Overview
In this second volume of his acclaimed four-volume autobiography, Rules of the Game--now available for the first time in English--Leiris comes to terms with self-reflection as disillusionment. In the midst of doubts about his own motives in writing an autobiography, he recalls that life, after all, has delights worth remembering: sights at the end of the world and the beginning of time, palm trees, breadfruit trees, colossal ferns. But even these things surrounded people living in miserable conditions. What could be said of human life, or of his own life, when his memory was unreliable, his eyesight failing, his mood in the bottom of a hole?
Synopsis
In this second volume of his acclaimed four-volume autobiography, Rules of the Game--now available for the first time in English--Leiris comes to terms with self-reflection as disillusionment. In the midst of doubts about his own motives in writing an autobiography, he recalls that life, after all, has delights worth remembering: sights at the end of the world and the beginning of time, palm trees, breadfruit trees, colossal ferns. But even these things surrounded people living in miserable conditions. What could be said of human life, or of his own life, when his memory was unreliable, his eyesight failing, his mood in the bottom of a hole?
Library Journal
Eminent anthropologist, poet, essayist, art critic, and curator of the Muse de l'Homme in Paris, Leiris (1901-1990) is among this century's most versatile French intellectuals. His monumental four-volume autobiography, Rules of the Game (La Regle du jeu, French & European Pub., 1991), which took 35 years to complete, reflects that rich background. Scraps is the second installment, following Scratches (1991). Ethnological topics that relate to the author's obsessions permeate the three chapters of this volume. In Scraps, it seems he undertook his study of others parallel to studying himself. Whether rendering his souvenirs of interesting people and events in Algeria or the West Indies, Leiris's work is a true exploration and critique of the human condition, with a significant surrealist twist. Davis's fine translation reveals an intimate, honest, and, at times, self-condemnatory work that often reads like a novel. Recommended for academic libraries and comprehensive literary collections.Ali Houissa, Cornell Univ., Ithaca, N.Y.