Agarpha.
The Volta.| N° d'inventaire | 25418 |
| Format | 15.7 x 21 |
| Détails | 306 p., paperback. |
| Publication | 2020 |
| Etat | Nine |
| ISBN | 9782370490957 |
At the beginning was a 10th-century manuscript. Apocryphal, perhaps not. At the beginning were eight women, each from a distant horizon, united in a cave deep in the forest. Together, they recount or conceal their lives as recluses, their destiny far from the world and yet so close to it. They speak a thousand languages in one, blending their souls into a fragmented poem that the author then cements with gold and honey. And from this braid of words will be born the apocalypse. In her notebooks, the author has meticulously stitched together the story of this constellation.
Unspeakable traces of their existence remain, which only writing can bring to light. Among the smells of bark and the accents of ancient dialects, it is at the dawn of the year 1000 that the experiences of these women and their epiphanic power radiate. At the antipodes of the historical novel or the fantasy novel, Agrapha reconnects with the sources of medieval material while offering a historical experience that is both more immersive – and therefore familiar – thanks to its narrative process; and more foreign – and therefore more exotic – thanks to its radical linguistic approach.
—
"The fact that there is still a present does not prevent women from beginning the story of life elsewhere," wrote Hélène Cixous in The Laughter of the Medusa , the year of Luvan's birth.
While freeing the future (in Susto , Few of Us and, in perpetual collectivity, with his comrades from Zanzibar), luvan, in Agrapha looks the past in the eye. She opens forgotten paths with her machete. And invites us to follow her through the brambles. Agrapha reforms, half-tone by half-tone, the sexist, nationalist, speciesist, and capitalist narrative that has adhered to the Middle Ages since the 19th century. Through the meticulousness of her historical examination, she offers us the ability and the desire to take that famous step aside in the future.
And the following.
At the beginning was a 10th-century manuscript. Apocryphal, perhaps not. At the beginning were eight women, each from a distant horizon, united in a cave deep in the forest. Together, they recount or conceal their lives as recluses, their destiny far from the world and yet so close to it. They speak a thousand languages in one, blending their souls into a fragmented poem that the author then cements with gold and honey. And from this braid of words will be born the apocalypse. In her notebooks, the author has meticulously stitched together the story of this constellation.
Unspeakable traces of their existence remain, which only writing can bring to light. Among the smells of bark and the accents of ancient dialects, it is at the dawn of the year 1000 that the experiences of these women and their epiphanic power radiate. At the antipodes of the historical novel or the fantasy novel, Agrapha reconnects with the sources of medieval material while offering a historical experience that is both more immersive – and therefore familiar – thanks to its narrative process; and more foreign – and therefore more exotic – thanks to its radical linguistic approach.
—
"The fact that there is still a present does not prevent women from beginning the story of life elsewhere," wrote Hélène Cixous in The Laughter of the Medusa , the year of Luvan's birth.
While freeing the future (in Susto , Few of Us and, in perpetual collectivity, with his comrades from Zanzibar), luvan, in Agrapha looks the past in the eye. She opens forgotten paths with her machete. And invites us to follow her through the brambles. Agrapha reforms, half-tone by half-tone, the sexist, nationalist, speciesist, and capitalist narrative that has adhered to the Middle Ages since the 19th century. Through the meticulousness of her historical examination, she offers us the ability and the desire to take that famous step aside in the future.
And the following.