2023-10-19 05:00:01
With immersive writing, Kevin Lambert, finalist of the Médicis and Décembre prizes, takes us into the well-kept secrets of the ruling class.
After depicting the working class in Quarrel (Le Nouvel Attila, 2021), which told the story of a strike in a sawmill in Lac St Jean in the Canadian North, Kevin Lambert this time immerses us in the spheres of the very upper bourgeoisie of Montreal. This third novel by the young 29-year-old Canadian writer, published in August by Le Nouvel Attila, appears in the latest selections for the December and Medicis Prizes.
The story : Céline Wachowski, a brilliant Canadian architect, is at the height of an international career when she finally gets the opportunity (it was her dream) to build the headquarters of a multinational in her own city, Montreal. The “stararchitect” has built emblematic buildings all over the world, she has her own show on Netflix, she rubs shoulders with the political-cultural elite of her country and the whole world, she has her private plane, her house is teeming with works produced by the most prominent artists of contemporary art, we study it in universities…
Nothing seemed able to stand in the way of his rise when the first criticisms of his fall appeared on his own land. He is accused of contributing to the gentrification of Montreal and fueling the housing crisis. He is also accused of“tax avoidance”, of “to be one of those very rich people who refuse to pay their share”. She is suspected of having built her empire on the skin of the most miserable people on the planet. Those close to her, smiling in front, stabbing in the back, also end up letting go of her, or even pushing her a little deeper…
Celebration
With this third novel, Kevin Lambert offers us an edifying portrait of the powerful of this world, through the portrait of Céline and her loved ones. The novel opens with a light party and closes with another, which is much less so. The first plunges us into an atmosphere of Gatsby the magnificent. We discover the character of Céline, in the middle of the elite, in the sumptuous decor of an apartment where a swirling atmosphere reigns, full of superficiality but suffering no lack of “good taste”. Céline is withdrawn, a disillusioned observer, between boredom and dark thoughts, as if she was already no longer part of the game. The last party was the one that her loved ones organized for her 70th birthday. This time the party turns into a tragedy. Between the two, time passed, her world cracked, but she resisted.
Through the destiny of this iconic character of wild capitalism and his microcosm of the wealthy, the novelist paints a picture of Montreal society, architecture as an illuminating manifestation of the state of the world, and of the powers at artwork. How will Céline weather the storm? Is she capable of hearing the criticism, what is her view, overlooking, on the questions and conflicts that run through society, among others raised by her architectural project which must house a multinational known for its unsavory practices? Will its interior structure hold up?
“Gabriela knows too well that there is no point in waging an open struggle, a great debate on the validity of Céline Wachowski’s way of life, her justificatory fortresses are the most extravagant, the most formidable and the most solid constructions of her catalog…”
Kevin Lambert
“Let our joy remain” p. 290
In this world where the richest devour almost the entire pie without sharing, what are the powerful hiding behind their ambitions? What is left for Céline when everything has shrunk, other than the faint but oppressive memory of a poisoned camellia?
“The research”
“Let our joy remain” : what joy is this about, and who is hidden behind this first person plural? Far from the joy sung by Giono, that of Céline, like that of her peers, no longer knows which source to drink from.
“Protect them, protect them from the assaults made on them, make our bastions hold, let our tenderness prevail over villainies, make beauty reign, protect us, oh let our joy remain!”
Kevin Lambert
“Let our joy remain”, p.82
Social criticism is not here, as is often the case, built on conflict. Apart from the irruption of the world below in the final scene, the ultra-rich remain cut off from the world, including in the turmoil, which puts grains of sand in their cogs but does not propel them out of their sphere. Everyone has their own world.
Rather than a Manichean drama, Kevin Lambert prefers to give us a pointillist painting of this above-ground society and its members, who even if they are rich and powerful, nonetheless remain human beings with their complexity, their paradoxes, their contradictions, which they macerate internally, in their own broth.
In the footsteps of Proust (Céline is immersed in The research, consolatory reading), Kevin Lambert unfolds his story in long sentences, pages without paragraphs and without direct dialogue, like a long, uninterrupted tracking shot navigating from the petits fours to the interiority of the characters, without transition. This torrential flow of thoughts that flow, overlap, collide, mix, carries us into the visions of the world and the moods of the characters. Without respite, often on the verge of drowning, the reader is forced to apnea from start to finish of this powerful and asphyxiating novel, like the world it describes.
“Let our joy remain”, by Kevin Lambert (Le Nouvel Attila, 360 p., €19.50)
Cover of the novel “Let our joy remain”, by Kevin Lambert, published August 18, 2023 (LE NOUVEL ATTILA)
Extract :
“May our joy remain… The chant now assails her. Now that she no longer sings, the choir takes on another voice, it begins to sound differently, as if an imperceptible variation had imposed itself in the boring repetition of the refrain , as if a curious seventh had been added to the chord on which the dry throats vibrate, giving to this “Let our joy remain” an unpleasant texture. She no longer perceives any joy, the first sensation of the song, the pleasure of being together, the communion with Dina’s joy, this lament which knocked her down now gives way to a sharper gravity, a needle accidentally stuck in the palm of her hand. The twisted faces push the note and let unpleasant spittle escape. Her fragile steps, from the top of her dizzy pumps, oscillate.” (May our joy remainp.88)
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