Literary dandyism, an elegant insurrection against the trivial, has found a figure in French-speaking Switzerland: Florian Eglin, a punchy aesthete.
Imagination is a fertile breeding ground from which the most diverse branches escape. Marie Mangez's and Benjamin Stock's novels, both of which came out at the start of the new literary season, deal with the slippage of fiction into our lives, with quite opposite follies.
Shortly before the New Year, Radio Télévision Suisse (RTS) brought out the silver and crystal with a historical series produced in collaboration with Netflix. If this lavish work is also audacious, it lacks prodigiousness.
Since January 22, «Inconnu à cette adresse» (adapted from Kressman Taylor's novel of the same name) has been returning to this 10th arrondissement venue, directed by Jérémie Lipmann and starring Stéphane Guillon and Pascal Elbé. The result is exhilarating.
Pauline Toulet delivers an eccentric first novel, critical of the literary world and centered on an eccentric character, more interested in marabouts than his time. But it failed to captivate me.
Year after year, Peter continues to delve into the mysteries and connivances between individuals. With «L'heure bleue», the Thurgau novelist takes us behind the scenes of a documentary about a writer.
The octogenarian director Margarethe von Trotta, a figure of the new German cinema, signs a relentless and gripping biopic on the relationship between two other major protagonists of the 20th century German literary world: Ingeborg Bachmann and Max Frisch.
After venturing into poetry and publishing an essay (devoted to Jean Lorrain), Quentin Mouron has returned to his love affair with novels with «La dernière chambre du Grand Hôtel Abîme». A reunion on the rocks.
If there's one field where the bon chic bon genre reigns supreme, it's literature. And yet, Les Nouvelles Editions Humus has taken the complete opposite approach with its Damned collection, which crowns the bad genre.
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