La Clôture

by Jean Rolin

La même année que Napoléon Bonaparte naît dans une bourgade de la Sarre un enfant roux dont le père, tonnelier, a servi dans les armées de Frédéric II. À la faveur des guerres de la Révolution et de l'Empire, l'enfant roux – au départ, une sorte d'Allemand – est appelé à devenir l'un des plus illustres maréchaux de France, avant de mourir fusillé à l'angle des jardins de l'Observatoire. Entre-temps, il aura été vainqueur à la Moskova et sur quantité d'autres champs de bataille, héroïque lors de la retraite de Russie, indécis ou calamiteux dans d'autres circonstances, déloyal à l'empereur, traître à la monarchie restaurée, défait à Waterloo et indéfectiblement fidèle à quelque chose d'éclatant et d'obscur. Aujourd'hui, le boulevard qui lui est dédié relie la porte de Saint-Ouen à la porte d'Aubervilliers, à la limite de la ville et de ce qui l'entoure, à travers des quartiers qui ne comptent pas parmi les plus aérés de la capitale. D'autres destins s'y nouent – moins brillants, dans l'ensemble, que celui du maréchal Ney –, d'autres échecs s'y consomment. Celui de Gérard Cerbère, rescapé de nombreuses Bérézinas, désormais retranché avec sa caravane à l'intérieur d'un pilier soutenant le périphérique, celui de Lito, officier des forces armées zaïroises échoué au McDonald's de la porte de Clignancourt. Ou encore celui de Ginka Trifovna, originaire de Ruse, en Bulgarie, âgée de dix-neuf ans et assassinée dans la nuit du 21 au 22 novembre 1999 sur un talus de la rue de la Clôture.

Genres: France

256 pages, Paperback

First published December 31, 2001

About the author

Jean Rolin is a French writer and journalist known for his distinctive narrative style and profound exploration of sociopolitical issues. Born on June 14, 1949, in Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Rolin has had a career marked by an interplay between journalism and literature. His works often blend fiction and reportage, creating a unique hybrid that reflects his sharp observational skills and deep engagement with the world.

Rolin studied literature at the University of Paris but found himself drawn to the tumultuous political landscape of the 1960s. He became actively involved in leftist movements, an experience that later influenced his writing, particularly in his nuanced depictions of political and social dynamics.

His career as a journalist took him to various parts of the globe, including Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America. These experiences enriched his literary work, as he frequently draws upon his travels to craft vivid narratives. His writing captures not only the physical landscapes but also the complexities of human existence in these regions.

Rolin’s literary debut came in 1980 with "Journal de Gand aux Aléoutiennes, a work that set the tone for his blend of memoir, travelogue, and fiction. He has since published numerous books, including L'Explosion de la durite (1997), Le Ravissement de Britney Spears (2011), and Les Événements (2020). His works are characterized by an understated yet incisive humor, a keen eye for detail, and an ability to illuminate the absurdities of contemporary life.

In addition to his literary achievements, Rolin has been recognized with several awards, including the prestigious Prix Médicis in 1996 for L'Homme qui a vu l'ours and the Prix Ptolémée in 2014 for Ormuz.

Reviews

[Jean Ra · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mezcla entre mini-ensayo histórico y crónica periodística, si bien no alcanza las doscientas páginas y cuenta con una gran cantidad de capítulos breves, al final la digestión de este libro se hace un poco pesada. Es un buceo en los barrios de la afueras de París, los más feos de la ciudad, un verdadero repelente de interés turístico, centrándose en las zonas de las rondas periféricas, Clignancourt, la calle Cloture y el boulevar Ney.

La mera conexión nominal de dicho boulevard con el general napoleónico sirve de excusa para que Rolin establezca su estrategia literaria y comprima en unos pocos capítulos algunos capítulos sueltos y datos curiosos del susodicho mariscal Ney, uno de los generales de Napoleón, con su crónica de ese mundo. Rolin dibuja a Michel Ney como un tipo errático, primario, incluso infantil pero de gran coraje y valentía, llegando a cargar junto a sus hombres cuando hacía falta dar ejemplo para motivarlos o la situación era muy desesperada. De esa misma forma también explora esos paisajes de prostitutas, vagabundos y alcohólicos que viven en caravanas destartaladas y los observa sin condescendencia, retratándoles en su justa dimensión humana, a los que dentro de sus defectos también encuentra singularidades que les eleva por encima de lo convencional.

El problema es que alcanza un punto que a fuerza de amontonar diferentes incidentes de personajes como Gérard, insaciable bebedor de tintorro, a fuerza de sumar desgracias y más disgustos, el relato se vuelve errático y monótono, avanzas sin rumbo a la vista y encima el estilo de crónica periodística de Rolin no alcanza para sostener el interés, a pesar que me gusta ese compromiso en bucear en esos parajes y observar a sus personajes sin demasiados juicios (algunos comentarios sí caer Rolin). Seguro que, a poco que os esforcéis, encontráis lecturas más interesantes que este La cerca, que no me parece obligatorio tenerla cerca.

[Luis Alv · Rating 1 out of 5]

Este libro es un buen retrato de la superficie, muy poco en cuanto a la profundidad, del suburbio parisiense.

Para ser honesto, cumple la función de una fotografía que sólo busca mostrar cualidades estéticas y no profundas. Se siente escueto, sin forma, que sólo busca mostrar visualmente (no digo esencialmente porque de esencia hay realmente poco) el suburbio.

No hallé las conexiones y máscosas entre el Mariscal Ney y la narración del suburbio, que la hay, pero realmente ambas historias están tan al margen que la conexión se diluye.

[Edwin Rodriguez · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you are interested in Paris, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, this work of literary journalism provides a haunting picture of an area that was once a kind of wasteland. At the time covered in the book, approximately 1999-2001, this area of northeast Paris, just inside the Peripherique highway that marks the boundary between city and non-city (surburb is really not accurate for the area), was largely occupied by warehouses, garages, railway lines, highways, vacant lots, and immigrant processing centers. The author focuses on the people who frequent the area, the down and out, in particular prostitutes, immigrants, and especially a group of homeless men who live in vans under the highways. If not for its depiction of the homeless in particular (Gerard, Robert, Roger, Daniel), and immigrants to a lesser extent (Lito), the book would have very little focus. Although the author mentions the terrible murder of Ginka Trifanova in the area in November 1999, which caused a scandal which still reverberates today, he merely recognizes the presence of prostitutes, without delving into the issue of prostitution in any depth. He attempts to frame the book within the story of Michel Ney, one of Napoleon's commanders, who was executed when the Bourbon monarchy was restored, but except for the fact that a major boulevard in the area is named for him, there is oddly no connection between Ney's history and the people who live in or frequent the area. Although the author comes close to a kind of slum tourism/voyeurism, the book is an interesting contribution to a kind of urban geography/anthropology of the landscape and people of Paris.

[Pierce Lockett · Rating 4 out of 5]

took me insanely long to actually finish this book for no good reason - initially a little “à distance” with regard to how it is the novel frames its subjects, and there’s a reaosnable critique of the novel’s flippant to possibly problematic relationship to the marginal characters to be had. but it’s a careful, sober novel, one that tries to situate a sort of anthropological view of paris’ peripheries and the many people that inhabit it alongside a curious mise en abîme of the historical narrative of marechal ney, a napoleonic-era bellicose freak, and military genius, whose name appears on a boulevard separating parts of these peripheral neighborhoods. this relationship becomes more developed throughout the novel, which seems to suggest that Rolin wants to put these sordid historical traces together, creating a sort of palimpsest of france’s failed and eccentric denizens in real time. not bad! wouldn’t have read it if my grad advisor didn’t suggest i give it a try lol

[Carlos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un muy eficiente, sin ser sobresaliente, retrato de algunos barrios marginales parisinos, encuadrados en la vía que lleva por nombre el de un mariscal napoleónico, Michel Ney (de quien, entrelazando fragmentos, nos va contando el autor vida y obra, ambas rayanas en lo ditirámbico y en lo sensiblero, aunque termina siendo interesante conocer la historia de uno de los principales testigos de la mítica batalla de Waterloo), y la calle Cloture (como se titula el relato/reportaje en el original, y que puede significar tanto “la cerca” como “la clausura”).
Prostitutas, inmigrantes, okupas, vagabundos son la pléyade de variopintos personajes a quienes Rolin da voz en estas páginas.
Una historia que merecía ser contada... aunque no sé si daba tanto para un libro; quizá el mero reportaje hubiera bastado.

[Guillaume Frasca · Rating 3 out of 5]

Étrange livre qui entrecoupe un récit du maréchal d’Empire Ney, qui a donné son nom à l’un des boulevards qui entourent Paris, et un recueil de scènes de la vie quotidienne des habitants de cet entre-deux qui sépare Paris de sa banlieue. De courts chapitres forment autant de vignettes impressionnistes d’un monde en marge.

[Stefano Franke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excelente narración mezclando la crónica con la historia donde el punto de encuentro es el nombre de un mariscal de napoleón Bonaparte que a su vez fue bautizada un avenidas en los suburbios de paris donde los outsiders hacen vida, se aman y se largan.

[Kitty Red-Eye · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not at all bad, but very distant, a bit like in a dream you only half-remember when you wake up. The outskirts of Paris, a study, more or less, in urban decay: thieves and whores and immigrants and drunkards and drug pushers, a bit like a sailor novel, just set in Paris 2000 instead of Marseilles, Shanghai, Amsterdam or any of the sort anytime between the industrial revolution and dunno, 1980.

The author does not try to drown you nor himself in sentimentality, for which I'm grateful, but the constant presence of prostitutes of various nationality is a bit tedious, like one of the slower scenes from Game of Thrones (the tv series): They set it in a brothel and thus hope it'll get more interesting, somehow. I don't doubt they're omnipresent, though.

His descriptions of the Trotskyist meeting and of the children's art project are my personal favourites.

[Laurent Ruyt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pas le meilleur, un peu inachevé