Philippe Claudel Libri

1917. In un villaggio del nord-est della Francia una bambina di dieci anni viene trovata morta in un canale. A raccontare la vicenda è un poliziotto assetato di verità che, a vent'anni di distanza, ricostruisce il fatto nella speranza di fare luce sulla Storia e sul proprio passato. E scrive, per mantenersi in vita, per dire la sua verità. Aiutato dai ricordi dei testimoni, ripercorre quei giorni e la catena di eventi che li hanno preceduti e seguiti: l'orrore insensato della guerra e quel tragico delitto che non trova spiegazione. Un romanzo che parte come un'indagine poliziesca ma, a mano a mano che la ricostruzione procede, si trasforma: protagonisti diventano l'umanità e la sua sofferenza, la sua solitudine. La frontiera tra bene e male, amore e odio, pace e guerra diventa sempre più incerta, e sul dolore degli uomini prevale il sentimento antico della pietà, che consola e accomuna.

Winner of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize 2010 A murder investigation in post-war France becomes an exploration of the legacy of German occupation. From his village in post-war France, Brodeck makes his solitary journeys into the mountains to collect data on the natural environment. Day by day he also reconstructs his own life, all but lost in the years he spent in a camp during the war. No-one had expected to see him again. One day, a flamboyant stranger rides into the village, upsetting the fragile balance of everyday life. Soon he is named the Anderer, "the other", and tensions rise until, one night, the newcomer is murdered. Brodeck is instructed to write an account of the events leading to his death, but his report delivers much more than the bare facts: it becomes the story of a community coming to terms with the legacy of enemy occupation. In a powerful narrative of exceptional fascination, Brodeck's Report explores the very limits of humanity.

From the sizzling sharpness of freshly cut garlic to the cool tang of a father's aftershave; the heady intoxication of a fumbled first kiss to the anodyne void of disinfectant and death, this is a decadently original olfactory memoir. In sixty-three elusive episodes we roam freely across the countryside of Lorraine, North-East France, from kitchen to farm to a lover's bed. Recognising the bittersweet nostalgia of a scent that slips away on the summer breeze, Claudel demonstrates again his impeccable grasp of the personal and the universal, interweaved with a rare self-deprecating charm. This is an evocative patchwork at once earthy and ethereal, erotic and heart-breaking. Claudel permits us a glimpse of moments that have driven him to delight or despair, creating through the fading aromas of the past fragments of humour, insight and quite intangible beauty.

Traumatized by memories of his war-ravaged country, and with his son and daughter-in-law dead, Monsieur Linh travels to a foreign land to bring the child in his arms to safety. The other refugees in the detention centre are unsure how to help the old man; his caseworkers are compassionate, but overworked. Monsieur Linh struggles beneath the weight of his sorrow, and becomes increasingly bewildered and isolated in this unfamiliar, fast-moving town. And then he encounters Monsieur Bark. They do not speak each other's language, but Monsieur Bark is sympathetic to the foreigner's need to care for the child. Recently widowed and equally alone, he is eager to talk, and Monsieur Linh knows how to listen. The two men share their solitude, and find friendship in an unlikely dialogue between two very different cultures. Monsieur Linh and His Child is a remarkable novel with an extraordinary twist, a subtle portrait of friendship and a dialogue between two cultures.

From the author of Grey Souls and Brodeck's Report: a chilling island fable of murder, exploitation and complicity

A collection of interconnected short stories meditating on Germany's past, present and future

Do horské vesnice krátce po válce přijde záhadný cizinec – a místním se nelíbí, že odhaluje jejich černé svědomí. Když je nato zavražděn, pověří úřady jednoho z místních, Brodecka, navrátilce z koncentračního tábora, aby celou věc vyšetřil. Takový je v nejvyšší stručnosti a největším zjednodušení námět světově proslulého románu Philippa Claudela. Jeden z nejlepších a nejsvéráznějších francouzských komiksových tvůrců Manu Larcenet opatřil tuto předlohu stejně strhující výtvarnou podobou. Limitovaná edice s odlišnou variantou obálky s otevřeným hřbetem na plátnu (švýcarská vazba), jednotlivé kusy číslovány v dolním rohu, jak na boxu, tak na samotné knize.

A la mort de sa mère, le narrateur revient sur les lieux de son enfance, dans une petite ville du Nord inondée par la crue d'une rivière. Durant les trois jours qu'il passera là surgissent les figures disparues, celle de la mère bien sûr, jadis aimée plus que tout, et celle plus inquiétante du père absent dont la légende dit qu'il est mort dans une guerre lointaine. Roman poignant où, par petites touches, Philippe Claudel explore l'amour filial avec une extrême délicatesse et une surprenante réserve.

Ein bedeutender literarischer Autor Frankreichs erinnert sich an seine glückliche Jugend in 63 Düften. Dieses charmante Geschenkbuch ist eine Hommage an das ländliche Frankreich. Philippe Claudel erzählt seine Lebensgeschichte, die in Dombasle-sur-Meurthe, einem Dorf am Fuße der Vogesen, verwurzelt ist. Der Duft von Akazien weckt Erinnerungen an Frühlingsfahrten mit dem Fahrrad zu Freunden. Er genießt die Gerüche, wenn seine Großmutter einen mit Knoblauch gewürzten Hasenbraten zubereitet, und begleitet sie zum Waschplatz, wo er ins seifige Wasser springt. Onkel Dédés Pullover riecht nach Gauloises. Eine besondere Verbindung hat er zu seinem Vater, mit dem er an den Flüssen Meurthe und Digue angelt. Im Januar durchdringt der Duft von Schnaps aus einer abgelegenen Hütte die Luft, während im Frühjahr die Doldenblütler betören. Im Sommer fährt Philippe mit dem Fahrrad an den frisch gemähten Feldern zur Bäckerei, um Baguette zu kaufen. Nach einem Gewitter liegt der erdige Duft von Regen in der Luft. „Ich radele mit geschlossenen Augen und berausche mich am Duft der Blüten und der fiebrigen Freude, die der Frühling jedes Jahr mit sich bringt. Die Tage werden endlos sein, genau wie unser Leben.“