Atmospheres Apollinaire

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

French first novelist Belloc, writing a curt minimalist prose, pulls the reader fast into the callous Parisian working-class world of his protagonist, Denis, who at 11 hangs around public urinals to trade sex with men. Denis cannot forgive his father, an amateur boxer, for dying and deserting him in infancy; his mother, referred to as ``she,'' likes to park Denis and his brother, Alain, at a children's farm for the summer. Unsurprisingly, Denis is pervaded by a sense of ``absence.'' When his mother marries a coarse tough called the Spaniard, Denis and his stepfather come to blows. Denis and Alain, often in trouble and in jail, resign themselves to petty crime and brutality. Denis welcomes his role as a male prostitute, cruising the seedy, neon-lit boulevards. Denis's random affairs and growing emotional numbness are convincingly portrayed, as is his short-lived attachment to Gloria, a ``hormone-fed'' drag queen who consoles him with mothering and lullabyes. Less believable are Denis's uncaring real mother's characterization as a painter and her encouragement of his creativity with gifts of art supplies. Episodic in structure, the novella takes Denis abroad with a new patron, Nono the Greek. Apparently at a loss for an ending, the author concludes in scattershot style. Despite its flaws, Neons resonates with an authenticity that is raucous, sad and racy. (May)

Library Journal

This book is not for the fainthearted. Set in a squalid area of Paris, incisive as a surgeon's knife in its narrative, laconic yet strident in its sordid vocabulary, it is the story of Denis, as told in short, first-person flashbacks cold as the light of neons. He is scalded (accidentally?) when a baby; savagely beaten by a stepfather; turned homosexual at age 12; imprisoned for burglary at 13; a prostitute in a world of ex-cons, transvestites, and ``johns'' by the age of 18; afflicted by syphillis and totally wasted, almost comatose at 20. His talent for painting and a tough inner self seem to prevail at the end, offering a glint of hope. Rodarmor's tense, colloquial translation retains the eloquence of the underlying social analysis of a savage world that raises this book above simple ``hard-core porn.'' Praised by Marguerite Duras and others when it first appeared in 1987 (it was Belloc's first novel), this is not a pretty story. It is instead a social statement that is vivid and unforgettable.-- Danielle Mihram, Univ. of South ern California Lib., Los Angeles