Carnac

by Guillevic, John Montague (Translator)

One of France’s most important modern poets, Eugène Guillevic (1907-97) was born in Carnac in Brittany, and although he never learned the Breton language, his personality is deeply marked by his feeling of oneness with his homeland. His poetry has a remarkable unity, driven by his desire to use words to bridge a tragic gulf between man and a harsh and often apparently hostile natural environment. For Guillevic, the purpose of poetry is to arouse the sense of Being. In this poetry of description – where entire landscapes are built up from short, intense texts – language is reduced to its essentials, as words are placed on the page ‘like a dam against time’. When reading these poems, it is as if time is being stopped for man to find himself again. Carnac (1961) marks the beginning of Guillevic’s mature life as a poet. A single poem in several parts, it evokes the rocky, sea-bound, unfinished landscape of Brittany with its sacred objects and its great silent sense of waiting. The texts are brief but have a grave, meditative serenity, as the poet seeks to effect balance and to help us ‘to make friends with nature’ and to live in a universe which is chaotic and often frightening. Introduction by Stephen Romer. French-English bilingual edition. Bloodaxe Contemporary French 9

Genres: Poetry

160 pages, Paperback

First published December 1, 2000

About the author

Son père, d'abord marin, se fait gendarme et l'emmène à Jeumont (Nord) en 1909, à Saint-Jean-Brévelay (Morbihan) en 1912, à Ferrette (Haut-Rhin) en 1919 où il apprend l'allemand et sa variante alémanique, l'alsacien.
Après avoir passé un baccalauréat de mathématiques, il est reçu au concours de 1926 dans l'administration de l'enregistrement (Alsace, Ardennes). Nommé en 1935 à Paris rédacteur principal à la direction générale du ministère des Finances et des Affaires économiques, il est affecté en 1942 au contrôle économique. Il appartient de 1945 à 1947 aux cabinets des ministres communistes François Billoux (Économie nationale) puis Charles Tillon (Reconstruction). En 1947 après l'éviction des ministres communistes, il réintègre l'Inspection générale de l'Économie où il s'occupe notamment d'études de conjoncture et d'aménagement du territoire, jusqu'à sa retraite en 1967.
Il devient dès avant guerre l'ami de Jean Follain qui l'introduit dans le groupe Sagesse. Puis il appartient au groupe de l'École de Rochefort.
Catholique pratiquant jusque vers trente ans, il devient sympathisant communiste au moment de la Guerre d'Espagne, adhère en 1942 au Parti communiste alors qu'il se lie à Paul Éluard et participe aux publications de la presse clandestine (Pierre Seghers, Jean Lescure). Il demeure, malgré bien des réticences sur la fin des années 1960, fidèle à son engagement jusqu'en 1980.
En 1968, Jeanne Moreau interprète 17 textes de Guillevic (Les Chansons de Clarisse). Ils furent inspirés par un personnage d'un roman d'Elsa Triolet (Les Manigances) et mis en musique par Philippe-Gérard.
En 1977, il collabore avec le peintre Bernard Mandeville, dans le cadre d'un ouvrage biographique de l'artiste.
Guillevic a reçu le Grand Prix de poésie de l'Académie française en 1976, le Grand Prix national de la poésie en 1984, le Prix Goncourt de la poésie en 1988 et le Prix Bretagne en 1975.

Reviews

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Will we never play,
If only for an hour,
A few fleeting minutes,
Solemn ocean,

Without you having that air
Of being busy elsewhere?

- pg. 35

* * *

You look at the sea
And search for its eyes

You look into eyes
And there see the sea.

- pg. 39

* * *

You do ponder your deeps
That you look after them poorly,

Or perhaps you encourage
Those monsters who penetrate
The place of our nightmares.

- pg. 45

* * *

We would have power
And the power of not using it.

We would be full
Of what we possessed.

- pg. 49

* * *

We have no shore, really,
Neither you nor I.

- pg. 55

* * *

At Carnac other winds
Pretends to bear
Living breaths
But are only passers-by

- pg. 59

* * *

Without you, indeed, sun
The sea would still be
Striking at the infinite,
But in the dark

One suspects the sea
Of wishing to become

When you are there,
Sun.

- pg. 67

* * *

You want to fight each other
And you only manage to meet
To chafe each other.

- pg. 69

* * *

At least you, ocean, you know
That it is futile
To dream your ending.

- pg. 71

* * *

What do you say of this blue
You become on the atlas?

Have you sometimes dreamt
Of looking like that

- pg. 75

* * *

You have nothing to cover yourself with
But the flaring sky,

The weightless clouds
Which the wind changes.

You dreamt of much more,
You dreamt more strictly.

- pg. 81

* * *

Pound, pound, pound,
Since that keeps you busy

And since for us
The spectacle is grand.

- pg. 89

* * *

You dream of rocks
To fashion yourself a skeleton.

Go on, go on,
Caress them with your waves

And remain invertebrate.

- pg. 91

* * *

It happens that a pine
From the top of the cliff
Looks at you and quivers
All day long.

- pg. 93

* * *

So vast, so heavy
And so limited.

A little sand
Which you shift.

You need so long
To do so very little.

- pg. 97

* * *

Your father:
Silence.

Your duty:
Movement.

Your disavowal:
Mist.

Your dreams.

- pg. 105

* * *

The wind, the sand and you
Had rendezvous

Of which you pretended
To speak in passing.

- pg. 113

* * *

I speak badly of you.

I should speak
As vague and confusedly
As your monotonous waters.

And in bursts
For your anger,

Your fixed ideas
Under the sun.

- pg. 129

* * *

A whole arithmetic
Lies dead in your waves.

- pg. 131

[Rogue Male · Rating 3 out of 5]

6/10

[Brenna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Now THIS is a beach read. You will never look at a seascape in the same way after reading this gorgeous work.