Reviews

The Narrow Waters, by Julien Gracq, Ingeborg Kohn, Ingeborg M. Kohn

jimmylorunning's review against another edition

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3.0

our knowledge is historical, flowing, and flown.
--Elizabeth Bishop, 'At the Fishhouses'
I've never been a good swimmer, but I could take this short pamphlet of a book, I thought. Submerge within its allusions, recollections, and metaphors as Gracq quietly whispers, never above the register of the water itself, serpentine river-like sentences in my ear.

"It tickles" I complain.

"Shhhhh..." Gracq says, grazing at my neck with his soft lips, covering my mouth with his whole hand. His hand smells like rosemary and fir. Up above, the glassy surface of the river remains unbroken. I can see the world as if contained in a ziplock bag, clear as preserved fruits and syrupy sweet.

"None of this is true, is it?" I say.

"There, there..." Gracq says, and starts quoting Poe, Bachelard, and Nerval. I succumb to the forces of literary history, of Gracq's own meticulously reconstructed childhood. I even forget to breathe. Somewhere, a little Gracq is still suspended on those still waters, like a photograph being developed.
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