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A review by julia_may
Paris Nocturne by Patrick Modiano
2.0
A weird little novella. Reminded me of the movie Memento - a protagonist with a faulty and unreliable memory trying to piece together his distant and not so distant past, a mysterious woman, somewhat menacing characters, a noir-ish atmosphere. At first it seems like he is exclusively obsessing about a car accident that has just happened and which involved the mystery woman he wants to track down, but then it becomes clear that there are multiple timelines and he is narrating from a distance of several decades later, while also trying to reconstruct events of his childhood prior to the accident.
The writing is simple, and the novella strangely compelling, but the whole thing reads like a drug- (or dementia-)affected stream of consciousness and I found it... well, tiresome. It is difficult to follow the meandering thoughts of a character whose memory is unreliable and who is confusing multiple events and multiple people that he had met at different times. It's like trying to talk to a drunk person.
Apparently one of the pet themes of the author is the unreliability of memories and this is definitely the key issue explored here, and that's what kept me reading.
I must mention that I found the protagonist (whose name we never learn) to be quite a menacing character. I think we were supposed to sympathise with him, but I found it uncomfortable and awkward in his head. I think maybe he was meant to come across as sensitive and traumatised, but I got the impression of low key danger and volatility from him. His obsession with finding the mystery woman disturbed me, as did the nonchalance with which the author treated it.
The writing is simple, and the novella strangely compelling, but the whole thing reads like a drug- (or dementia-)affected stream of consciousness and I found it... well, tiresome. It is difficult to follow the meandering thoughts of a character whose memory is unreliable and who is confusing multiple events and multiple people that he had met at different times. It's like trying to talk to a drunk person.
Apparently one of the pet themes of the author is the unreliability of memories and this is definitely the key issue explored here, and that's what kept me reading.
I must mention that I found the protagonist (whose name we never learn) to be quite a menacing character. I think we were supposed to sympathise with him, but I found it uncomfortable and awkward in his head. I think maybe he was meant to come across as sensitive and traumatised, but I got the impression of low key danger and volatility from him. His obsession with finding the mystery woman disturbed me, as did the nonchalance with which the author treated it.