{"id":18431,"date":"2018-12-23T17:21:45","date_gmt":"2018-12-23T16:21:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/leregardlibre.com\/?p=18431"},"modified":"2022-11-13T14:49:11","modified_gmt":"2022-11-13T13:49:11","slug":"meeting-with-claire-may","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/leregardlibre.com\/en\/literature\/meeting-with-claire-may\/","title":{"rendered":"Meeting with Claire May"},"content":{"rendered":"

Le Regard Libre N\u00b0 45 - Alexandre W\u00e4lti<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Claire May is intrigued by binationality. She discusses this subject in Oostduinkerke<\/em> in the same way as it examines the intimate tensions that are sometimes rooted in a certain social and cultural determinism, as in the case of its two main characters: Emma and Charles. That's what you realize when you close the last page of the Belgian-Swiss writer's first novel, published by Editions de l'Aire.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

The questioning of dual nationality now accompanies me on my way to the Caf\u00e9 du Simplon. Already, the place bears signs of dual nationality. The Simplon, the pass that links Switzerland and Italy. Although I'm probably over-interpreting the situation a little here. The caf\u00e9 adjoins the Lausanne train station. In summer, the terrace is often filled with the hubbub of conversation. In autumn, the atmosphere is more subdued and it's indoors that the rumor of discussions gives rhythm to the day, as on this October 29, 2018. A few customers are reading the newspapers; three of them, between the bar and the toilet corridor, are talking about Jair Bolsonaro's election in Brazil. Someone flushes the toilet. No, they don't! Too bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The need to write down origins<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

A woman enters, still wrapped in her turquoise scarf with black spots, and looks around. The light grey walls are lit by small round lamps. I ask her if she isn't Claire May. And yes, that's her! A first contact that puts spontaneous smiles on our faces. We then settle down on the quieter benches at the back of the caf\u00e9, near the window. She orders a cup of tea. We immediately talk about the need to question our origins: \u00abFor Charles, it was all intuitive, whereas Emma discovers this need because she loses a landmark when she sees the family home disappear. She's trying to find her place in the world. I personally feel a similar need. In particular, I've written Oostduinkerke<\/em> because I'm the product of an era, a history, a determinism, and I was born in 1991, like Emma.\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Customers are intrigued by the clicking sound of our photographer's lens. I myself am not yet used to his presence. This feeling will soon disappear. The exchange prevails. Claire May rubs a packet of sugar between her thumbs and forefingers. I won't ask about the proximity of Emma and the author herself. Claire May tells us in a firm voice that there was an urgency to write this first novel, because of the obviousness of the theme. She is, after all, Belgian-Swiss. She adds, with a sudden gesture of her right hand, that she has been taking part in short story competitions for several years, and that she finally wanted to free herself from the constraints of this format.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two people with nothing but love to share<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Emma's character loses a part of herself when she learns that The Apicula<\/em> will soon have a new owner. It's as if a part of our childhood will disappear with this family vacation home. This building has been marked by time and existence like a stuffed toy you can't part with. It has lived, lives and still vibrates in Emma's heart. The Apicula<\/em> could become a villa with swimming pool, heating and all the comforts of a holiday home near the North Sea. Dying without dignity. This emotional break, which punctuates the novel, adds an endearing dimension to Emma's introspective, almost cold and somewhat withdrawn nature. As Claire May puts it, with a smile on her face, she does her best to detach herself from this \u00abvery Swiss\u00bb character trait.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00abHe knew I was vulnerable, Charles - especially these days. But with me, he was learning that vulnerability and violence were not enemy sisters. He was tender. Never a word above another. Never a hand raised or a door slammed. A debonair man. A true lamb.
Let's just say that at the time, I still thought so. It was only the next day that I realized he was also hiding rage. A rage less conspicuous than mine. But a rage far more dangerous than my absurdly raised fist in the air.\u00bb<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Charles is Emma's opposite. The German-born waiter is \u00abvoluble\u00bb, in Claire May's own words, seems exuberant, handsome and confident. Her tone of voice relaxes as she approaches this character. She places the sugar sachet on the table. After a sip of tea and a few words about Charles, she's overcome with enthusiasm and seems rather proud of her creation. Charles hides behind history and his \u00abnostalgia for the East\u00bb so as not to reveal too much about himself, and in particular about his sudden flight after the fire he started in his family home in Wannsee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n