Faces on the Tip of My Tongue by Emmanuelle Pagano

The ordinal French title was
Un renard à mains nues, (A Fox
with Bare Hands) alluding to
a particularly dark and 
memorable scene 

There is precious little about Emmanuelle Pagano (apparently now Emmanuelle Salasc) on the internet, excepting that she was born in Rodez, southern France, and in 1969. Pagano/Salasc is much translated and has received many awards, including being longlisted for the international Booker.

I had initially intended to read only one French book as part of my self impossed challenge, but having finished Spain my chosen French title had not arrived. So I fired up the old kobo and ordered a title from southern France, to act as a stop over between the Pyranees and Paris. E-books are generally not my thing, but needs must.

Faces doesn't have an explicit setting, but takes place somewhere in rural France, with mountains. With this is mind I decided to count it as being somewhere in Occitan for the purposes of my challenge (not that it matter, but I do like a good map, and had to put the red spot somewhere).

Faces on the Tip of My Tongue is sold as a short story collection, but this is not entirely accurate. The book is structured much like When I Sing, Mountains Dance (the subject of the last post) - though the point of view is restricted to humans this time. Each chapter takes a different point of view, and though they seem disparate at first, certain characters and events begin to recure, and it becomes evident that the book is a cohesive work rather than a true collection of short stories.

Apparently Emmanuelle Salasc
"regularly collaborates with artists
working in other disciplines
such as dance, cinema,
photography, illustration, fine art
and music." Though how she does
this I couldn't say.

Pagano/Salasc uses second person narration to great effect throughout the book, a nice little nostalgic blast for those of us who grew up with Fighting Fantasy (YOU are the Hero!). It somehow gives the reading experience a cohesion. Though the narrative jumps around through time and perspective, often with few initial clues as to where we now are, the consistent referral to 'you' ties it together, giving the book a dream-like feeling, as is we, the reader, are the town - a kind of collective consciousness, we see everything at a closeness of perspective which is initially slightly bewildering - like looking at a cell through a microscope. It isn't until we see enough different details, from enough different angles, that the big picture starts to make sense. 

The prose in Faces is reserved, poetic in a sparse and understated fashion. From reading the notes of the translators (who did a sterling job) it seems great attention was paid to the language, with sounds specifically chosen to create recurring motifs, matching the imagery and the themes which reappear time and again, building upon themselves as the book progresses.

Pro tip: always check the size of the flag before
ordering

This is very close to being a five star book, but the bar has been set very high of late, and in the end I went with a very well deserved ★★★★☆.