“The confinement allowed me to re-read books that marked me and sleep in my library. Rereading takes you back to the state of mind of the first time. We can compare it to his new perceptions, to see how much we have changed or if we are still in phase. Last spring, the day I was writing the songs that gave rise to the record Strange life (1). At night I had insomnia, so I read like crazy.
The work that accompanies Mona Ozouf: “Portrait of a Woman” by Henry James
My little boy by Richard Morgiève (2) referred me to so many things! This testimony of the author on his son of whom he has joint custody expresses in a simple and pictorial way his feelings in front of the “flesh of his flesh”. We feel a weakened man who speaks very correctly of fatherhood. A man with a very virile outer shell, which his hypersensitivity belies.
With his sentences bordering on deconstruction, his sincere naivety, he sometimes reaches a sort of epiphany. He looks at his little boy and the rhythm of his thought reminds me of Rothko’s black canvases, Klein’s blue, Chagall’s paintings…
Show yourself up to the challenge of being a father
It is a book of crazy poetry, precise, fair, realistic… It makes us enter into the anxiety of a man who fears not showing himself up to the challenge of being a father, distraught by the immensity of his love for his child. It’s overwhelming.
I was in this problem at the time, during a separation, with a very young child. His guilt answered my questions. I read this text in the presence of Richard Morgiève at the Nuits de Manosque in 2002 and it was liquefied, very touched, because it is like his book, on edge.
I always told myself that I would reread My little boy. I was afraid of being disappointed. This is not the case. I recommend it to my friends, to bookstores, so well does it say what it is to be a father today in a context of family breakdown. “