I can not endorse the other comments. Certainly, it is beautifully written, and, after all, in the acutelle production, is not so bad. Certainly Ormesson no shortage of drowning in its culture. It is no longer so common that we can say that this is what remains when one has forgotten everything. But after? Nothing! If this novel, which depicts the author himself, is the truth, is simply pathetic and sad, and he would probably win to be silent. If it is a work of imagination, it is foolishness. Too bad. So far, ten works of Jean d'Ormesson I read (and even recently, "a tearful celebration") had me all excited. Horrible disappointment with it and horrifying feeling of having wasted my time (provided that the "scientific" considerations put forward by the author are worth what they are worth and that it is still better to read the works of Heisenberg and Brian Greene).
