With this "Praise of disgrace," Alain Soral changes tone: just as powerful but much darker, blacker. No, it s is not chastened, not at all, it even seems that it still has "matured", if I may say so! Still, his choice of writing a novel, albeit heavily autobiographical, is not trivial. This allows him to approach this time a critique of our society with more perspective at an angle both more global, but also much more intimate. He managed to mix a still lucid and profound reflection, but also more general and comprehensive, our poor France, portrait revealing and poignant, but highly sensitive and refined, his character. A man, man in the street, disillusioned, still fighting as long as it can and to its small scale against all the deceits of our pseudo-democracy but, exhausted and beaten by the harsh trials of life with disease his wife gradually drowns finally gave up, exhausted. A terribly bitter history that challenges, highlighted by a black humor, very dark, and who, under the always incisive and saucy feather Soral, is the most virulent critics of our current society.
