The exasperated sentimentalist

Celine is an exasperated sentimentalist, said Drieu La Rochelle. He was absolutely right. It is found in Bagatelles pour un massacre the long complaint of a sentimental man, enamored of the biggest fears at the prospect of a new war, this new butchery which is bound to happen; he feels it, he knows it.
Céline is primarily a scholarly monster. He knows whereof he speaks. He actually lived everything he says. He actually read everything he quotes. He understood the entire frame of the Bolshevik revolution before anyone else ... 40 years before Antony Sutton ...
It does not pretend. He does not look at life through the glass of a car, like so many of these bourgeois hacks it down in flames. He has reason to tell what he said. And he said it with such strength ...
Those who strive to separate man from the writer at Céline have ever read; if they read it, they did not understand. Celine is not a writer; he is a man! He writes as he thinks, he thinks as he writes. There is no cheating. He feels things we, little idiots woodlice of the XXI century have not even idea. Céline is there, alive. It touches the marrow of humans.
There are probably minor things: he is a little too outspoken, sometimes it insists too much on the reproaches he addressed to the company at the expense of the messages he intends to convey. Sometimes he starts yelling so loud it would come to forget that Céline, above all, above all we would like to leave him alone. Either one can not deny that it is racialist.
But that's all. Other than that, Celine is a giant; it surpasses all of us. The criticism would be to confirm what he wrote throughout this pamphlet who did so much ink to flow ...

Learn again to read, without prejudice.