishes what Capote could not with "Answered Prayers" because the social victory had made writing impossible – he writes the American Proust as a French one, with the same social chronicle, the same betrayal, the same conviction that gossip is a literary form, but with the affective charge that Capote's clinical irony lacks. In this constellation, Louis Aragon's brief, hallucinatorily beautiful appearance also gains its full weight: The old communist, who looks through a fogged windowpane at a Balthus tableau and hums Nerval verses, is not only an intertextual gesture, but the witness of the end – the last representative of a European literature of engagement, who bids farewell to Bérénice (the name of the main character in Aragon's "Aurélien"), who, unlike in Aragon's work, is not a historical martyr in Liberati's version, but a purely aesthetic vision of youth, which the old man sees through glass and cannot touch before he disappears down the sandy path, taking an era with him.
The Unreachable City: Sanctity, History, and Violence in the French Jerusalem Novel
What place does Jerusalem occupy in contemporary French literature—and what does this place reveal about literature itself? This essay examines eleven novels and short stories, ranging from André Schwarz-Bart to Nathan Devers, from Valérie Zenatti to Justine Augier, from Élie Wiesel to Mathias Énard, and demonstrates that Jerusalem is never merely a backdrop in these works, but rather a structuring principle: a city that disorients the characters, brings repressed memories back to the surface, imposes affiliations, and shatters established forms. Three functional types emerge from the comparison—Jerusalem as an eschatological space, as a political focal point, and as an existential mirror—which are distributed and overlap throughout the texts without ever converging. A specifically French perspective proves constitutive: Republican secularism, the legacy of the Enlightenment, the experience of the Shoah as part of its own history—all of this colors the perception of a city equally sacred to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and whose threefold sanctity has for centuries produced wars as well as longings. Arab and Muslim authors such as Karim Kattan, Amin Maalouf, and Adania Shibli add their own distinctive emphasis, describing Jerusalem not as the destination of a long-held yearning, but as the starting point of forced exile—and using French as a strategically chosen medium to inscribe Palestinian concepts and experiences into a Western discourse that otherwise does not recognize them. What unites the works examined, beyond all differences, is the awareness that Jerusalem eludes the sovereign narrative gaze: None of these texts triumphs over its subject; all bear the marks of the place where they have failed.
War as a legacy: On the systematics of transgenerational imprinting in the work of Julia Weidmann
This review presents Julia Weidmann's study "Continuum of Wars: Intergenerational Narratives of the World Wars in Contemporary French Literature" (Winter, 2025) as a fundamental, comparative investigation of a central phenomenon in contemporary French literature: the intergenerational narration of the World Wars. The starting point is the observation that subsequent generations—from the "wound" generation to the "inheritance" generation—reconstruct familial wartime experiences in literary form, mediating between archival research and imagination. To this end, Weidmann develops an original model of a "war continuum" that replaces traditional numerical generational categories with a metaphorical, trauma-oriented scale, and operationalizes this concept in a four-stage analytical method, which she applies to a broad corpus of authors (including Claude Simon, Patrick Modiano, Ivan Jablonka, and Anne Berest). The review particularly praises the methodological clarity, the nuanced close readings, and the identification of recurring narrative structures across generations, but also highlights limited weaknesses, such as a certain schematization in the comparative analysis and the relatively marginal treatment of aesthetic details. Overall, the study appears as a substantial contribution to literary memory studies, providing a viable set of tools for analyzing transgenerational memory and simultaneously opening up new perspectives for the exploration of future narrative forms.
Writing against the death of her lover: Céline Zufferey
Céline Zufferey's novel "Maxence" (Gallimard, 2026) is a fragmentarily composed writing project born from the anticipated grief for a lover, defying any conventional love narrative. In loosely connected chapters—lists, miniatures, observations, reflections—a portrait of a man emerges that is simultaneously a love story, a memory experiment, and a poetics-based self-examination, driven by the central tension between the desire to capture the ephemeral and the realization of the fundamental inadequacy of linguistic fixation. The narrator writes against the future loss by meticulously registering Maxence's body, voice, gestures, and everyday practices, while increasingly reflecting that every description remains reductive and transforms the living into a potential "tombeau." The interpretation reveals that this very insight into one's own failure becomes an aesthetic principle: the fragmentary form, the rhapsodic temporal structure, and the shifting address (between third person and intimate "you" to both the living and the anticipated dead Maxence) are not merely stylistic devices, but rather necessary responses to the text's ethical and epistemological dilemma. By systematically uncovering the four axes of reading—love narrative, critique of knowledge, autopoiesis, and reflection on time—and simultaneously uniting the semantic fields of body, archive, and prolepsis, the review reveals a poetics of pre-mourning in the novel, in which death does not appear as an event, but as a permanent inscription into the present, leading to an intensification of the everyday: the writing, intended to banish loss, thus itself becomes a medium of heightened presence, without ever resolving the fundamental contradiction between life and recording.
Francesco Petrarch and his followers: Étienne Anheim
Étienne Anheim's "Pétrarque: portrait de famille" (Minuit, 2026) reconstructs Francesco Petrarch's literary project as the result of dense familial entanglements and understands his work as a discursive "family portrait" in which genealogical construction, social embeddedness, and poetic self-stylization are inextricably intertwined. Based on a combination of textual analysis and archival research, Anheim demonstrates how Petrarch mythologizes his origins along a patrilineal notary genealogy, while simultaneously systematically marginalizing or silencing key figures—especially his mother, daughter, and the mothers of his children. The constellations of father (as a professional model to be overcome), brother (as a spiritual alter ego), Laura (as a real void, imaginary lover, and symbolic cipher of poetry), as well as children and friends, unfold as structuring relationships within which Petrarch shapes his authorial identity. Writing thus always appears as an addressed, fragmentary practice within an extended "familia" composed of relatives, correspondents, and literary successors. Anheim does not resolve the tensions between archivally reconstructible social history and literary self-presentation, but rather understands them as a productive site where Petrarch invents his own genealogy and simultaneously establishes the model of modern authorship—a model based on selective memory, symbolic reshaping, and the transformation of familial bonds into literary transmission.
Exchange and misunderstanding: Jacques Decour, Philisterburg
Jacques Decour's "Philisterburg" (1932, Éds. Allia, 2023) is paradigmatic as a text of a poetics of the "in-between": a hybrid work between diary, essay, travelogue, and political diagnosis, which, from the perspective of a young French student of German studies, explores Germany in the late Weimar Republic while simultaneously reflecting on the epistemic conditions of this observation. At its core is not a one-sided portrayal of the foreign, but rather the productive tension between proximity and distance, between participation and critical self-examination, which manifests itself both formally—in the interweaving of narrative and essayistic passages—and in terms of content. Decour's text unfolds a dense panorama of social, political, and cultural forces in which characters appear less as individuals than as bearers of structural positions within the Franco-German relationship. Particular attention is paid to the role of language and translation as sites of both misunderstanding and insight, the analysis of stereotypes and enemy images, and the comparison of different educational systems as expressions of divergent worldviews. Against the backdrop of the escalating political situation around 1930, the portrayal gains a prophetic sharpness without ever lapsing into deterministic certainty. The review highlights how Decour understands the "in-between" not as a harmonious synthesis, but as a conflict-ridden, knowledge-generating space in which cultural difference becomes visible and conceivable – and how precisely this literary stance lends the text its enduring relevance and intellectual urgency.
Building bridges, deepening ditches: Pauline Dreyfus
Pauline Dreyfus's "Un pont sur la Seine" (2025), beginning with the catastrophe of a ferry accident in 1828, unfolds the story, spanning generations, of two village communities separated by the Seine, whose fates are intertwined in the construction, destruction, and reconstruction of a bridge. Through the Vernet family and its genealogical branches, the novel traces the transformation from an agrarian milieu to an industrial society and onward into a post-industrial culture of memory, with historical turning points—wars, the Popular Front, occupation, deindustrialization—inscribed as structuring forces in the lives of its characters. At the same time, the narrative insists on its own artificiality: characters appear less as psychologically singular individuals than as typified bearers of social positions, whose conflicts—for example, between a vintner and a factory worker, a Resistance heiress and a politician of memory—make the persistence of societal divisions visible. The essay explores how the central poetic principle of the novel lies in the multidimensional construction of the bridge: as a historical object, a topographical axis, a social diagnostic tool, and a philosophical metaphor that, in the sense of a self-reflexive poetics of history, does not foster reconciliation but rather produces and makes visible difference. In this dialectic of documentation and fiction, of historical accuracy and ironic distance, Dreyfus's text proves to be both a conscious continuation and a critical break with the tradition of the historical social novel: he demonstrates that the grand narratives of progress and connection fail in the face of micro-social realities and that every form of historical narrative—in the novel as well as in the museum project he conceived—must necessarily reflect on its own logic of construction.
Israel, Gaza and the French intellectual discourse after October 7: Interpretive authority according to Denis Sieffert
This review analyzes the French intellectual debate following October 7, 2023, as a deeply polarized field of discourse in which three central positions emerged: a dominant pro-Israel camp, a marginalized pro-Palestinian spectrum, and a fragile, long-silent intermediate position. At its core is Denis Sieffert's book "La mauvaise cause" (2026), which is read as a committed counter-argument to what he sees as a hegemonic, pro-Israel discursive order. The review meticulously reconstructs Sieffert's argument—from France's historical entanglement with Israel and the analysis of media and rhetorical mechanisms to his critique of prominent intellectuals such as Gilles Kepel and Eva Illouz—and demonstrates that his central point of departure lies in the repoliticization of the conflict as a colonial issue. In comparison with Kepel's geopolitical-religious studies approach and Illouz's sociological critique of the Western left, the review highlights the fundamental epistemic differences between these positions: While Kepel and Illouz problematize the reactions to October 7th, Sieffert focuses on the mechanisms of discursive power and the rendering invisible of Palestinian suffering. In conclusion, the review assesses the book as an important, albeit not unproblematic, intervention that exemplifies the political, media, and moral fault lines of contemporary France.
Bridging the gap and self-correction: Ernst Robert Curtius
Ernst Robert Curtius's "The Literary Pioneers of the New France," a product of the immediate postwar period born from the experience of political defeat, opens up a deliberately counter-movement, a European-oriented interpretive space. By presenting key French authors (Gide, Rolland, Claudel, Suarès, Péguy) as bearers of an intellectual renewal in 1918/20, Curtius engages less in neutral literary mediation than in a cultural-political intervention against national resentments and stereotypical images of France. This review highlights that Curtius's argument rests on a twofold movement: on the one hand, the deconstruction of the German cliché of rationalist, "Latin" France through the demonstration of transnational, and especially "Germanic," influences; on the other hand, the construction of a "true France" that can serve as a pedagogical projection screen for a renewed, European-oriented Germany. The tension between documented enmity (for example, in the case of Suarès) and its programmatic overlay through the idea of Europe is not leveled, but rather read as a productive contradiction. The review critically highlights the book's selective approach and its philosophical hierarchy of values, which excludes certain currents of thought while normatively elevating others. Overall, Curtius's study thus appears as a project that is both bound to its time and methodologically groundbreaking: a rhetorically driven self-correction of national perceptions that places literary studies in the service of intellectual understanding.
The Sitcom Dictatorship: Political Thought, Literary Form, Machiavelli and Giorgia Meloni in Hélène Frappat
Hélène Frappat's novel "Nerona" (2025) portrays the rule of a right-wing populist dictator as a simultaneously grotesque and frighteningly precise model of contemporary politics: In an unnamed European nation, Nerona governs by decree and constant media staging, while a polyphonic, fragmented narrative structure – speeches, interviews, prophetic chants, film scenes – makes visible the simultaneity of power, violence, and repression; central motifs are the mythologizing of one's own origins, the systematic construction of "enemies within," the perversion of humanitarian discourses, for example in the migrant camp, and the escalation to apocalyptic self-destruction, which culminates in the figure of the Matricidium and the Nero topos. The review argues that Frappat's literary form itself generates knowledge: by modeling populism as a "sitcom"—an endless repetition of affective and rhetorical patterns devoid of learning—she combines genre poetics with political theory; at the same time, the review reads the novel as a Machiavellian parody in which classical concepts like "virtù" or "fortuna" are transformed into cynical management logics. The intertwining of discourse analysis and aesthetics is highlighted: the polyphony functions as a democratic counter-model to monologic populism, while the figure of Nerona can be read as a condensation of real political actors (especially Giorgia Meloni) without lapsing into mere satire. Overall, the interpretation shows that Frappat's novel is less a dystopian exaggeration than a diagnosis: populist rule appears as a regime of language and perception, against which literature, through its formal complexity, offers a critical counter-perception.

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