A tormented childhood

Once the shock wore off, and it is one that read Ending Eddy Bellegueule, many questions arise. Edouard Louis, 21, would he have written the same book at 30, 40 or 50 years? Looking back, the rage to say this martyred childhood she would be mitigated, turning into colder analysis, least in the immediate suffering and restorative catharsis? The author wanted to show hot, without watering anything, tell a nightmarish childhood and early adolescence in a small village of Picardy, France deep, rural and working-which he describes with precision entomologist manners and daily life between abuse of drinks, hate elsewhere, visceral racism, cult of violence and absolute machismo. An infernal autofiction, sincere painful er whose lucidity and radicality nailed to the pillory all accounts of the same ilk that bloom on the shelves of bookstores. Edouard Louis has (more) afraid of anything, so he lived in fear, stigma and the rejection of his "difference" he has put everything in writing to cure or at least heal if possible, all the physical and moral wounds collected over the years. It may well be accused of sordid or any other grievance, no matter, he has his conscience for him and his testimony, crude and shameless, is simply relentless. Certainly his entourage will never have the right to express his version, without doubt this is why the book is labeled novel, but there are enough facts and the existence of Eddy / Edouard events for that is not bringing him to court for abuse of misfortune. And then, in the description of this sordid environment, a writer was born. Its mastery, its evocative power are striking maturity. Obviously that is aging faster when receiving blows, that one has to deal with homosexual all the time and that every day is like a hell. Edouard Louis finished with Eddy Bellegueule, its reconstruction is running. May he find his balance now. If it goes through other books of this caliber, they will be many who will follow in this quest for serenity and happiness; that is if the word still means something after such suffering.