Astragal

by Albertine Sarrazin, Patti Smith

'My Albertine, how I adored her! Her luminous eyes led me through the darkness of my youth. She was my guide through the nights of one hundred sleeps. And now she is yours.'

At the age of twenty-one, a sad and hungry Patti Smith walked into a bookshop in Greenwich Village and decided to spend her last 99 cents on a novel that would change her life forever. The book was Astragal, by Albertine Sarrazin. Sarrazin was an enigmatic outsider who had spent time in jail and who wrote only two novels and a book of poems in her short life - she died the year before Patti found her book, at the age of twenty-nine.

Astragal tells the story of Anne, a young woman who breaks her ankle in a daring escape from prison. She makes it to a highway where she's picked up by a motorcyclist, Julien, who's also on the run. As they travel through nights and days together, they fall in love and must do whatever they can to survive, living their lives always on the edge of danger. A bewitching and timeless novel of youthful rebellion and romance, this new edition of Patsy Southgate's original translation includes an introduction by Patti Smith.

Genres: Fiction, France, Classics, Novels, French Literature, Library Science, Womens

209 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1965

About the author

Albertine Sarrazin (17 September 1937 — 10 July 1967) was a French author. She was best known for her semi-autobiographical novel L'Astragale.

Born in Algiers, Algeria, she was quickly abandoned and put in the care of the social services, being then christened Albertine Damien in honour of the saint of the day she was found on. She was then adopted by a family that moved her to Aix-en-Provence. Within that dysfunctional family, she was abused by a family member and constantly quarreling with them, which led to an intense distaste for authority that stayed with her the rest of her life.

Although she was intelligent and did well in her studies, Albertine's family sent her to a reformatory school in Marseille. She escaped to Paris where she satisfied her thirst for literature and art while she engaged in prostitution. In 1953, a bungled armed hold-up led to her imprisonment within Fresnes Prison. Upon escaping (and breaking her ankle in the process) she met Julien Sarrazin, and the two were soon married. The two continued to live lives of crime, spending time in and out of jail and keeping in contact through letters.

In prison, Sarrazin wrote her first novels, L'Astragale and La Cavale, which were published after her release in 1964 (the astragale of the title is the French word for the talus bone, which both she and the main character of her novel broke on their escapes from jail). Astragale was translated in English at that same time. Their success allowed the married couple to settle in Montpellier where she wrote her third story, La Traversière. The novel also performed well, but she died shortly afterwards from complications during kidney surgery; she was only 29 years old.

(from Wikipedia)

Reviews

[☘Misericordia☘ ⚡ϟ⚡⛈⚡☁ ❇️❤❣ · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is something: in the search for freedom, in breaking one's feet in a hurry to get out (and what a hurry, 7 years at 19?), in looking for life, hurrying to get it all... Still, I sort of felt it was all a bit underdeveloped. We got vignettes where a real book could have stood.

[Barry Pierce · Rating 1 out of 5]

When I picked up Astragal (1965) by Albertine Sarrazin the cover told me that it is Patti Smith’s favourite novel. For future reference – never to ask Patti Smith for book recommendations. The author’s biography is far more interesting than the book she wrote. Sarrazin had a rough childhood which led to her to a life of crime and punishment. She wrote this novel whilst in jail and died aged 29. Astragal is a semi-autobiographical work which follows Anne, a 19 y/o girl who escapes from jail. During her jailbreak she physically breaks her ankle bone (or her l’astragale in French, hence the title) so she spends the whole book on the run (or hobbling along anyway).

My problem with this novel is that it is so influenced by the nouvelle vague that it almost reads like a parody in some chapters. As I read on I decided to turn the novel into a type of challenge to see if I could find the most ridiculous line. My two winners are, ‘Before the ambulance came, we had time to make love’ and ‘Julien pulls the bidet, by its iron legs, out from under the sink. We flick our cigarettes into it’. This novel is INSUFFERABLE. It is the scraps that graced the floor of Godard’s cutting room – the leering shot of Anna Karina and the philosophical ramblings of Jean Seberg. And worst of all it’s boring. Oh so boring. By the time I finished this novel I was à bout de souffle from all the huffing and puffing and sighing and tutting.

[Ian "Marvin" Graye · Rating 4 out of 5]

CRITIQUE:

In and Out of Prison

If there's any underlying theme to this novel, it's the theme of (relationships as) imprisonment.

Albertine Sarrazin wrote "Astragal" when she herself was in prison. At the beginning of the novel, Anne (the protagonist) was in prison on a five year sentence (the charge wasn't revealed).

Before her imprisonment, Anne worked as a prostitute in Paris. In prison, she had a number of relationships with other women. One of the women, Cine, was subsequently released and, while Anne was still in prison, wrote to her about a nightmare in which "you had fallen, very badly, from very high up, your ears were bleeding and there was nothing I could do for you, nothing except cry..."

This might imply that Anne's eventual escape would be tantamount to a fall.

Last Year's Lover

Anne described Cine as "last year's lover" (who had since been replaced by another prisoner called Rolande). Anne was -

"...Tired of her [Cine's] certainties, of her possessive extremes, of the mark she thought she had left on me, of her maternalism, my big girl, my little baby..."

Anne saw Cine's relationship as a burden -

"Then, you whose friendship I loved, you wanted to burden me with your love. You believed that you, you would be able to graft feelings onto me, sew a piece of your heart to me..."

Over the Wall

Anne eventually escaped prison by climbing over the wall and jumping clumsily onto the ground outside. She effectively became a fugitive, by breaking her ankle.

She dragged herself to the road that went past the prison, where she was discovered by a man named Julien (also the name of Albertine's husband).


Albertine and Julien Sarrazin, 1965 (Source:)

Changing Prisons

Both Anne and Julien knew that the prison authorities would try to find and apprehend her. Their task was to find a safe place where Anne's ankle could be healed without them being apprehended.

Outside prison, Anne and anyone who protected her were at risk of being discovered by the police. Anne realised:

"My new freedom imprisons me and paralyses me..."

As she moved from safe home to safe home, she became aware that those around her were hiding a fugitive from the law:

"It was true, it was a glaring truth, my foot was a menace to all of us."

Besides, she recognised that the different moves and relationships were only "changing prisons."

Anne knew "there was a stew of shattered bones and flesh inside there, and that a great deal of art and patience would be needed to put it back in order."

Julien told her -

"I'm looking for a hideout, some place where they'll take care of you. But it's still too close, both in distance and in time. You know they're looking all over, even in the hospitals."

Back to Man

Notwithstanding the state of her ankle and her extreme pain, Anne embarked on a heterosexual relationship with Julien:

"Julien was calling me back to man."

Anne declared that, with Julien, "I discover the pain of love."

She acknowledged "the complete and mysterious affinity between us from the very start...":

"There are certain signs imperceptible to people who haven't done time: a way of talking without moving the lips while the eyes, to throw you off, express indifference or the opposite thing; the cigarette held in the crook of the palm, the waiting for night to act or just to talk, after the uneasy silence of the day."

Série Noire

Back in Paris, Anne resumed her hustling, in between visits from Julien. Her public exposure on the street, in hotel rooms and in johns' apartments meant that there were many who were looking for her, not just her johns.

Albertine Sarrazine wrote lucidly about delinquent and transgressive life in Paris from her own personal experience. The novel was also expertly translated by Patsy Southgate.

This novel should appeal to fans of Anais Nin, Anna Kavan and "Betty Blue".


SOUNDTRACK:

Echo and the Bunnymen - "Over the Wall"

https://youtu.be/erKtIsnisp4

RVG - "Squid"

https://youtu.be/HAEevfmZSr4

RVG - "Nothing Really Changes"

https://youtu.be/o82-HLXkKzE

[Luís · Rating 3 out of 5]

This novel's words are raw and chopped up, mirroring the narrator's internal turmoil as her feelings are subjected to harsh upheaval tests. The real question that emerges is the nature of our narrator. For her, there is no middle ground between suffering and happiness. Orphaned, seemingly living in the air, with no support, and imprisoned, she manages to escape. A chance for a new life presents itself through Julien, who wants to help her integrate. However, although she is still young at home, happiness seems to come too late, to the point that the little joys of others only annoy him, highlighting the contrast between their perspectives.
It is a touching autobiography where the rejection of birth consisted of repeatedly generating rejection.

[Bjorn · Rating 4 out of 5]

19-year-old Anne - old enough to take her pants off, old enough to go to jail, legally still a child - jumps off the 10-metre wall of the jail where she's serving a 7-year sentence. Smashes her ankle, crawls to the highway, is picked up by a small-time crook with a motorcycle who helps her hide with various acquaintances as she recuperates as well as she can, having to depend on others. This is love. This is freedom. This is never being able to walk right again.

Astragal is many things. Largely autobiographical, to take the most obvious, tragic (and in a way least interesting) fact: Sarrazin - orphan, mixed-race, abuse victim - wrote the book, as well as the follow-up, in jail, and eventually married the guy on the motorcycle before dying at age 29. One of those books you should read before age 25 for the best effect, probably. A product of its time, for sure: "To live outside the law you must be honest", Week-End , all that jazz; a dream of "freedom" that's already starting to look frayed at the edges, asking the question "...of what? To what? For how long?" The astragal of the title is the ankle bone (specifically the one called "leap bone" in Swedish). The novel is named for the price she pays for freedom: the ability to run, to dance, to drive a car, to walk barefoot, leaving her free to be tied to the same world that saw her end up in jail in the first place. As she limps from hiding place to hiding place, falling in what love is there, trying to unpause, to become.

Of course, none of this would matter much if it wasn't also another thing: Really fucking well-written. Anne narrates the whole thing in a style that never seems like it's trying to be either literary or "street", just is, a jumble of detailed, unflinching but never too deliberate impressions and thoughts and memories that keep the story tumbling along in one long breathless monologue, even during the long stretches where little actually happens beyond bones stitching themselves back together. (No wonder a young Patti Smith loved it and gushes about it in the foreword.) It's not a nice story about how love or freedom or cameraderie fixes everything, or even anything. It's just a book that, somehow, keeps getting lighter even as the things it bears try to weigh it down.

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Written by Sarrazin while serving time behind bars this semi-autobiographical novel tells the story of Anne, who after jumping to freedom from prison fractures her ankle and is found by the side of the road by Julian (who also happens to be on the run), they journey together, quickly form a bond, and romance soon follows. This was a cool and sexy read, also very charismatically French. It also captured a certain style similar to that of a Jean-Luc Godard movie. Tragically Albertine Sarrazin died in 1967 aged only 29 due to complications from kidney surgery, and never really got to reach her true potential. This version of the book includes a brilliant introduction written by Patti Smith, and how it went on to have a big impact on her.

[Mahdi Lotfi · Rating 2 out of 5]

در ابتدای کتاب میخوانیم:
در یکی از روزهای سال 1937 ثمره عشق حرام یک زن پانزده ساله اسپانیولی با مردی که تاکنون مرموز و گمنام مانده، در الجزایر چشم به دنیا گشود. طفل حرامزاده را به شیرخوارگاه سپردند، همانگونه که هزاران کودک نامشروع دیگر به این سرنوشت دچار شده اند. مسئولین یتیم خانه دخترک را آلبرتین نامیدند. چرا آلبرتین؟ کسی نمیداند. شاید اولین اسمی که به خاطرشان رسیده همین بوده است. دوسال و نیمه بود که زن و شوهر پیری حاضر شدند او را به فرزندی بپذیرند. پدرخوانده اش سرهنگی پزشک و بازنشسته بود. او و زنش هر دو از مرز 50 سالگی گذشته بودند و طبعا حال و حوصله بچه تربیت کردن نداشتند. تنها دخترک را به خاطر تنوع و سرگرمی به زندگی یکنواختشان اضافه کرده بودند. نام آلبرتین در آن خانه عوض شد. از این به بعد او را آن ماری صدا می کردند. برای دخترک چه فرقی می کرد که او را چه بنامند؟ او هنوز این چیزها را تشخیص نمی داد...

[Αγγελική · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 / Δυνατή γλώσσα, ποιητικότητα, παραληρηματικός και ασθματικός λόγος. Μακάρι να είχε εκδοθεί κάποια χρόνια πριν, όταν ήμουν σπουδάστρια.

[Thom · Rating 4 out of 5]

Albertine Sarrazin’s novel Astragal, originally published in 1965, is full of a free-wheeling, self-mythologizing attitude rare in modern fiction, but which evokes an era which thrived on heroes who took control of their own fates, seeking complete personal freedom even if it meant living beyond the law - an attitude which was a contributing factor in the conflicts of 1968. Albertine herself never made it to that date (she died in 1967 of complications following surgery, after a life spent in and out of prisons and reformatories), but the novel still reverberates with her energy and spirit.

Albertine was born in Algeria in 1937, and was abandoned by her parents as a baby. Adopted and bought to France, she was an intelligent child, particularly good at Latin and Maths, but was abused by a member of her new family and placed in a reformatory school. This marked the beginning a life marked by transience and conflicts with authority. Escaping from the school, she travelled to Paris and worked as a prostitute, before being imprisoned in 1953 following a hold-up. She escaped from this prison, too, before meeting her husband. The two stayed on the run for the next decade, communicating by letters when one or the other was locked up. These are the experiences which went into the creation of the semi-autobiographical novel Astragal, written in prison in 1964, and published after her release.

Astragal is narrated by Anne, a stand in for Albertine herself. The novel opens with her escape from jail, during which she fractures her ankle badly. She is picked up at the roadside by a man on a motorcycle, Julien. She immediately sees that Julien is a fellow outlaw, recognising ‘certain signs imperceptible to people who haven’t done time; a way of talking without moving the lips’. The opening passages are filled with a sense of possibility; ‘the sky,’ she says, ‘had lifted at least thirty feet’. As the couple drive away, she announces that ‘a new century begins’.

This idea that one might meet one’s lover by chance, at the side of the road, go away together on the back of a motorbike via a series of safehouses and find your identity on the open road, is a common Sixties motif, referenced by everything from Easy Rider, Bonnie and Clyde and A Bout de Souffle to Natural Born Killers. Astragal, though, shows the experience from the point of view of the woman, frequently abandoned in a series of hostile or confining environments while her man goes off housebreaking. Held back by her damaged ankle, Anne spends her time on the run washing shirts, sewing ties and fending off pimps while Julian disappears for weeks at a time. She worries about being a liability to him, and about how she is going to pay for her board with the various opportunistic hosts Julian finds for her.

Albertine’s prose is lyrical and impressionistic, filled with images of rebirth. Anne’s initial escape takes place at Easter, and she knowingly refers to her ‘resurrection’ after spending three days in a hospital bed. The narrative recognises that rebirth is not an easy process. While her healing ankle suggests development, or growth, it also holds her back, physically. In the first house they come to, Julien places Anne in a child’s bed. Here, she is nursed, and begins the process of learning to walk again. She doesn’t have the agency of an adult, struggling against the constraints she is placed under and the behaviour she has learned (‘prison still surrounded me: I found it in my reflexes, the jumpiness, the stealth and the submissiveness of my reactions… several years of clockwork routine and constant dissembling of self’).

More important than this, though, is the mental effect of freedom: ‘suddenly I realised how much each cell, each drop of my blood meant to me, how much I was cell and blood, multiplied and divided to infinity in the whole of my body: I would die if I had to, but all in one piece’. In her introduction to this volume, Patti Smith, who encountered Astragal as a young woman thanks to a cheap edition in a Greenwich Village book stall, asks ‘would I have carried myself with the same swagger, or faced adversity with such feminine resolve, without Albertine as my guide?’ It is her powerful sense of self-definition, of control over her destiny, which gives Anne such strength. As a poor woman, on the run, many of the people she encounters are hostile, but she faces down individuals like the surgeon who treats her ankle but never ‘deigns to notice that, surrounding bone, there is a woman, an uncarvable being who works and thinks’.

She is unwilling to compromise her sense of self in any way; in Paris, she begins earning money again, street-walking, and considers sending some of her earnings to Julien, who is in prison at this point. His family object, as she is not his wife and they dislike her association with their son, so she drops the idea completely, declaring that ‘to send Julien money under another name doesn’t interest me’. Gradually, Anne becomes more independent, but still continues to wait for Julien, believing that they are fated to be together, even as her lover becomes increasingly unreliable. Several times she almost breaks away, travelling to the coast, but she is always drawn back to the Parisian underworld they both inhabit.

The narrative moves frequently between the present day and flashbacks, employing the kind of jump-cuts seen in a Godard film. Albertine never goes full stream-of-consciousness, but Anne’s interior monologue is brilliantly captured. She is also able to nail characters with a well-chosen phrase, such as Anne’s preening suitor, who is dismissed with the line ‘even the hairs of his moustache seem to have been planted’. Albertine Sarrazin is a rare literary voice, and Astragal is a compelling view of the counter-culture of her time, retaining a powerful sense of urgency half a century on from its creation.

[Randall Wood · Rating 5 out of 5]

A surprisingly lyrical and well told narrative, and a compelling individual as well. It's refreshing to hear about a life on the lam told in the first person. It may have been the effect of the translation from the French (which was excellent) but this story rings with a narrative quality - a rhythm - I haven't come across elsewhere. Sarrazin has the knack of making the obvious understated, and bringing out the detail with a dry and self-effacing humor. I think I'll remember this one for some time to come.

[Χριστίνα · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5 στα 5.
Ενδιαφέρουσα ιστορία αλλά δεν κατάφερε να με κερδίσει ολοκληρωτικά, γιαυτό και άργησα αρκετά να τελειώσω το βιβλίο. Ο λόγος της Sarrazin είναι χειμαρρώδης, αναλύοντας η ίδια την ιστορία μιας απόδρασης από τη φυλακή και το χρονικό μιας εκρηκτικής ερωτικής σχέσης δύο περιθωριοποιημένων ανθρώπων. Το βιβλίο είναι ένας "αγώνας" για την ελευθερία, όχι μόνο τη σωματική μέσω της απόδρασης από τη φυλακή, αλλά και την πνευματική που ίσως είναι και πιο ουσιαστική.

[Emily · Rating 2 out of 5]

Σχεδόν αυτοβιογραφικό το βιβλίο της Sarrazin έδρεψε δάφνες τη δεκαετία του '60 για το ύφος του.
Η ηρωίδα, πολύ νέα για να της καταλογιστούν πράξεις ικανές να την κλείσουν φυλακή με τα δεδομένα εκείνης της εποχής, ασφυκτιά μέσα στους 4 τοίχους. Τη γνωρίζουμε σκαρφαλωμένη στον τοίχο της φυλακής έτοιμη να πηδήξει προς την ελευθερία. Πέφτοντας από την άλλη μεριά συνθλίβει τον αστράγαλο της και ξαφνικά βρίσκεται ελεύθερη μεν ανήμπορη δε.

Παιδί εγκαταλειμμένο από τους πραγματικούς της γονείς είχε την τύχη να υιοθετηθεί από ένα άτεκνο ζευγάρι και την ατυχία να κακοποιηθεί από κάποιον του συγγενικού περιβάλλοντος της. Κρίνοντας εκ των υστέρων, από την πορεία της στη ζωή μέχρι το σύντομο τέλος της, το παιδί που θα είχε όλα τα φόντα να εξελιχθεί σε μια έξυπνη και χαρισματική προσωπικότητα κατάληξε να σέρνει τον εαυτό του από φυλακή σε φυλακή, με διαλείμματα εκπόρνευσης, κυνηγητού, μικροαπατεωνιών και περιστασιακών σχέσεων. Ακόμα και ο καταλυτικός έρωτας που φαίνεται να βιώνει, περισσότερο εγκεφαλικός μου μοιάζει.

Η ηρωίδα αναλώνει τον εαυτό της και τα νιάτα της κυνηγώντας την ελευθερία - απελευθέρωση της και αν μεν αυτό για τη δεκαετία του '60 ήταν κάτι, για τον αναγνώστη του σήμερα είναι κάτι πολύ χλιαρό.
Στο δικό μου μυαλό όλο το βιβλίο μεταφράστηκε ως εξής : ένα κατεστραμένο κακοποιημένο παιδί, με το οποίο κανείς δεν ασχολήθηκε συναισθηματικά, κανένας δεν προσπάθησε να επουλώσει το τραύμα του και το οποίο κατάληξε στο περιθώριο, εκπορνευόμενο και βαυκαλιζόμενο ότι βιώνει έναν καταλυτικό έρωτα, προσπαθώντας να παραμείνει ελεύθερο. 2.5/5
Στα συν του βιβλίου η φρέσκια γραφή παρά τα χρόνια που έχουν περάσει.
Ένα βιβλίο που σαφώς θα με είχε εντυπωσιάσει εάν το είχα διαβάσειτη δεκαετία που εκδόθηκε.

[Aprile · Rating 4 out of 5]

“L'astragalo è un osso del piede situato nel tarso che si articola superiormente con la tibia e il perone, inferiormente col calcagno anteriormente con il navicolare. Trasmette il peso del corpo sul piede. In caso di frattura, l'astragalo può essere colpito da necrosi asettica: l'osso non ricevendo più l'adeguato flusso di sangue viene visto, agli occhi di una comune radiografia, come "morto". Per ristabilizzare la circolazione, può essere tentata la strada dell'ossigenoterapia in camera iperbarica. Il trattamento delle complicanze è complesso e diversificato a seconda delle situazioni; nella maggior parte dei casi, in situazione di compromissione articolare, si ricorre a provvedimenti di artodresi, cioè il bloccaggio chirurgico delle articolazioni interessate.”
Non avevo mai sentito nominare l’astragalo, non avevo mai sentito nominare Albertine Sarrazin.
Introduzione di Patti Smith, ma la lirica confessione di Albertine è più bella.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 4 out of 5]

"L'astragale" serait un excellent choix pour un cours de littérature française à une université anglophone car on y voit tous les courants de l'époque de la nouvelle vague. Il est impossible de ne penser au film de Godard "Au bout de souffle" quand on lit ce petit roman. L'héroïne qui est clairement l'alter ego de l'auteure est une délinquante qui vit sa vie en dégringolade. C'est une voleuse, une prostituée, une alcoolique et une fumeuse invétérée. Même si elle est toujours vivante à la fin du roman, le lecteur sait que ses jours sont comptés.
Pourtant ce n'est pas seulement Godard que l'on trouve dans "L'astragale". Des fois la protagoniste fait penser à la "la pauvre fille de la rue" d'Édith Piaf. Des fois elle se comporte comme une héroïne d'un roman de Françoise Sagan. Ce petit volume offre finalement une excellente introduction à la culture française des années cinquante et soixante. Professeurs!! C'est à mettre au programme.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sneakily heavy little slinky fucker, this one. She comes on like so many others, then pivots and hands you the shard to slice her/your arm and join. Bloodsister, it was always a tumble and gash. See you in that heaven place of identity, young goddess. X

Irony: you got your immortality.

[Ludmilla · Rating 3 out of 5]

Geçen ay Patti Smith'in instagram hesabında gezerken sevdiği kitapları çektiği bir videoya denk geldim. Özellikle önerdiği bir kitap vardı: Albertine Sarrazin'in Aşık Kemiği. Kitap tanıdık gelince baktım, Smith'in M Treni'ni okurken not almışım ve kütüphanemde var ve o kadar eski bir baskı ki M Treni'ni okumadan çok daha önce almış ve sırasını bekleyenlerde çürümesine izin vermiş olmam da mümkün. (Ev içi yürüyüşlerimde Bruckner kitaplarının da kütüphanemde olduğunu fark ettim mesela. Acaba alıp bir köşede unuttuğum daha hangi kitaplar var diye düşünmeden de edemedim. Neyse, bir gün hepsini okuma umudumu hala koruyorum diyerek mevzuyu burada kapatayım.)

Sarrazin'in trajik hayatından izler taşıyan bir kitap Kemik. Ailesi tarafından terk edilmiş, evlat edinilmiş ancak aileye uyum sağlayamamış Sarrazin, özgürlük ve dünyayı görme isteğiyle okuldan ve evden kaçıp suç dünyasına adım atmış sonra ıslahevine kapatılmış. Buradaki kaçışı ise hayatının gidişatını belirlemiş: Aşık kemiğini kırmış (ki sonrasında genç yaşta ölümüne yol açacak) ve hayatının aşkıyla tanışmış. Kemik ise bu kaçışla başlayan ve yakalanmasıyla sona eren süreci anlatıyor.

Özgürlük, yaşamaya ve dünyayı görmeye duyulan açlık, isyan, aşk, huzuru arama, gençliğin saflığı ve tecrübesizliği kitapta öne çıkan ve Sarrazin'in şiirsel diliyle çok güzel işlenen temalar. Özellikle Sarrazin'in yaşamının nasıl sonlandığını bilince bazı bölümlerde gerçekten çok hüzünlendiğimi belirtmek isterim. Severek okudum. 3.5/5

Cezaevi beni daha bırakmamıştı: aynı tepkileri, aynı sinsilikleri, aynı boyuneğmeleri gösteriyordum. Kendi kendimden kaçmaktan ve yıllarca sürmüş, saatlerle kayıtlı bir yaşantıdan, bir günden ertesine kurtulunmuyor. Vücut özgürlüğe kavuşsa bile, o zamana kadar tek kaçılan yer olan bilinç, tam tersine davranışların esiri kalıyor; kendini küçük göstermek zorunluluğu gerçek bir rahatsızlık oluyor; oradayken her taşın altından çıkan ben, şimdi en doğal eylemlerin bile öncülüğünü yapmak yürekliliğini gösteremiyorum. Julien'in annesine olduğu kadar Pierre'e karşı da dudaklarımda hep "lütfen", "müsaade eder misiniz?" lafları vardı; ya da her hareketi açıktan açığa yapıyordum; sonra özgür olduğumu hatırlayınca, davranışlarıma bir sakarlık ve aşırılık geliyordu.

[Ρένα Λούνα · Rating 4 out of 5]

«Το οικοτροφείο πληρώθηκε για είκοσι τέσσερις ώρες· μπορώ να πάω περίπατο τώρα, και όλη τη νύχτα αν θέλω. Αλλά ακόμα ξενυχτάω ελάχιστα, το πόδι μου ζεσταίνεται, διψάει για παλιές παντόφλες και δροσερά σεντόνια, κι εγώ προσπαθώ να σταματήσω στα όρια κάθε ευκαιρίας για ιεροσυλία αν ένας άντρας έχει τα μάτια του Ζυλιέν ή αν κρατάει την τσάντα του όπως ο Ζυλιέν ή με πλησιάσει με τη φωνή του, γυρίζω από την άλλη πλευρά και τρέχω στον Ζαν, στον Ζαν που δεν έχει τίποτα για να με δελεάσει να τον ερωτευτώ το σώμα του δεν με αηδιάζει, είναι φιλικό και χωρίς εκπλήξεις, πρόθυμο, εν ολίγοις ευχάριστο. Αυτό που σιχαίνομαι είναι η ανυπαρξία του, η υποταγή του, το συστηματικό χαμόγελό του, όπου εμφανίζονται κάπου κάπου συσπάσεις θλίψης.»

Υπέροχο βιβλίο, με εξαιρετικά αγχωτική ταχύτητα. Η Σαρραζέν πλησιάζει την καρδιά του αναγνώστη, κουτσαίνοντας.

Οι περιγραφές είναι αυθεντικές, αστείες και γεμάτες φαντασία, το ύφος όμοιο με αυτό ενός παιδιού που έχει μπλεξίματα και η πλοκή καθηλωμένη, όπως η ίδια, στο μοτίβο ενός ταξιδιού απόδρασης από τη συστημική καταπίεση και προς την ελευθερία. Ο έρωτας επίσης είναι στο κέντρο, γεμάτος ιδανικά και ελευθερία. Οι φιλίες της, εξίσου πολύτιμες. Όταν έγραφε για τσιγάρα και κρυφά γέλια, και δουλειά και επαναλαμβανόμενα αστεία, ένιωσα πολύ όμορφα. Οι σκέψεις της προσγειωμένες και αστείες, με μερικά πιο ποιητικά σημεία που ισορροπούν πολύ προσεκτικά. Κυριαρχεί η αίσθηση του επείγοντος.

Κρατάμε παρέα στην Άννι όσο αναρρώνει από το κάταγμα στον αστράγαλό της κι εκείνη μας λέει αστεία, κουτσαίνει προς όλες τις κατευθύνσεις, προσπαθεί να κλείσει τη βαλίτσα που δεν κλείνει, ονειρεύεται να τρέξει, ονειρεύεται να βγει ο Ζυλιέν από τη φυλακή, φοβάται μη χάσει το πόδι, θυμάται να παίζει χαρτιά στη φυλακή και προσπαθεί να κρυφτεί αποτελεσματικά από τις αρχές. Εφηβική καρδιά, μάλλον δεν θα γερνούσε ποτέ.

[Aleksandra Fatic · Rating 4 out of 5]

Previše mi je ovaj dnevnik bio konfuzan i stresan, ali 4⭐️ samo zbog tako puno hrabrosti da se živi težak život u tako malim godinama!

[Panagiotis · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5/5 κανονικά. Κρίμα που δεν το διάβασα όταν ήμουν δεκεπτά ετών, όταν δεν ήμουν τόσο κυνικός και είχα φάει ελάχιστα χαστούκια από την πραγματικότητα.
Όλο το βιβλίο είναι σε πρωτοπρόσωπη αφήγηση. Με λόγο κοφτό, γρήγορο, γεμάτο δύναμη, χρησιμοποιώντας από αργκό μέχρι λόγιες εκφράσεις, η Ανν διεκδικεί το δικαίωμα στη ζωή, την αυτοδιάθεση, την ελευθερία. Μέσα σε μια ατμόσφαιρα σκληρά ποιητική, η ηρωίδα κινείται, δρα και αντιδρά. Η οξυδερκής ματιά της καταγράφει τα πάντα, περιμένοντας πότε θα φύγει, να περπατήσει στο Παρίσι να συνεχίσει τη ζωή της από εκεί που κόπηκε πριν τον εγκλεισμό της. Το δικό της Παρίσι δεν είναι το Παρίσι των μεγάλων βουλεβάρτων του βαρόνου Οσμάν με τις υπέροχες καστανιές και τα λαμπρά μέγαρα, δεν είναι το Παρίσι του Καρτιέ Λατέν, γεμάτο καφέ των διανοουμένων και των φοιτητών με τις ατέρμονες πολιτικές συζητήσεις, ούτε η Μονμάρτη των μπαρ και των καλλιτεχνών. Το δικό της Παρίσι είναι το Παρίσι των λαϊκών συνοικιών, των μικροκακοποιών, του υποκόσμου, των πορνών που συχνάζουν σε βρόμικα μπαρ και σε ξενοδοχεία που κάνουν τα στραβά μάτια, των εργατών που θέλουν να ξεδώσουν πριν γυρίσουν στις πνιγηρές ζωές τους, των μικρών κακοεπιπλωμένων διαμερισμάτων στις εργατικές πολυκατοικίες με τις εσωτερικές αυλές και τα κοινόχρηστα μπάνια. Η ζωή με το άγχος της τσιμπίδας του νόμου.

Τα πάντα λειτουργούν σαν σύμβολα για να τονίσουν αυτή τη δίψα για ελευθερία: ο τοίχος της φυλακής, ο σπασμένος αστράγαλος, το τσιγάρο που θα καπνίσεις ή δεν θα καπνίσεις, το ποτό, το φαγητό, η βόλτα, ο έρωτας, ο χρόνος. Όμως το μεγαλύτερο σύμβολο είναι η ίδια — και παραμένει και σήμερα, πενήντα χρόνια μετά: μισοπληγωμένη, θα φύγει και, μόνο όταν νιώσει πραγματικά δύναμη και ελευθερία, θα παραιτηθεί από την κατάκτησή της, προσφέροντάς την ως δώρο στον εραστή της.

[Vanessa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Astragal follows Anne, a 19 year old girl who escapes from prison by jumping a wall and ends up badly breaking her ankle as a result. The rest of the story follows her and Julian, the man who saves her from the roadside, as she travels around France trying to keep out of the clutches of the law, as well as the various people who put her up.

I honestly thought I would enjoy this more. It is very well-written, but almost too well-written for the simplicity of the story - at times I felt like Sarrazin was making much out of nothing. I didn't particularly enjoy being in Anne's head all the time. For a woman who struck me at times as being quite a strong character, at other times she really could be a bit of a lovesick teen. I know she was 19, but that seems a bit old for that.

It took me longer to read than I had previously imagined because instead of getting swept away in the story, I kept putting it down. I'm not going to say I didn't enjoy this book, because certain moments (and particularly the last couple of chapters) did capture me, and I found myself wanting to see how things would end up. But overall I just didn't think this was all that interesting, and it's a shame because I wanted to love Patti Smith's favourite book. The introduction by Smith herself is definitely worth a read though.

[Ariella · Rating 3 out of 5]

I came across this book after my sister saw it in a bookshop and showed me because the face on the cover looks like mine. The face is the author's and, truly, the lure of this book is the story of the women behind it--French-Algerian, abandoned, adopted, imprisoned. In the opening scene, Anne (Albertine Sarrazin's nickname) escapes from the window of a prison, fracturing the astragalus bone of her ankle when she jumps. Sarrazin's description of the pain and, indeed, all her descriptions, are intense and compelling. But, for me, the lure of the book also left it metaphorically and thematically unsatisfying. While Anne says she wants to be independent, she isn't never really free from the men who obsess her, save her, buy her. In reality, such freedom for Sarrazin may be difficult, even impossible, but in a narrative, semi-fictional form, I wanted it for Anne. Sarrazin's ending was certainly tragic; she died from a failed liver operation. Towards the end of the book, I felt she was holding back, which made her appear callous. The connection she'd established at the beginning was lost. But maybe she just doesn't feel the need to justify herself to anyone, even her readers, who she both courts and withdraws from. I wanted more from her, but maybe I don't have the right to ask.

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 3 out of 5]

A hyper-Gallic countercultural curio that never quite matches the hipness of the blurb (Godard namedropped), as the protagonist spends the first half recovering from a broken ankle. This hobbles the pace of the novel, which post-convalescence spirals into a giddy teenage melodrama with all the wince-inducing self-importance of one’s own personal teenage heartache in prose that unfortunately begins to take itself too seriously.

[endlessbookclub · Rating 3 out of 5]

well, that was depressing

[Hendrik · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ein Buch wie ein Film von François Truffaut. Patti Smith trifft es in ihrem Nachwort zu Albertine Sarrazin genau: "Sie hat einen unverwechselbaren, gehobenen Pokerface-Stil zwischen Poesie und Kriminalroman." Ohne viele Worte zu verlieren, ausgezeichnet.

[Sara Hughes · Rating 4 out of 5]

i enjoyed this a lot even though the writing itself was a bit messy and incoherent at times. this is a mostly true story about a woman who escapes from prison by jumping off a cliff and absolutely wrecking her one foot and then meeting the love of her life on the side of a road and living a life of crime together ♥️

[Hannah Young · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5✨
the prose throughout this novel was absolutely stunning. the heart ache for freedom, the enjoyment of the small things, the way love can overcome all senses and the endless feeling of being trapped in a world where you have no place. this book was sensational and patti smith’s essay nearly brought me to tears.

[Kate Kampner · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like yes she only talks about her foot but I actually really liked the writing

“Introductions. Cordiality, coffee, embraces. I discerned in the general good humor, a hint of relief: I was going to be taken care of, but I was also going to be somewhere else…”

[Clara · Rating 4 out of 5]

yet another piece of exquisite french sad girl fiction

[Inês Fraga · Rating 5 out of 5]

Livro absolutamente brilhante e incontornável, que, mais do que narrar a fuga da jovem Anne de um estabelecimento prisional e consequente fratura do astrágalo (um osso no pé que dá título a esta obra), mais do que narrar a história de amor que a unirá a Julien (homem que a encontra caída na estrada e a auxilia na evasão), mais do que narrar o submundo do crime por onde Anne vai pululando, serve de ponto de partida para uma reflexão acerca das prisões em que vivemos e de que nem sempre nos damos conta, a começar pelo corpo, um embrulho inútil, que não se pode reinventar para melhor servir as circunstâncias dos indivíduos.

Porém, prisões são também as casas que escolhemos, as relações a que nos entregamos, os conceitos que escolhemos como definidores e que nos condicionam.

Há em tudo uma prisão, aonde nos acolhemos, trancando nós por dentro o ferrolho, e que em simultâneo rejeitamos.

A verdade é que, mesmo que quiséssemos, não saberíamos viver sem margens, sem limites à liberdade. Por isso, precisamos de nos "prender, como um alfinete" em lugares onde nos imaginemos felizes.
Aconselho muito. ❤️

[Stacia · Rating 3 out of 5]

She has a very fresh, immediate voice in this book, a semi-autobiographical look at "Anne" who leaps from a third floor to escape prison, shatters her ankle, is randomly (& luckily) picked up by a minor crook (Julien) before her escape is discovered & wanders between hideouts, waiting, healing, & reverting back to her old life (yet at such a young age) of prostitution & thievery. There is freedom of spirit here, but also a lot of hiding, looking over her shoulder (not wanting to be caught), & waiting (sometimes too long) for erstwhile savior & lover Julien. Free & yet never really free.

A fascinating & fresh account from the '60s.