A narrative study of childhood told through a tonally neutral third-person description of scenes from the life of the same class--of about thirteen girls--in an elementary, then a convent school in a mountainous rural area of France. This is not specified, though it would square with Wittig's own childhood for it to be the Haut Alsace or Haut Saone (mentioned in the final section, when the focal character is old enough to travel to funerals and religious festivities). The only sentences with an 'I' as the subject are in the voice of the 'opoponax', a force, possibly malign and certainly uncanny, that can make itself felt but is not seen. The children play at pretending who this spirit is; it comes close to being the curse of exclusion or suspicion laid on the bookish or proto-gay.
Wittig's novel, which was a sensation in 1964 and for the few short years thereafter (debated, for instance, by Mary McCarthy) is both exactly what you would expect and impeccably, creatively executed; it borrows from the techniques of the nouveau roman and the critical decentring of subjectivity in favour of new ways of rendering intersubjective experience and the formation of subjects (as individuated, gendered, class- and place-specific, national). There is a point-of-view figure, Catherine Legrand; but though we're told about her experience, we only see her from outside. She has a younger sister and becomes heatedly close, approaching adolescence, to a boarder, Valerie Berge. After Valerie has been inexplicably away from school at the start of a new year, then returns, Catherine falls on her physically and the girls set to fighting. They read lines from poems they have inscribed in their exercise books.
Formally, the novel is set into long, unparagraphed sections, although within these there are distinct scenes, which end in mid-paragraph with an effect something like a 'jump cut' in Truffaut. There is a gap of something like a year between the sections; and the evolution of the language and activities described to a degree matches the girls' growing-up. The scenes are exemplary and narratively mostly inconsequential. The children split into armies and fight wars with each other, changing who is general, and pressing pebbles into mud-balls they lob at each other. They climb trees by the river and run over bridges of rocks. During Mass, they steal the missal of a girl who is devoutly praying, passing it between themselves, before one realises that the service is almost over, at which point she sets to her devotions with a show of hurry. All the adults are sisters, mostly obtuse and inadequate figures, sometimes embodiments of arbitrary authority. The mother superior faces down a school strike in which the class, aware that other schools have the day off, cry 'on s'emmerde ici' and march up and down the courtyard. A clear but not forced case is made that the girls are taken away from their own experience, and tacit knowledge, by formal schooling. In one geography lesson a new teacher asks the children for definitions of 'mountain' and 'valley'; they know, but their folk definitions get a 0 out of 10; they do not know that a riviere flows into a river and a fleuve into the sea.