September 3, 2007
When she was writing Suite Française
in 1940, Némirovsky, who died in Auschwitz in 1942 before turning 40, was also reworking this novel, newly discovered among her papers. Though composed on a smaller canvas, it is another keenly observed study of human nature, and in this case of Burgundy paysans
. In a leisurely narrative, middle-aged narrator Silvio recounts three interlocking stories of love and betrayal over two decades. These secret affairs, he says, can be explained only by “fire in the blood,” the intense passion that can overtake men and women when they are young, highly sexed and vulnerable. Silvio's laconic descriptions of unappeasable desire are seasoned by bitter assessment of the wisdom earned after things cool. Linked through blood and common local history, the characters in this la ronde
of betrayal exist in a seemingly idyllic community that is always alert for deviations from the social code. Némirovsky's restraint in unfolding her story contributes to the emotional crescendo at the story's denouement. In its penetrating distillation of manners and mores, this spare and elegant book makes a worthy follow-up to Suite
.
Starred review from October 1, 2007
If you loved the author's "Suite Française"and how could you not?you'll likewise take to this recently discovered treasure by Némirovsky, who perished in Auschwitz. "Fire in the blood" is the passion that propels all kinds of human triumphs and follies in the lives of otherwise undistinguished French "paysans", citizens of the countryside in the early part of the last century, "a region that has something restrained yet savage about it, something affluent and yet distrustful that is reminiscent of another time, long past." Love, intrigue, mystery, death, and murder all figure in this exquisitely wrought tale, as related by the reclusive Silvio, who reconstructs an ultimately shocking family history that links the generations in unexpected ways. So great is Némirovsky's reading of the human heart that her tale has the power of myth. And so true does it ring to reality that one could call it not so much a love but a life story. If anyone has taken an accurate reading of the pulse of the French, it is surely Némirovsky. Beautifully translated, this work is enthusiastically recommended for all collections. [See Prepub Alert, "LJ" 5/1/07.]Edward Cone, New York
Copyright 2007 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
November 26, 2007
Silvio, the narrator of Némirovsky's brief, posthumously published novel, lives alone on his small farm in pre–WWII rural France, committed to his permanent bachelorhood. But as he watches the affairs of young people around him, he recalls his early love life and the dying embers in his spirit start to glow again. Bramhall reflects this well in his deep, harsh voice by building up from Silvio's tone of quiet disdain and aloofness into one of possessive fervor. The French-accented English he uses for all conversation helps listeners place the story on a cognitive map. His voice lulls listeners past noticing the novel's unfinished state. The dropped strands of the plot, the chapters consisting of just a few paragraphs and the scenes with rougher edges all fade thanks to his low but intense growl. Fans of Némirovsky's more polished Suite Française
and romantics with a taste for passionately spoken French, will be swept up by this entrancing and evocative tale. Simultaneous release with the Knopf hardcover (Reviews, Sept. 3).