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In the Absence of Men
Like Michael Cunningham’s homage to Virginia Woolf in The Hours and Jean Rhys’s to Charlotte Bronte in The Wide Sargasso Sea, Philippe Besson’s extravagantly praised first novel pays tribute to Marcel Proust. It also dares to introduce an asthmatic middle-aged Proust into its masterfully manipulated plot and invents a series of deeply felt letters written by him to the novel’s young protagonist, Vincent de l’Etoile. In the summer of 1916, the emotionally precocious Vincent, who is the same age as the century, awakens to the possibilities of both erotic and platonic love. In the course of one week—at literary salons, at the Ritz, in cork-lined rooms—Vincent launches an intense friendship with the celebrated Proust, while at his parents’ house in Paris he embarks on a sensual journey with Arthur Vales, the soldier son of a family servant, on leave from the front. Unknowingly, Vincent is also beginning a passage into a manhood that will be haunted by the secret he uncovers behind the love he bears for a doomed French infantryman and a famous middle-aged Jewish writer.
180 pages, Hardcover
First published June 28, 2001
About the author
Philippe Besson
47 books897 followersIn 1999, Besson, who was a jurist at that time, was inspired to write his first novel, In the Absence of Men, while reading some accounts of ex-servicemen of the First World War. The novel won the Emmanuel-Roblès prize.
L'Arrière-saison, published in 2002, won the Grand Prix RTL-Lire 2003. Un garçon d'Italie was nominated for the Goncourt and the Médicis prizes.
Seeing that his works aroused so much interest, Philippe Besson then decided to dedicate himself exclusively to his writing.
L'Arrière-saison, published in 2002, won the Grand Prix RTL-Lire 2003. Un garçon d'Italie was nominated for the Goncourt and the Médicis prizes.
Seeing that his works aroused so much interest, Philippe Besson then decided to dedicate himself exclusively to his writing.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 474 reviews
April 4, 2018
Occasionally, you pick up a book not quite knowing why you chose to read it in the first place, but then gradually, page by page, you start to realize that almost every chapter tells you a little about yourself, about your life. You find that you could send whole fragments of text to relevant people in your life because those fragments tell them precisely the things that you dare not tell them or wish to tell them. This novel will undoubtedly become one of the books that will never leave me and stay on my shelf until the day I die.
August 20, 2022
Now that I've absorbed the twist, I want to re-read this book immediately. I finished it on the beach, and could only look out across the waves in contemplation. You can feel the tragic pieces in this story prior to them happening, but the heartache still arrives.
Vincent, 16, makes a friend in Marcel, 45. They are both upper class in Paris in 1916. There are rumors about Marcel (with men), but bold Vincent is undaunted in meeting Marcel openly. Vincent, however, discovers love with Arthur, 21. But Arthur is the lower class fatherless/illegitimate son of Blanche, who is just a house-servant for Vincent's family.
Part 1 of this book has lots of intimate talk, as these friendships and love develop while Arthur is home for a week from The Great War. Neither Marcel nor Vincent have fathers that care about them, and Arthur never knew his father. Marcel greatly loved his mother while she lived; Vincent is indifferent to his mother; Arthur is the only child with a strong mother/son love.
Vincent teases Marcel with affectionate words and cheek-kisses during their daytime chats. They meet in public, or in the bedroom of Marcel. The nightly visits by Arthur to Vincent are erotic in Vincent's bed as Arthur sneaks in the window. They enjoy their first-time clumsy exploration but quickly take maximum advantage of Arthur's limited time home.
"I must remember the awkwardness, took the botched gestures, the abruptness, the missed beats, because there too are signs of love."
By the time Arthur must return to the war, Vincent realizes how far they have come:
"I realise that this is what it means to be lovers: using the same words to speak of the same things though one has never heard the other use them; these random similarities, this remarkable intimacy."
Part 2 is told with letters, as Arthur returns to battle, and Marcel travels back to his childhood home taking care of some business. Vincent greatly enjoyed both of these men in part 1, and misses them dearly through letters in part 2. Vincent reveals more and more to Marcel about Arthur, as he also reveals to Arthur how Marcel has offered advice.
Part 3 is a powerful 22 final pages. I won't say anything about these other than tell you it has profound meaning to the story.
This is my second fantastic book by Besson (first was Lie With Me). I am happy I have bought copies of both of these books to read again.
Vincent, 16, makes a friend in Marcel, 45. They are both upper class in Paris in 1916. There are rumors about Marcel (with men), but bold Vincent is undaunted in meeting Marcel openly. Vincent, however, discovers love with Arthur, 21. But Arthur is the lower class fatherless/illegitimate son of Blanche, who is just a house-servant for Vincent's family.
Part 1 of this book has lots of intimate talk, as these friendships and love develop while Arthur is home for a week from The Great War. Neither Marcel nor Vincent have fathers that care about them, and Arthur never knew his father. Marcel greatly loved his mother while she lived; Vincent is indifferent to his mother; Arthur is the only child with a strong mother/son love.
Vincent teases Marcel with affectionate words and cheek-kisses during their daytime chats. They meet in public, or in the bedroom of Marcel. The nightly visits by Arthur to Vincent are erotic in Vincent's bed as Arthur sneaks in the window. They enjoy their first-time clumsy exploration but quickly take maximum advantage of Arthur's limited time home.
"I must remember the awkwardness, took the botched gestures, the abruptness, the missed beats, because there too are signs of love."
By the time Arthur must return to the war, Vincent realizes how far they have come:
"I realise that this is what it means to be lovers: using the same words to speak of the same things though one has never heard the other use them; these random similarities, this remarkable intimacy."
Part 2 is told with letters, as Arthur returns to battle, and Marcel travels back to his childhood home taking care of some business. Vincent greatly enjoyed both of these men in part 1, and misses them dearly through letters in part 2. Vincent reveals more and more to Marcel about Arthur, as he also reveals to Arthur how Marcel has offered advice.
Part 3 is a powerful 22 final pages. I won't say anything about these other than tell you it has profound meaning to the story.
This is my second fantastic book by Besson (first was Lie With Me). I am happy I have bought copies of both of these books to read again.
December 29, 2018
As I'm doing some reading summaries of 2018, I have decided that In the Absence of Men is the greatest disappointment of the year for me. I would like to believe that Polish translation is to blame, to some extent at least but unfortunately, this is the second book by Besson and I didn’t like either of them. In both I genuinely like the idea but the execution is a little disaster.
Let’s start with the fact that the narrator of the novel, Vincent, is one of the most unpleasant characters I can think of – and in a very dull sense. He is arrogant, full of himself and at the same time there is no charm behind it, no cheekiness even or merciless honesty, anything that would make me believe in the friendship between Vincent and Proust, much older than the protagonist. The only appealing thing about the protagonist is that he is young and pretty. Maybe that’s the point, maybe it was supposed to reveal Proust’s hunger for youth he was saying goodbye to, his vanity even. But it didn’t feel like it while reading and Vincent’s extraordinariness is enhanced by another man who fell for him – a young soldier, Arthur, obsessed with death and traumatized by war from which he escaped only for a few days or hours, into Vincent’s arms. Vincent, on the other hand, expressed curiosity and fascination with sex itself and Arthur’s body than the boy himself, only to then suddenly be love-struck out of the blue. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to read about such triangle, what an open field for emotions, self-discoveries, finding your true colours it could be! But not here. Not with this writing, not with these characters, not with the predictable and rather embarrassing twist in the end. Great potential, fully wasted.
Fun fact: In the Absence of Men is a book where women do not exist at all on the pages of the book. Only mothers of the three main characters are mentioned, more or less briefly and that was it. Ah, well.
Let’s start with the fact that the narrator of the novel, Vincent, is one of the most unpleasant characters I can think of – and in a very dull sense. He is arrogant, full of himself and at the same time there is no charm behind it, no cheekiness even or merciless honesty, anything that would make me believe in the friendship between Vincent and Proust, much older than the protagonist. The only appealing thing about the protagonist is that he is young and pretty. Maybe that’s the point, maybe it was supposed to reveal Proust’s hunger for youth he was saying goodbye to, his vanity even. But it didn’t feel like it while reading and Vincent’s extraordinariness is enhanced by another man who fell for him – a young soldier, Arthur, obsessed with death and traumatized by war from which he escaped only for a few days or hours, into Vincent’s arms. Vincent, on the other hand, expressed curiosity and fascination with sex itself and Arthur’s body than the boy himself, only to then suddenly be love-struck out of the blue. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to read about such triangle, what an open field for emotions, self-discoveries, finding your true colours it could be! But not here. Not with this writing, not with these characters, not with the predictable and rather embarrassing twist in the end. Great potential, fully wasted.
Fun fact: In the Absence of Men is a book where women do not exist at all on the pages of the book. Only mothers of the three main characters are mentioned, more or less briefly and that was it. Ah, well.
May 31, 2022
Sadly, the last of Besson's books translated into English for me to read - and probably my least favorite - although they are all good and worth reading; since it was his debut novel, we'll let him slide a bit! Maybe due to a rather lackluster translation, or the longueurs of the war-related sections, but it didn't seem to have the propulsive quality of his other two books -albeit at 166 pages it only took me a day and a half to read it. It certainly provided an interesting, and I think legitimate, portrait of Proust - and I am a sucker for epistolary novels, so the second section of just that was probably my favorite. The ending was both sad, surprising ... and appropriate. I hope others of the author's work will be translated for the enjoyment of those of us whose college French is not adequate for reading it in the original.
December 13, 2020
"In the Absence of Men" is the latest of Philippe Besson's gay tales to be translated into English.
Vincent is an upper-class Frenchman coming of age during World War I. One summer, while Paris is empty of men, who have all gone off to war, Vincent happens to meet and strike up a friendship with a renowned author, Marcel. Marcel, a middle-aged homosexual, helps Vincent as he processes his first time being in love with another man, a soldier he has known since childhood who is on leave from the Front. This friendship and mentorship helps him grow more confident in his love for the soldier until news breaks about the true connections between these Parisian gay men.
Though an interesting tale of gay love and gay friendship, the form of this book is odd - the middle section is communicated through an exchange of letters that leaves much to be desired in terms of character development and plot. For that reason, the book was much less interesting than it should have been.
Vincent is an upper-class Frenchman coming of age during World War I. One summer, while Paris is empty of men, who have all gone off to war, Vincent happens to meet and strike up a friendship with a renowned author, Marcel. Marcel, a middle-aged homosexual, helps Vincent as he processes his first time being in love with another man, a soldier he has known since childhood who is on leave from the Front. This friendship and mentorship helps him grow more confident in his love for the soldier until news breaks about the true connections between these Parisian gay men.
Though an interesting tale of gay love and gay friendship, the form of this book is odd - the middle section is communicated through an exchange of letters that leaves much to be desired in terms of character development and plot. For that reason, the book was much less interesting than it should have been.
December 19, 2021
This was a very well written book. I enjoyed parts 2 & 3 the most. I felt there could’ve been more character building in part one or at least the author could’ve gotten us more engaged with the primary character as he came off rather unlikeable. I also wondered if the letters in part two could have been written so openly. Were letters to & from soldiers not inspected by the military during World War One? Overall, very good book and I hope more of this author’s work is translated into English in the future.
July 9, 2023
This book broke me.
There are great books I love because they are exactly that. Great. Works of genius. Things to be marvelled at, applauded and in awe of.
Then there are books I love because they completely absorb me into their world, with characters I feel drawn to, and almost feel like I care about their stories in real terms. I myself feel the emotions these characters endure. I feel I can put myself in their situation or have indeed experienced something similar in my own lifetime so that I can empathise. This is one of these books.
Set in WW1, it is the love story of Arthur Valés and Vincent de l’Étoile.
It is also the story of 16 yr old Vincent’s coming of age and loss of innocence under the most devastating of circumstances. War.
There is also an added layer in the friendship between 16 yr old Vincent and 45 yr old Marcel. (Non-sexual, to be clear.)
Besson’s prose is exquisite at conveying the emotions that accompany human desires, longings, fears and failings. The urgency, dread and gravity of the situation Arthur and Vincent live through in these pages feels real to me.
His perception of human communication, with all its flaws, awkwardness and often inadequacies, is perfect.
I would warn people though… it is a lot.
It is an important work in queer literature, and one that certainly influenced future queer books set in this period of modern history.
I also loved Lie With Me, and so it seems a great shame that not more of Besson’s work has yet been translated into English. Fitzcarraldo Editions, are you reading this?
There are great books I love because they are exactly that. Great. Works of genius. Things to be marvelled at, applauded and in awe of.
Then there are books I love because they completely absorb me into their world, with characters I feel drawn to, and almost feel like I care about their stories in real terms. I myself feel the emotions these characters endure. I feel I can put myself in their situation or have indeed experienced something similar in my own lifetime so that I can empathise. This is one of these books.
Set in WW1, it is the love story of Arthur Valés and Vincent de l’Étoile.
It is also the story of 16 yr old Vincent’s coming of age and loss of innocence under the most devastating of circumstances. War.
There is also an added layer in the friendship between 16 yr old Vincent and 45 yr old Marcel. (Non-sexual, to be clear.)
Besson’s prose is exquisite at conveying the emotions that accompany human desires, longings, fears and failings. The urgency, dread and gravity of the situation Arthur and Vincent live through in these pages feels real to me.
His perception of human communication, with all its flaws, awkwardness and often inadequacies, is perfect.
I would warn people though… it is a lot.
It is an important work in queer literature, and one that certainly influenced future queer books set in this period of modern history.
I also loved Lie With Me, and so it seems a great shame that not more of Besson’s work has yet been translated into English. Fitzcarraldo Editions, are you reading this?
October 9, 2022
Philippe Besson try to write about happiness challenge
April 18, 2024
"I realise that this is what it means to be lovers: using the same words to speak of the same things though one has never heard the other use them; these random similarities, this remarkable intimacy."
✧.* If you haven't read any Philippe Besson, you must. His writing is unbearably beautiful, it hurts. I practically have every other line highlighted in my copy.
"I want to experience only the moment, not the looming certainty that I will lose that moment, not the certain awareness that, ultimately, this moment must slip from present to past, only the joy of the moment and the graze of memory."
✧.* Forever waiting for more of his novels to be translated into English 🤍
June 10, 2011
This is one of those books that makes me amazed and wonder why I decided to pick up in the first place. Because after reading it, it felt like a whirlwind piece of fiction, and it left me dazed and wondering what just happened.
Believe me, it's a good thing. I actually like this book. It's just that I rarely encounter books of this kind that when I actually read one, I get a little shocked. So what is this book about?
This tells the story of Vincent de l'Etoile, a sixteen-year-old boy of aristocratic descent, and his relationships with two people: a platonic one with Marcel Proust, who is portrayed here as a 45-year-old writer; and a romantic one with Arthur Vales, a twenty-one-year-old schoolmaster, but since it is set in World War I (the Great War, as the book calls it), he is a soldier.
The story is basically a triangle, a story that centers between Vincent and Arthur, and between Vincent and Marcel. Arthur and Marcel are also related, but I won't give that away, since that was the ultimate surprise ending. Yes, I was able to predict it, but only at the last minute, when I realized that all the math added up.
So the last time I read a piece of LGBT literature was back in May 2010, when I read Boy Culture by Matthew Rettenmund. I ended up hating that book, and so far, I don't have a data point about reading LGBT literature and liking it. This time, I think the pattern will be broken.
Perhaps, what impressed me with this book is the various literary devices that were in place. I had this idea that LGBT literature is all about superficial stories about the lives of LGBT people, arguing for acceptance from the straight world. Because until now, that's the vibe I have been getting whenever I pick up a piece of LGBT literature. However, this book on the other hand felt so different. It was psychological fiction, the characters simply loved people of the same sex. Replace one of the names with a female name and you'll get your run-of-the-mill heterosexual romantic drama. Perhaps what is most striking is the idea that the characters have real emotions too, and they are human as well, like the rest of the population. They feel, they fall in love, they get hurt.
One of the most interesting literary devices I saw in this novel was the fact that parts of it were written in the second-person narrative. There were a lot of references that started with You said... and You [verbed]..., and depending on the chapter, the second person varied. This is because the chapters that were about Vincent and Marcel were alternating with the chapters about Vincent and Arthur. I felt that this use of the second-person narrative actually made the reader (me) more involved, because the prose felt like Vincent was writing or telling the story to me, and I would fill in the role of Arthur or Marcel, depending on the chapter.
The book is divided into three parts. The first part was written in the second-person narrative as I mentioned above, which chronicled events that happened in the span of one week. At the outset, Vincent meets both Marcel and Arthur for the first time, and their relationships develop in 7 days. Vincent meets Marcel in a salon, while he meets Arthur in their estate, since Arthur has a week of leave from the army, and his mother is the governess for Vincent's family.
The second part is written in the epistolary format, since both Arthur and Marcel leave Vincent in Paris. Arthur is sent back to the trenches, and Marcel has business to do in Illiers. This part consists of letters that were sent back and forth between these three characters.
Finally, the third part is more of a conclusion, since the climactic point of the book is actually at the end of the second part, and the third part serves as a nice way of tying things together. I do not want to reveal what the climax was about, but once everything fits into place, one would just be swept away.
So, overall, I liked this book. I definitely recommend it. The story is simple and yet moving, and powerful nonetheless. I don't regret the fact that I strolled into the library looking for some piece of modern French literature (which is why I grabbed a book from the PQ shelves), since I was able to pick up this one. I give this book 5 out of 5 stars for its brilliant structure.
Believe me, it's a good thing. I actually like this book. It's just that I rarely encounter books of this kind that when I actually read one, I get a little shocked. So what is this book about?
This tells the story of Vincent de l'Etoile, a sixteen-year-old boy of aristocratic descent, and his relationships with two people: a platonic one with Marcel Proust, who is portrayed here as a 45-year-old writer; and a romantic one with Arthur Vales, a twenty-one-year-old schoolmaster, but since it is set in World War I (the Great War, as the book calls it), he is a soldier.
The story is basically a triangle, a story that centers between Vincent and Arthur, and between Vincent and Marcel. Arthur and Marcel are also related, but I won't give that away, since that was the ultimate surprise ending. Yes, I was able to predict it, but only at the last minute, when I realized that all the math added up.
So the last time I read a piece of LGBT literature was back in May 2010, when I read Boy Culture by Matthew Rettenmund. I ended up hating that book, and so far, I don't have a data point about reading LGBT literature and liking it. This time, I think the pattern will be broken.
Perhaps, what impressed me with this book is the various literary devices that were in place. I had this idea that LGBT literature is all about superficial stories about the lives of LGBT people, arguing for acceptance from the straight world. Because until now, that's the vibe I have been getting whenever I pick up a piece of LGBT literature. However, this book on the other hand felt so different. It was psychological fiction, the characters simply loved people of the same sex. Replace one of the names with a female name and you'll get your run-of-the-mill heterosexual romantic drama. Perhaps what is most striking is the idea that the characters have real emotions too, and they are human as well, like the rest of the population. They feel, they fall in love, they get hurt.
One of the most interesting literary devices I saw in this novel was the fact that parts of it were written in the second-person narrative. There were a lot of references that started with You said... and You [verbed]..., and depending on the chapter, the second person varied. This is because the chapters that were about Vincent and Marcel were alternating with the chapters about Vincent and Arthur. I felt that this use of the second-person narrative actually made the reader (me) more involved, because the prose felt like Vincent was writing or telling the story to me, and I would fill in the role of Arthur or Marcel, depending on the chapter.
The book is divided into three parts. The first part was written in the second-person narrative as I mentioned above, which chronicled events that happened in the span of one week. At the outset, Vincent meets both Marcel and Arthur for the first time, and their relationships develop in 7 days. Vincent meets Marcel in a salon, while he meets Arthur in their estate, since Arthur has a week of leave from the army, and his mother is the governess for Vincent's family.
The second part is written in the epistolary format, since both Arthur and Marcel leave Vincent in Paris. Arthur is sent back to the trenches, and Marcel has business to do in Illiers. This part consists of letters that were sent back and forth between these three characters.
Finally, the third part is more of a conclusion, since the climactic point of the book is actually at the end of the second part, and the third part serves as a nice way of tying things together. I do not want to reveal what the climax was about, but once everything fits into place, one would just be swept away.
So, overall, I liked this book. I definitely recommend it. The story is simple and yet moving, and powerful nonetheless. I don't regret the fact that I strolled into the library looking for some piece of modern French literature (which is why I grabbed a book from the PQ shelves), since I was able to pick up this one. I give this book 5 out of 5 stars for its brilliant structure.
June 3, 2022
Philippe Besson é um autor que tenho vindo a descobrir. Tenho sempre uma relação algo ambivalente com os livros que vou lendo dele. “Deixa-te de Mentiras” - o seu livro mais conhecido em Portugal - é um livro que me encanta e que pontualmente me irrita com a mesma intensidade.
Neste “Em tempos de guerra” essa dicotomia volta a surgir. A construção narrativa, algo entre as “entradas de um diário” e a narração epistolar com cartas trocadas entre as três personagens masculinas, é particularmente interessante. A linguagem, muitas vezes poética é intensa e bela.
Ainda assim a trama parece-me algo “forçada” e as personagens perdem-se em múltiplos estereótipos. O amor - e as cenas de sexo - entre um adolescente - filho da alta burguesia -, de 16 anos e um professor de 21 anos (soldado na frente de batalha da I Guerra Mundial e filho da empregada da casa) está construído de uma forma pouco realista para o quotidiano da burguesia parisiense do início do século. Diferentemente a amizade entre esse mesmo adolescente e Marcel Proust está marcada por inúmeros sinais da obra e da vida “proustiana” que me encantaram como leitor.
Como conclusão diria que o modelo da obra e a escrita me encantou, a história ficou um pouco aquém mas foi um bom início de leituras neste mês do Orgulho LGBTI.
Neste “Em tempos de guerra” essa dicotomia volta a surgir. A construção narrativa, algo entre as “entradas de um diário” e a narração epistolar com cartas trocadas entre as três personagens masculinas, é particularmente interessante. A linguagem, muitas vezes poética é intensa e bela.
Ainda assim a trama parece-me algo “forçada” e as personagens perdem-se em múltiplos estereótipos. O amor - e as cenas de sexo - entre um adolescente - filho da alta burguesia -, de 16 anos e um professor de 21 anos (soldado na frente de batalha da I Guerra Mundial e filho da empregada da casa) está construído de uma forma pouco realista para o quotidiano da burguesia parisiense do início do século. Diferentemente a amizade entre esse mesmo adolescente e Marcel Proust está marcada por inúmeros sinais da obra e da vida “proustiana” que me encantaram como leitor.
Como conclusão diria que o modelo da obra e a escrita me encantou, a história ficou um pouco aquém mas foi um bom início de leituras neste mês do Orgulho LGBTI.
January 14, 2024
starting 2024 with this book that broke me and left me shattered on the floor ; I do not wish to be collected, I wish to stay there, with all my sharped emotions and I invite you to come and step on them so you could feel too
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June 17, 2019DNF
Philippe Besson admira obviamente Marguerite Duras, e este pastiche LGBT até podia ser interessante se o protagonista não fosse tão irritante e se a situação não fosse tão inverosímil.
Vincent, que já disse umas dez vezes em 50 páginas que tem cabelo preto, olhos verdes e pele de menina, encontra-se com Marcel Proust (30 anos mais velho, nada creepy) à tarde e dorme com o filho da empregada (sim, esse cliché) à noite. Primeiro, diz: "Já não sou inocente. Já não sou uma criança", mais à frente afirma: "Sou uma criança despreocupada". Decida-se...
Estamos em 1916 e toda a gente reage com a maior naturalidade quando vê Proust com este jovem. Estamos em 1916 e Vincent dorme a noite toda, até ser manhã, com o filho da empregada, com a maior das descontracções. Idealmente, a realidade seria mesmo assim, mas não me parece, portanto, exige-me uma suspensão da descrença que não possuo.
Philippe Besson admira obviamente Marguerite Duras, e este pastiche LGBT até podia ser interessante se o protagonista não fosse tão irritante e se a situação não fosse tão inverosímil.
Vincent, que já disse umas dez vezes em 50 páginas que tem cabelo preto, olhos verdes e pele de menina, encontra-se com Marcel Proust (30 anos mais velho, nada creepy) à tarde e dorme com o filho da empregada (sim, esse cliché) à noite. Primeiro, diz: "Já não sou inocente. Já não sou uma criança", mais à frente afirma: "Sou uma criança despreocupada". Decida-se...
Estamos em 1916 e toda a gente reage com a maior naturalidade quando vê Proust com este jovem. Estamos em 1916 e Vincent dorme a noite toda, até ser manhã, com o filho da empregada, com a maior das descontracções. Idealmente, a realidade seria mesmo assim, mas não me parece, portanto, exige-me uma suspensão da descrença que não possuo.
June 25, 2019
I'm still processing this novel a couple of days after finishing it. As someone who writes, I simply marvel at Philippe Besson's command of his craft. Often he packs more meaning into one sentence than I will have in an entire chapter. The writing is so exquisite. The translation is flawless. I realize that Besson's newest novel, Lie With Me, is getting all the press at the moment (partly due to Andre Aciman's correct praise, and Molly Ringwald's translation). But when you have finished reading Lie With Me, I would urge you to dig deeper into Besson and enjoy prose as you rarely find it nowadays. In the Absence of Men may be, at least to me, the best indictment of both war and class distinctions I have encountered. It is certainly the best love story I have had the pleasure to read.
January 4, 2022
Never judge a book by its cover. That appears to be very true for a lot of modern fiction: advertising produces covers that are more persuasive than the writing inside. The new edition of In the Absence of Men is a handsome edition, compact, seductive and elegantly type-faced. Besson's prose, however, is thin, and its narrative borders on the absurd. Part One is a sort-of-notebook in which the adolescent Vincent L'Etoile, a victorious star, attracts the love of two men: Arthur, an older soldier, and Marcel, a much older writer (Marcel Proust). The novel is a Platonic discourse on love, which never really reaches any great depths because Vincent is such a superficial young lover. In Part Two, conveniently, both adult lovers are separated from Vincent. This allows for an epistolary section in which the three characters, via a trialogue, speculate on love and war. The letters from Arthur are reminiscent of the liebestod struck by poets in the First World War. And the letters from Marcel are an odd mix of Barthes spiced with Wilde -- not at all convincing. Part Three offers the inevitable tragic conclusion and a sting in the tail that is so contrived that it strikes the reader as ridiculous. The result is a novel not so much in the absence of men as in the absence of believable writing.
January 24, 2020
A brilliantly written novel filled with dauntlessness, awareness, finesse and amour.
The writing reminded me of the fluidity of a steady-moving stream as the water cascades over stationary stones.....evermoving.
Here are a couple of excerpts that truly touched me and took hold of me deeply:
Vincent & Arthur before Arthur leaves for Verdun - A special memorable night that will forever bind them:
"I come to your body once more. I from one world to another. It is not so difficult to do.
First, you take me in your arms. Your immediate instinctive reaction is to touch me, to press against me, to impress your body on mine, to wait for the moment when they are symbiosis, the moment when marriage makes them one flesh. First, you seek out my lips, you sketch out a kiss, you find my tongue, our saliva blends. First, there is this irresistible passion, this need for one another, for sensual intimacy. First, you are silent, you do not say a single word. The room is filled with our silence, filled with the sounds of bodies brushing against each other, with the sighs of mingled mouths. It is the most sensual of silences, one which says all there is to know about who we are, what binds us, what our future holds. I leave everything to you. More than that, I expect you to behave like this. My mouth travels down the length of your chest, which I have bared. It tries in vain to possess the skin, the muscles, the bones, the very substance. It is a carnivore's kiss. Sometimes, I feel a shudder. I know that this is pleasure, that there is no guilt, no sense of wrong-doing, not in this moment in which we offer ourselves. My lips continue their descent, stop as then reach your lower abdomen, where the flesh is the firmest, where strength can be measured, where power resides and where, even so, it seems most vulnerable, where the risk is most evident because your defenses are down. And, then, my mouth brushes lightly your member. I am filled with wonder at the softness of your sex. I do not know, I cannot know, if all men are that same, but I have an inkling of the universal softness of the male sex. With my tongue, I slide back your foreskin. I know these acts of pleasure like an expert, like a novice. I know them as though I have known them for eternity, as though they were innate. Your sex hardens in my mouth. Nothing can study us."
Letter from Arthur to Vincent from a trench in the Verdun August 1916:
" We were sent together to the front. In the midst of the terrifying din, in the indescribable panic, we fought side by side, advancing the front line. Because you know we have to advance at all costs, win back inches of ground from the enemy, reach the barbed wire hundred meters ahead. We must move
forward, crouch, resting on one knee on the ground, stop, aim, perhaps kill someone, set off again, hope that we are not in someone else's sights. And every time we advance, we lose dozens of men. The bullets whistle past and find their mark in dozens of hearts. Th incessant thunder of cannon-fire flings bodies into the air, hurls bodies that are crippled, mangled, mutilated into the tracery of the shellfire. To escape, the slaughter, we drag ourselves into the holes and try to huddle into the dirt waiting for the moment when the firing stops. And when at last everything is calm - if one can call the petrifying silence calm - when it is calm once more to we hear the feeble voices of the wounded calling for the mothers like some memory of childhood, the voices of the dying begging to be saved or begging to be killed, we can hear prayers, from who knows where in the wreckage, incantations which drift off with the smoke of exploded shells. And then the pestilential stench reaches us from the field strewn with corpses, the stink of a slaughterhouse mingled with gunpowder. Make no mistake, death has a smell. And if I should survive, I will certainly recognize it if I ever smell it again. Then, when we haul ourselves out of our makeshift shelters we see the corpses everywhere, these bodies in curious poses, sometimes entwined as in some love scene which seems incongruous here, the frozen image of war.
The writing reminded me of the fluidity of a steady-moving stream as the water cascades over stationary stones.....evermoving.
Here are a couple of excerpts that truly touched me and took hold of me deeply:
Vincent & Arthur before Arthur leaves for Verdun - A special memorable night that will forever bind them:
"I come to your body once more. I from one world to another. It is not so difficult to do.
First, you take me in your arms. Your immediate instinctive reaction is to touch me, to press against me, to impress your body on mine, to wait for the moment when they are symbiosis, the moment when marriage makes them one flesh. First, you seek out my lips, you sketch out a kiss, you find my tongue, our saliva blends. First, there is this irresistible passion, this need for one another, for sensual intimacy. First, you are silent, you do not say a single word. The room is filled with our silence, filled with the sounds of bodies brushing against each other, with the sighs of mingled mouths. It is the most sensual of silences, one which says all there is to know about who we are, what binds us, what our future holds. I leave everything to you. More than that, I expect you to behave like this. My mouth travels down the length of your chest, which I have bared. It tries in vain to possess the skin, the muscles, the bones, the very substance. It is a carnivore's kiss. Sometimes, I feel a shudder. I know that this is pleasure, that there is no guilt, no sense of wrong-doing, not in this moment in which we offer ourselves. My lips continue their descent, stop as then reach your lower abdomen, where the flesh is the firmest, where strength can be measured, where power resides and where, even so, it seems most vulnerable, where the risk is most evident because your defenses are down. And, then, my mouth brushes lightly your member. I am filled with wonder at the softness of your sex. I do not know, I cannot know, if all men are that same, but I have an inkling of the universal softness of the male sex. With my tongue, I slide back your foreskin. I know these acts of pleasure like an expert, like a novice. I know them as though I have known them for eternity, as though they were innate. Your sex hardens in my mouth. Nothing can study us."
Letter from Arthur to Vincent from a trench in the Verdun August 1916:
" We were sent together to the front. In the midst of the terrifying din, in the indescribable panic, we fought side by side, advancing the front line. Because you know we have to advance at all costs, win back inches of ground from the enemy, reach the barbed wire hundred meters ahead. We must move
forward, crouch, resting on one knee on the ground, stop, aim, perhaps kill someone, set off again, hope that we are not in someone else's sights. And every time we advance, we lose dozens of men. The bullets whistle past and find their mark in dozens of hearts. Th incessant thunder of cannon-fire flings bodies into the air, hurls bodies that are crippled, mangled, mutilated into the tracery of the shellfire. To escape, the slaughter, we drag ourselves into the holes and try to huddle into the dirt waiting for the moment when the firing stops. And when at last everything is calm - if one can call the petrifying silence calm - when it is calm once more to we hear the feeble voices of the wounded calling for the mothers like some memory of childhood, the voices of the dying begging to be saved or begging to be killed, we can hear prayers, from who knows where in the wreckage, incantations which drift off with the smoke of exploded shells. And then the pestilential stench reaches us from the field strewn with corpses, the stink of a slaughterhouse mingled with gunpowder. Make no mistake, death has a smell. And if I should survive, I will certainly recognize it if I ever smell it again. Then, when we haul ourselves out of our makeshift shelters we see the corpses everywhere, these bodies in curious poses, sometimes entwined as in some love scene which seems incongruous here, the frozen image of war.
December 6, 2018
Sau khi đọc "Đừng tự dối mình", tôi bèn tìm những cuốn khác của Philippe Besson đọc và chỉ tìm thấy "In The Absence Of Men" là có bản tiếng Anh. Cuốn tiểu thuyết đầu tay của Philippe Besson được viết để dành tặng cho nhà văn có ảnh hưởng rất lớn đến sự nghiệp sáng tác của ông: Marcel Proust, dù Marcel Proust không phải là nhân vật chính, câu chuyện xoay quanh mối tình của chàng trai 17 tuổi với một người lính nơi chiến trường. Một cuốn sách đẹp đẽ, rung động, giàu chất thơ và trần đầy nhục cảm, hy vọng sẽ có những cuốn sách khác của Philippe Besson được dịch.
May 13, 2024
Beautiful writing but far too wordy...
...which is an odd thing to say for a book of less than 200 pages.
I just didn't believe that these are the voices of real people. Constant meandering, flowery language is fine for internal thoughts, but for dialogue? Especially when the central character is sixteen? Nope.
I do wish the character of Marcel was written out completely, and it was focused solely on Arthur and Vincent. Marcel's chapters irritated me immensely, and I just found him to be a bit of a creep.
Also the twist? I mean...meh?
Honestly, I don't understand the hype, but plenty of others seem to have enjoyed this.
Three stars for the quite clearly excellent use of language, and the parts focused on Vincent and Arthur's relationship.
...which is an odd thing to say for a book of less than 200 pages.
I just didn't believe that these are the voices of real people. Constant meandering, flowery language is fine for internal thoughts, but for dialogue? Especially when the central character is sixteen? Nope.
I do wish the character of Marcel was written out completely, and it was focused solely on Arthur and Vincent. Marcel's chapters irritated me immensely, and I just found him to be a bit of a creep.
Also the twist? I mean...meh?
Honestly, I don't understand the hype, but plenty of others seem to have enjoyed this.
Three stars for the quite clearly excellent use of language, and the parts focused on Vincent and Arthur's relationship.
March 26, 2023
Mr Besson I will once again be sending you my therapy bill
January 29, 2024
C’était magnifique. Rien d’autre à dire.
March 10, 2024
Love starting my day off crying 😀😀
August 11, 2023
I don’t think I’ll ever recover from Besson’s books. Even though it hurts, I feel the inexplicable urge to reread, to rewrite, to take these characters and put their names in my daily prayers. War is a terrible thing.
April 24, 2024
i am but a shell of a man after finishing this.
July 2, 2021
Je termine ce roman et je suis ému.
Ému par les récits de cette guerre que je n'ai pas connu, par l'intimité des lettres échangées, par le discours de Vincent.
Je termine ce roman et je suis frustré.
Frustré par ce dénouement qui, pour moi, n'ajoute rien à la tristesse ressentie par les événements de la deuxième partie du livre, mais qui plutôt retire de la crédibilité à cette histoire pourtant si plausible et émouvante.
Je termine ce roman et je suis troublé.
Troublé par les dernières pages ondulées et à l'encre déteinte du livre d'occasion que je tiens entre les mains, sans savoir si elles le sont par la pluie ou par les larmes de celui ou celle qui les a lu avant moi.
Ému par les récits de cette guerre que je n'ai pas connu, par l'intimité des lettres échangées, par le discours de Vincent.
Je termine ce roman et je suis frustré.
Frustré par ce dénouement qui, pour moi, n'ajoute rien à la tristesse ressentie par les événements de la deuxième partie du livre, mais qui plutôt retire de la crédibilité à cette histoire pourtant si plausible et émouvante.
Je termine ce roman et je suis troublé.
Troublé par les dernières pages ondulées et à l'encre déteinte du livre d'occasion que je tiens entre les mains, sans savoir si elles le sont par la pluie ou par les larmes de celui ou celle qui les a lu avant moi.
January 8, 2023
3.5/5 ⭐️
Um I didn’t dislike this book but it also didn’t leave a mark on me. The characters felt robotic. And I don’t know if that is how sixteen year-olds spoke in early 20th century France but damn that was a very indifferent teenager.
But, I still really loved some of the dialogues in this book. I liked the way it talked about the consequences of war. It’s a short and simple read if one wishes to read some beautiful dialogues/quotes.
Um I didn’t dislike this book but it also didn’t leave a mark on me. The characters felt robotic. And I don’t know if that is how sixteen year-olds spoke in early 20th century France but damn that was a very indifferent teenager.
But, I still really loved some of the dialogues in this book. I liked the way it talked about the consequences of war. It’s a short and simple read if one wishes to read some beautiful dialogues/quotes.
May 9, 2022
‘Call me by your name’ meets ‘Brokeback mountain’ meets ‘The absolutist’. Short, sharp, sweet, intense little novel. I enjoyed it very much
January 31, 2024
Oh dear, this was so bad. I've nothing against a good melodrama but this was pathetic, caricaturally so. Every single thing was off veering into being outright offensive. The two-star rating is for those three decent sentences I noted.
July 15, 2019
Un romanzo fatto di poesia. O la poesia che diventa romanzo... bello davvero
April 19, 2024
I preferred the style of writing from Book Two to the end. The end had an unexpected twist, which was fantastic.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 7, 2023
I’m definitely going to need a week to process this book because the last section had me reaching for the tissues and the final few pages had me stunned and shocked to the core.
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