Literature

Jean Romain tells us about the road

4 reading minutes

written by Jonas Follonier · June 9, 2020 · 0 comment

Tuesday's books - Jonas Follonier

Jean Romain, a member of Geneva's parliament, wears his biker's helmet as he delivers his new book, published by Editions Slatkine. Raconte-moi la route and consists of both text and photographs. We follow his travels to the four corners of the world, between plains, lakes, mountains, motels, mortals and monument-valleys. At the end of a pleasant read, we retain the colors, the smells, the memory of what is also a story of camaraderie and, above all, an eulogy of literature, which could well take the form of a woman.

We knew about his passion for the open road—long motorcycle trips. And it’s important to emphasize the motorcycle, much more so than the road itself, because that’s one of the themes of Raconte-moi la route. In this new installment, Jean Romain emphasizes that whether on foot, by car, or by bike, things wouldn’t really be the same—and even less so by plane, that darling of tourist democracy. «So I’ve never exactly followed the path I intended to take. Therein lay one of the definitions of freedom, for on a motorcycle, the route adapts to our desires and our curiosity; by giving our thoughts back their avenue of dreams, the motorcycle enhances the dreamlike quality of the landscapes. Time takes on a different quality there; it highlights the moment: and in that I find one of the definitions of happiness.» In short, the adventure recounted here and the thoughts it inspires are simply possible by motorcycle.

But the road itself already has a lot to offer. Starting, of course, with the imagery associated with it, which the authors of the Beat Generation have elevated it. It’s no coincidence that Jean Romain begins his story with childhood memories of his father. Tradition, in its most concrete and positive sense, is all about the road. At the beginning, someone has to show the way. And to wrap the idea of travel in a dreamlike glow. Then, a collective memory takes hold around the road, offering itself to anyone who wants to hear it, feel it, see it, or taste it. The author’s splendid photographs, spread across glossy pages, serve as a fitting reminder of the sensory experience—essential to any journey.

Yes, Jean Romain’s writing is a true tribute to the spirit of these places—and thus to their landscapes—but also to their past, shaped by events and characters. The author enriches this tribute with his literary encounters—with the prose of Lacarrière, Bouvier, Kerouac, and Chappaz, as well as the verses of Brel, Cohen, and other uncredited traditional American songs. There is also a sense of companionship in the present, formed by the loved ones with whom Jean Romain hits the road. Lady Elle, Jeff, and all the others participate—just like the reader—in what is fundamentally an experience of the’here and now. A path to appreciating the simple things—undoubtedly a key to life:

«[…] the traveler despises nothing—no light, no scent. Everything takes on greater significance to his senses, for they act like a magnifying glass, enlarging the details and bringing them to the forefront. I still have, deep in my memory, the scent of wormwood on the plain, the flight of a dragonfly, the sand whipped up by the wind, and the shifting light in the heat that heralds a storm in the distance. For the road amplifies these details, turning them into events.»

If the road is life for Jean Romain—as it is for everyone else, for that matter—then the landscapes are faces… of women. As you explore this book, you’ll no doubt notice these passersby—iconic figures of the journey—sometimes brunette, sometimes blonde; sometimes elderly, sometimes young; sometimes affable, sometimes rough around the edges. Very quickly, their stories become intertwined with those of Monument Valley, Spain, Norway, and Tuscany—the places the protagonists travel through.

«Jef spoke of the North as one speaks of a woman—or rather, as one speaks to a woman—using very gentle words to describe the herds of reindeer, the wind in the trees» hair, the vast clear-cuts, the murmur of the rivers, the wooden bridges, and the turquoise fjords.”

We’ve now reached the end of the journey, feeling a desire to throw everything to the wind and hit the road, going from tavern to tavern—those crossroads where beer is enjoyed in complete serenity. Where the questions «wohin?» and «woher?» fade away, replaced by the simple «wo?» Faced with this question, the answer is both classic and perfectly sufficient: «on the road.».

Write to the author: jonas.follonier@leregardlibre.com