Scan barcode
A review by nathalieokdeh
Consent: A Memoir by Vanessa Springora
5.0
“Does literature really excuse everything?”
This book is Vanessa Springora’s memoir about her “relationship” with the previously famous french author, Gabriel Matzneff, referred to as G. in the book.
For reference, she was 13-14 and he was 49-50 years old. A real and tragic story.
Their “situation” wasn’t a secret, at all. Her divorced parents knew, his colleagues knew, her teachers knew, everyone knew what was going on.
No one did anything. Her mum would even invite G. for dinner!
“On the other hand, I instinctively understood that the fact that no one ever expressed surprise at the situation meant the world around me was out of kilter.”
V. wasn’t G.’s first “minor lover”. He had multiple relationships with adolescents, girls and boys, which he’d talk about in detail in his books.
His books that were published and praised by many.
V. also speaks about how she lost her sense of self in face of what happened and how he’d speak of it in his literary works.
“What link could there be between this paper character, fabricated from beginning to end, and the person I really was?”
“Everything around me was fake and I was no exception.”
“You mean all this is true? I’m not . . . fiction?”
Maybe, indeed, there isn’t a thing as a “moral” or “immoral” book. Many argue that sometimes we should separate the author from the book.
I guess one should but with exceptions.
One major exception being if the content is true and criminal.
This is one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s raw, beautifully written, and heartbreaking.
I read the translated version and intend to read the french version.
A must-read for anyone who can digest its content.
This book is Vanessa Springora’s memoir about her “relationship” with the previously famous french author, Gabriel Matzneff, referred to as G. in the book.
For reference, she was 13-14 and he was 49-50 years old. A real and tragic story.
Their “situation” wasn’t a secret, at all. Her divorced parents knew, his colleagues knew, her teachers knew, everyone knew what was going on.
No one did anything. Her mum would even invite G. for dinner!
“On the other hand, I instinctively understood that the fact that no one ever expressed surprise at the situation meant the world around me was out of kilter.”
V. wasn’t G.’s first “minor lover”. He had multiple relationships with adolescents, girls and boys, which he’d talk about in detail in his books.
His books that were published and praised by many.
V. also speaks about how she lost her sense of self in face of what happened and how he’d speak of it in his literary works.
“What link could there be between this paper character, fabricated from beginning to end, and the person I really was?”
“Everything around me was fake and I was no exception.”
“You mean all this is true? I’m not . . . fiction?”
Maybe, indeed, there isn’t a thing as a “moral” or “immoral” book. Many argue that sometimes we should separate the author from the book.
I guess one should but with exceptions.
One major exception being if the content is true and criminal.
This is one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s raw, beautifully written, and heartbreaking.
I read the translated version and intend to read the french version.
A must-read for anyone who can digest its content.