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First Blood: Last Tribute ★★★ ½

The new Nothomb has fallen – and not in battle. A 30e publication in 30 years, with an inexhaustible reservoir of inspiration and recognizable style, and above all a personal and family ladle. Because to better inform the reading of First blood, there is certainly the bedside lamp, but also the fact of knowing that it is a tribute to the late father of the author, who died in 2020, in whose skin she slips during these 170 pages.




Sylvain Sarrazin

Sylvain Sarrazin
Press

Patrick Nothomb tells us about a strange life, fatherless (died in the army), then sent to his paternal grandparents on vacation. There, he discovers Pierre Nothomb, a hard-hearted poet, and his family starved by an almost Darwinian rationing regime. Adult, married, he becomes consul and finds himself propelled to the Congo, before being entangled in a hostage-taking.

It is indeed the body of Patrick Nothomb which sails over the pages, but it is undoubtedly the eyes of his daughter which contemplate its vicissitudes; so much so that the reader occasionally forgets that a man is unfolding his story, rather perceiving the voice of Amélie behind the sympathetic father’s puppet. Precisely, thanks to her slightly crazy paw, she once again establishes this quirky atmosphere which crowns her with success. As always, it’s short, and some tantalizing characters are barely sketched (the multilingual energetic Hubert Durt), but having immortalized his father in this way, through the intermediary of his singular pen, conceals something poignant.

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