French Author Benoît Séverac 's "Les Chevelues" is my Coup de Coeur

(Si vous voulez lire cet entretien en version française, veuillez me contacter à michele.gensac@yahoo.fr.)

The most captivating of novels combine the best of several genres. With Benoît Séverac's first novel, Les Chevelues, we get a political intrigue, thriller, murder mystery, family saga, and detective story all rolled into one.

With South West France under the Roman Empire as a backdrop, Séverac breathes life into a ancient world at once distant and familiar. He takes the reader into a complex world inhabited by Romans and Gauls, nobles and slaves, women and men. A world rocked by a serial murderer where virtue and vice engage in constant battle. Finally, it is a world of intrigue where, as in every time and place, redemption is won only after enormous sacrifice.

Séverac's characters, every one multi-faceted and complex, are the works of a master who's honed his craft. The novel's hero, whose mission sets the tightly controlled pace of the plot, is a Roman warrior whose tender letters to his wife reveal not only sensitivity and compassion, but profound moral integrity . The suspense established in the opening pages of this novel never falters and culminates in a riveting conclusion which is as credible as it is unexpected.

Whether or not you count yourself among the odd bunch of Gallo-Roman history buffs, or whether you simply love reading crime fiction, you will have to brush up on your French in order to enjoy Les Chevelues.

Of course, you can wait for the English-language edition to appear, but finding foreign literature translated into English is like stumbling upon Caesar's very own laurel wreath – a rare find.

Let's hope that interviews such as this will serve as a resource for you – readers, students, translators, and editors – and help draw even just a little bit of attention to the quality works currently being published by small foreign presses.*

Harero is running, almost out of breath. He is running without worrying about the stones that are bruising his feet, without thinking about his sheep which he left above, he is running without trying to catch hold of his staff which has gotten away from him, stuck in a boxwood.

He is running, without turning back.

There are days and places to die, or for seeing death...days when you expect it; but not when you are ten years old, not this afternoon, not in the grass among the flowers in the middle of this pasture...." – from “Les Chevelues”  Purchase from Amazon France.

 

The Interview*

1. Where did the idea for "Les Chevelues" come from?

A mistake on my part. The Romans used the expression "Long-Haired Gaul" to make reference to Aquitaine (roughly from the West of the Garonne River until Bordeaux). In France, we always use this term when talk about this Roman province which was pacified later than the others (the Mediterranean perimeter, for example). Before attacking my novel, I was convinced that the explanation for this expression "chevelue" was found in the fact that the Gauls who populated the region were hairy and had long hair, and that the Romans were struck by this. The first thing that I read while researching St Bertrand de Comminges (the town where the novel takes place) during the 1^st Gallo-Roman era, was that the Romans baptized the province with this name because it was forested, giving the landscape a dense, hairy appearance. My mistake made me smile; I kept the adjective for my title.

2. Can you tell us a little about the process of writing this novel?

I came back from Rome in love. I knew the ancient world, like everyone else, from my old courses in the lycée (French high school) and that common European cultural foundation (principally from the comics Astérix and Obélix). But before visiting Rome, I had never grasped the modernity and the force of that civilization. I wanted to render homage. However, in order to geographically situate my story, I needed a place that was more familiar to me than Rome. Quite naturally, I chose St. Bertrand de Comminges which is a place which I always considered to be magical. I love the feeling that prevails there. I knew that it had been a Gallo-Roman city, I could kill two birds with one stone and render homage to this corner of the Pyrenean foothills.

3. This story takes place in the 1^st –2^nd century A.D., yet you have chosen to write it in the present tense? Why ?

The action unfolds in 16 BC, in fact – under Augustus at the beginning of the Christian era – due to reasons linked to my plot. Specifically, because it was during this epoch and under this emperor that the region had been pacified, and I needed this very specific relationship between the Gauls and the Romans. It's funny that you ask about the narrative time because I never asked myself the question. I, therefore, didn't "choose" to write in the present tense, it imposed itself. I suppose that this was in response to a need to be "contemporary". I wanted to hold onto my style and to descript completely modern feelings. In fact, my goal was to look at the ancient world through a lens, through the prism of the people and their feelings and not through the prism of great battles and great men; deliberately, because there is not reason to assume that the Romans and the Gauls of this epoch had worries any different from ours. We tend to forget too often the trivial side of life when we study history.

4. You were born in Le Comminges where Les Chevelues takes place. In the novel, not only are there individual characters, but the setting, the landscape is a vehicle of emotion.

Yes, that's very true . Landscapes, in general, have a great impact on me, in my "real" life.

5 . You could easily consider that one of the novel's prominent characters is the Pyrenees Mountains.

No, I don't agree. The story unfolds at the foot of the Pyrenees Mountains, but it only serves as décor. I use the mountains to release the inner foundations and the emotions of the characters, to give them depth, but that could as well have been the municipal pool of Trifouillis-les-oies (the French equivalent of "East Jesus" – “in the middle of nowhere”).

6. How are you influenced by the South West region of France and its particular history, its landscape, and people?

I can't deny the influence of my region on me. Undoubtedly, I am a Latin, I grew up at the foot of the Pyrenees, an experience which forged the way I look – which forged my calves as well. I deeply love my country, just like anyone who loves the country in which he is born. It's linked to my childhood, it's sensual, and it's anchored in me. But I am not "proud" to be a Commingeois. I don't feel like I have to defend my identity, or carry a regionalist message. I love humanity in general. I only need to spend five days in Rome in order to feel Roman, a week in Tozeur to want to remain there, three days in the Alpes before I want to become a shepherd…I get that feeling in all the places I pass through. It's exhausting, but it's the only way for me to live fully.

7. What kind of research did you have to undertake to make the story come alive so vividly?

I am not a historian, therefore, I had a lot of trouble researching this period which I knew little about. I used secondary sources only : books; websites, popular articles, museum visits, etc. I spent 3 or 4 months researching, after which, it would have been difficult to write anything without it being pedagogical, heavy. The stakes were heavy at that moment : how to detach myself from my research, all the while maintaining what I needed in order to construct my backdrop and my plot. I decided to let things distil for a month and to take up the writing only after the detective story and the dramatic action had overtaken the underlying historic dimension.

6. Did you have a particular audience in mind when you wrote this story?

My wife, who is my first reader and who gives very pertinent critiques, is very demanding. This was my first novel and I hadn't realized that there would be readers. That may seem surprising, but it wasn't until the book was published and during the course of book tours that I discovered the readers : their apprehensions about the book, their perceptions which were very different from mine, their interpretations, their expectations. This is a dimension that I had not envisaged and which was marvellous. There is a lot of emotion in this kind of exchange. I love that. From now on, I write with this perspective in mind, but without letting it bother me…in fact, in the beginning, even as I was very affected (positively or negatively) by the book tours which I participated in, I learned to let people have their impressions. Their impressions belong to them, and I respect that, but I don't have to endorse those views. A reader's comments may make me happy or may speak to me; I listen and I nourish myself with critiques but I don't allow them to influence me. What the readers experience is one thing…my writing is yet another. I don't want to be too susceptible. My attitude also prevents me from getting a big head when the reviews are too glowing and from becoming too unhappy when the reviews are negative. Forgetting the reader allows a writer to remain true to his writing, and to continue to be demanding of himself.

7. Which character did you enjoy most?

The centurion Valerius Falco : I adore him. He's a true classical tragic hero. He is Cornelian, Shakespearean (I say that very modestly).

8. What authors have influenced and inspired you as a writer?

I was influenced by a whole bunch of literary influences. English poetry from the 19^th century accompanied me for a long time. I love the picaresque novel a lot (Thackeray). American detective novels left a strong impression on me (Elroy, Ed McBain, John Harvey, Connelly, McCarthy and many others). Jack London was an author on my night stand when I was between 8 and 10 years old. I found myself in communion with Man and the Elements. The French classics Balzac, Flaubert, Yourcenar are one source of stylistic inspiration when I tackle descriptions of places and the depths of the soul of a character. Celine is a model of freedom in narration. The Americans Paul Auster and Philip Roth instructed me a lot on the manipulations and the presence of the author in narration. Julian Barnes, David Lodge, Green in Great Britain formed my sensibility or sharpened my outlook on my contemporaries. French writers like Annie Ernaux, Hélène Duffau…make me look at the sentence differently. I admire the sensuality and the intelligence of an author like Aal El Aswany. I am very sensitive to the finesse of characters and the polished style of someone like Irène Némirovsky who I've only recently discovered. The list would be long, but to sum it up, today, when I buy a novel, I am drawn spontaneously towards French or American authors. I regret not knowing better Russian and Asian writers. I know these are equally strong cultures…and so a must to discover.

8. Can you tell us about your publisher éditions TME?

TME is a small Toulousain publishing house whose catalogue includes a dozen works, and whose editorial line is regional historical heritage. They essentially publish historical non-fiction as well as coffee table books. Les chevelues is their first work of fiction. They wanted to start a collection of crime novels which would be in line with their domain of preference and which would naturally be called "Noire d'Histoire" (Historical Crime). I believe they aspire to move towards children's literature. They signed on two additional authors after me in the Noire d'Histoire category, whose novels should come out in 2008 and 2009. It should be underlined that the French book market is in full permutation, under enormous pressure and is undergoing a lot of soul-searching…it was very courageous on the part of a small publisher to propel itself into the adventure of a work of fiction, especially by devoting the first book in its collection to an author who had never published more than two or three short stories before, and who was absolutely unknown.

9. Do you have a "day job"?

Yes, of course. It is nearly impossible for an author to make a living by writing, unless he is very well-known and writes a lot of best-sellers. But anyway, I wouldn't want it to be otherwise. I am a professor of English as a Foreign Language for Specific Purposes at l'Ecole Nationale Vétérinaire de Toulouse. I adore this job and I need to communicate with my colleagues, my students, the workers… and then write in the evening. My literary activity is calm, without pressure, without anxiety about the next day, without telling me what I should do in order to live, without running after all the projects that arise, without having to talk about oneself, to show oneself… all of those things writers who depend on their book sales have to submit to. I just write to write and to be read, not to live, it's very comfortable.

10. What's next?

I'm currently working on a second historic crime novel. But nothing to do with antiquity anymore! The action unfolds in Toulouse, during a time a lot closer to ours, and in a milieu which, to my knowledge, has never served as a literary setting. I can't say anymore than that. It is already well on its way and should come out between now and the end of the year, or the beginning of 2009, still with TME.

11. Final thoughts?

I'd like to take advantage of this interview to greet our American friends and to tell them how much the richness of American culture is appreciated here in Europe.

Enthusiasts of music, film, and literature (I don't know much about the fine arts) make all the difference between what's going on between the American commercial subculture which the mass media bombard us with, and which we passively receive - all the while criticizing it – and the truly independent American creation which has had such a great influence on the arts for almost a century.

Societies are very much on the move and there are always new things to discover on both sides of the Atlantic. I'm delighted by bridges such as The Windows Project which permit us to cross the ocean.

*More information about French authors can be found at The French Book News.

**This interview was translated from French into English by Michele and Saba Yemane, with the invaluable input and enormous tolerance of Benoît Séverac.

As spring takes a few tentative steps towards us here in the wind-swept valleys of the Pyrenees, two "cool" language-related events are taking place all over France.  You can hear the persistent murmur of voices sprouting everywhere like the bunches of sweet violet growing rampant in the fields. 

Le Printemps des Poètes and la Semaine de la Langue Française have arrived.  It's the Spring of Poets and the Week of French Language.

Created in 1999, Le Printemps des Poètes is a week dedicated to the celebration of the poetic arts throughout France and the French-speaking world.  Workshops, readings, and exhibits are staged and accorded a particular theme; this year's being "l'Eloge de l'autre" - "In Praise of the Other".  Throughout France more than 12,000 programs and festivals have been organized. 

In Lectoure, the organization Dialoguer en Poésie invited poets from Toulouse, Nîmes, Bordeaux, Paris, and Marseille for three different programs where poets discussed the nature of their work, the sources of their inspiration and, of course, recited their poetry.

Among the mesmerizing poetic voices was that of Gabriel Okoundji whose affinity with Gascony and its people, makes it easier to understand why he has chosen to have his work translated into Occitan, a language spoken only in Southern and South-West France, and Basque, the language of Basque peoples who inhabit the Pyrenees, North-Central Spain and the adjoining region of South-Western France. 

During the evening, he encouraged us, his audience, to come closer, closer, closer.  And so we obeyed, shuffling our chairs ever forward until we were no longer separate spectators, but wholly implicated in his poetry and laughter.    

Eugène Ebodé recited from memory the lines carved in his soul.  He sang songs of his Cameroon ancestors, teaching us the rhythmic chorus lines so that our voices became enchantments, woven into the magic tapestry of African call and response. 

Sarah Kerina, Marseillaise, in the soft tones of her warm voice, guided us on a trip around the world, in and out of cities, around a kitchen, along the length of a worn sofa, riding along the solstice of angst that separates her from her grandmother's eclipsing memory. 

Langue.  Language.  Tongue.  Spoken and written.  Imagined and dreamed.  Spells and incantations that bridge differences and dissolve barriers. 

Parlez-vous français?  Do you speak French? 

According to the French Ministry of Foreign and European Affairs, there are 200 million speakers of French in the world.  Since France counts among its population, only 60 million inhabitants, then apparently there are more French-speakers living outside of France than within the country itself.  In fact, a 2006 Francophonie Report found that there were 115 million French-speakers in Africa spread across 31 francophone countries.

Originally initiated by the French Ministry of Culture, La Semaine de la Langue Française (French Language Week) takes place this year from March 14 - 24.  As in every year, ten words have been chosen to showcase the poetic richness of the French language. 

This year we are offered the following curiously random ingredients for our French word salad.  Bon appétit!

tact - tact

apprivoiser - to tame                                                                                   

passerrelle - footbridge                                                                                                      

jubilatoire - exhilirating                                                                                                         

visage - face                                                                                                                  

rhizome - the horizontal stem of a plant                                                                         

boussoule - compass                                                                                                            

toi - you (familiar)                                                                                                        

palabre - endless talk                                                                                                           

s'attabler - to sit down for a meal

  Prières aux Ancêtres, Gabriel Oukoundji

Le Briseur de jeu, Eugènne Ebodé 

My friends chided me.  It was a shame, they said, that I had managed to spend one year and a half in The Gers without having set foot in Marciac.,

Hard as it is to imagine but sitting nonchalantly among the rolling hills carpeted with sunflowers and dotted by the ocassional castle, there is a tiny village in South West France whose heart is driven by the be-bop of a quintessentially American sound -- Jazz. 

Built in the 13th century, Marciac has a population of a little over 1200, jazz aficionados all.  Even the regular public school curriculum includes the study of jazz.  

Between the first and fifteenth of August of every year, the tiny town holds an International Jazz Festival.  There's not enough room to accomodate all the people who flock here from the four corners of the globe, so the municipality has had to actually build housing on the outskirts of town just to house the influx of tourists. 

However, even before the International Jazz Festival is inaugurated, throughout the year Marciac is host to well-attended monthly concerts featuring internationally-known artists. 

As if by divine providence, when my friend Denis tried his luck by calling to reserve four tickets the day before The Charlie Parker Legacy Band was scheduled to play, exactly four tickets to the sold-out concert had just been released due to a cancellation.  Don't you just love Synchronicity? 

I was the novice on this pilgrimmage, but my companions, had all been steeped in the Marciac tradition, and they regaled me with tales of prior visits and personal encounters with Jazz Superstars as we drove the hour and fifteen minutes through the winding and sleepy countryside. 

For example, Cathy told about how she had sidled up to Wynton Marsalis and, with that winning smile of hers, had put an arm around him.  She's got the photo to prove it.  She had wanted to invite him home for a dinner of magret, but her (slightly jealous?) husband but the kebosh on that idea.  Denis described how for two weeks in August his whole life is jazz driven.  He can go without sleep if it means listening to world-class jazz musicians until the stars give way to daylight.  And Christine pragmatically explained what exactly was going on here.  The reason all those jazz masters, from Ray Charles to Tito Puente, from Dizzy Gillespie to Oscar Peterson, have gladly come to play in the middle of nowhere, was because it was here where they could get the one thing they couldn't get anywhere else in the world.  Rather, make that three things -- foie gras, duck, and  Armagnac.  The holy trinity of the Gers.  As the ancients knew well enough, when you make offerings of food up to the gods, you receive their blessings. 

By the time we reached Marciac,  I was primed and ready to swoon at the sound of the first transcendent riff.  Crowds were already converging on the concert hall, an old church above which is housed the Jazz Museum, and in front of which stands the bronze statue of none other than Wynton himself.   

While seated in the packed concert hall waiting for the appearance of The Charlie Parker Legacy Band, Christine showed me the winter program she had received in the mail. I saw that in December The Ladies of Song had played in Marciac.  Together with their choir master, they smiled out at me from the brochure.  Just looking at their faces, which were nothing like the ones I typically encountered on a daily basis as I strolled down Rue Nationale, was enough to transport me back home.  I recognized something very familiar in those smiles.  Actually, I recogniwed something more than familiar...I recognized something "family". 

"Ma tante!," I screamed, almost falling out of my chair.  My aunt! 

My friends smiled and chuckled.  They thought I was joking.  "Of course, they're your aunts.  They're Americans just like you."

Mais non!  C'est vraiment ma tante.  Patsy!  Patsy Hemphill, my uncle's wife, from Philadelphia, the classical and gospel singer.  The one who always astounds us with the gift of a song at our  family reunions. 

Aunt Patsy had told me she'd be appearing with her group in Switzerland and Germany.  She had not mentioned they'd be making an appearance in France.  She had even showed off the smattering of French with which she was able to wow her Swiss audiences. 

I had known that in a way, stepping foot in Marciac and being wooed by jazz would be very much like coming home, but I hadn't quite expected this one degree of separation.

Aunt Patsy with her Ladies of Song had come and gone, not realizing that Marciac was but a mere sweet swinging blues away from Lectoure.  For me the fact she, truly one of my own, had traveled to sing in the Wonderland of Jazz was proof positive that Marciac was magical and in the middle of Somewhere.

On the same stage where my aunt had harmonized only a month before, eventually Terrell Stafford strolled out and played a mind-blowing trumpet.  The alto sax player Jesse Davis sent us into the stratosphere. Dado Moroni played what could only describe as "extreme piano"; his instrument actually danced on, and almost off, the stage. Then there was the bassist Darryl Hall who played with such ecsatic perfection that you as though you were watching some truly intimate fusion between man and instrument.  The antics of drummer Leon Parker who took leave of his drums without ever missing a beat to play his legs, his torso, Moroni's piano, and Hall's bass, in a playful improv that delighted the audience.  Each musician's talents, highlighted solo and melded together, built a bridge all the way from Bourbon Street to Marciac.  Two hours later, the wild and harmonious concert would end all to soon. 

If you land in South West France in August, you must put jazz on your agenda.  Don't be like Aunt Patsy.  Let me know you are in the neighborhood!  You are welcome to come stay at 21 Rue Dupouy in Lectoure where you can enjoy the local spa, the summer street festivals, and then take that lovely, winding road to Jazz Land to join the other jazz pilgrims and enjoy the free and paid the concerts , as well as art exhibitions, films, and a farmer's market featuring local products and artisinal crafts.  You can spend the day trying out the various cafés and bars that surround the village square, all the while listening to the jazz that reigns over the course of two weeks.