Annie Ernaux, Part Deux

 

I've now finished my second book by Nobel Prize-winning author Annie Ernaux, and this one -- Getting Lost -- packs a serious emotional punch. 

At its core, Getting Lost is a diary: the memories and reflections of Ernaux. But of course, it's far more than that: this is a book about love, infatuation, and passion -- in all of their many forms. As much as Ernaux writes about sexuality and attraction is as much, equally, as she reflects on writing and language. Getting Lost is a book full of elation and pain: but again, those emotions are not limited to the realm of physical love; instead, they are applied to writing as well.

There are moments in Getting Lost when Ernaux's paralysis -- both as she begins her affair and then later as it comes to end -- envelopes everything: her narrative aches under the pain of waiting: for an early love to sprout and for that same love to disintegrate. Through it all, Ernaux summons the courage to write, to enter that dangerous "cave" where light does not always shine. This is a book about the ways we love, about how we become attracted to each other, and about, ultimately, how that attraction fades. 

Without the scaffolding of a novel, Ernaux's diary entries cut to the quick: there's no obfuscation, no cowardice; instead, there's honesty and a willingness to share. The tortured nature of love and infatuation is front and center here, and while Ernaux may 'get lost,' she delivers a striking clarity to her readership.