today, “I hear nothing, false siren” – Release

“The secret to Caesar, the meaning / to his servants.” Far from the current trend of a limpid poetry and focused on everyday life or commitments, Cédric Demangeot has traced a rarer and more hermetic furrow. From book to book he has established his own language, seeing in poetry not the echo of the life led but, on the contrary, a “Experience of dislocation”, as he expresses it in the powdering of conclusions (2020). Two books come to draw a final line on his exceptional trajectory: Cédric Demangeot died on January 28, at 46 years old. Two books with fighting titles: Passive sabotage elements, at Eric Pesty, and Walk and War at Flammarion.

We find there the dark images and the energy of struggle specific to Demangeot’s work. In Elements…, the “Passive sabotage” is played against another himself: “He loves flowers, women, smells / forgotten in the hallways. He suffocates / at their only memory – it’s in this / that he is devilishly resembling. ” The place of this joust of oneself against oneself is precisely literature: “The poem that I start to write is always the one who ends it.”

Walk and War explores, in the same vein and on such a creaking score, the “Flavor of friable materials”. In particular, it brings together two groups with titles that say a lot about Demangeot’s music: “La golem stutters” and “Méduse noueuse”. Here is one of the latter’s poems.

I hear nothing, forger siren; it

given as elusive, solved

bypass your

rock (truncated like a pier)

does not soften or under the silks

of the mental caress nor

by the opiums that we imagine and that we can

get on this side

waters. view from below where I gaped

your maniacal rhetoric of approx

sharp is only one

more sick calculus, one

census by themselves

a handful of fixed shadows

that I work to remove you from the body

by adding blacks to the light

– by physical division of

musical cloud that you oppose me

and recomposition of the matter trap

body (consumable for one

body) obscure. In line with this

rushed i want to see you – nowhere

it’s now – refuse for a moment

your cursed function, your glue, your

confinement in the knot of a

letter you need to

forces the origin

same here.

Cédric Demangeot, Walk and War, Flammarion, 240 pages, 18 euros. AndPassive sabotage elements, Eric Pesty editor, 32 pages, 10 euros.

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