Anéantir

Anéantir revisits the unsettling threat Houellebecq perceives in our society, once again casting him as a writer of speculative fiction.

“What is it about? Chinese solar panels, an electoral campaign, boomer psychology, technology transfers, Breivik, urban solitude, fertility rates, eco-fascism, nihilism, strokes, inheritance law, the selfish gene, sexual misery, the Rassemblement National, Zemmour, the Beijing–Washington trade war, dreams, chaos, Islam, biotechnology, Sephardic dentists, Le Lambeau, euthanasia, more dreams, an electoral campaign, a lack of notoriety… (a non-exhaustive inventory). And then love, always, which he repeats is his main subject. But do we turn to literature to find the evening news menu? An atmosphere sometimes reminiscent of Baron noir, though the hope is quickly disappointed, since it is far less cruel.” (Pierre Assouline). Anéantir is neither a novel of twists nor of suspense. Assouline is right: “it aims to be a thriller, but on that score Grangé, Chattam, Minier and Thilliez need not worry.” Nor is Anéantir a compartmentalized novel, nor even, probably, a symbolic one: its main character understands little of what surrounds him, and barely more of what happens to him and to his own. His father is now mute — and this will worsen over the last hundred pages, undoubtedly the most interesting in the novel. In the end, the vision is clear: our civilization has embarked on a generalized decay, and it will need no one’s help to bring it about. Slowly, methodically. Straight into a wall, with no other way out.

So many dead-end paths and straight lines, like those suggested by Jean Luc Honegger’s design.

A very fine copy.