Fiction Book Review: Ghost Light – Pierre Drieu La Rochelle
I had not heard of La Rochelle until I found myself on the Rogue Scholar Press bookstore looking to pick up a copy of Robinson Jeffers poetry. Of their other independently published titles this one jumped out to me, though I couldn’t tell you why exactly. Perhaps something about the title.
Ghost Light is a timeless novel. We all know the protagonist, Alain, we’ve met him many times in the course of our modern lives perhaps at different stages of his hopelessness. He is the timid boy afraid of life, he is the doped out former college friend, he is the incel of rage. His retreat from society today might not be in heroin or opium as Alain but perhaps pornography or through dabbing increasingly stronger amounts of cannabis. The end result is the same, a rejection of life, a disdain of the living.
La Rochelle writes so unflinchingly in this novel it is not hard to see he must have known many of these Alains in his life. He is perfectly capable of presenting himself as Alain and this negative world view one wonders if he himself almost fell to it. The novel is not long, it takes place over a short time span and is a meditation on the plight of the modern man who has succumbed to what is effectively modernity’s malaise.
Rogue Scholar’s introduction deserves a stand out mention. It serves well to set the novel up and frame it for its time, but even without it there are many moments in this book that will give a man time to pause and reflect. Literature at times has this strength of forcing us into uncomfortable places and truly it is uncomfortable for life lovers to see the world through Alain’s eyes. Yet because of the modern life we have lived and what some have endured we see glimpses of familiarity. That is the strength of the novel, all of us perhaps have come close to the edge of hopelessness that pervades this mans life. Many of us have friends we look upon with envy that we perhaps once masked as scorn of abandonment.
For me one of the tell tale signs of an engaging read is when I find myself stopping and looking for me phone. Drawn to capture words on the page to share with friends. There were plenty of moments in this short novel where I floundered about looking for that dratted piece of technology. A few standout passages really spoke to me of when I have been flummoxed by a friends inability to appreciate a sunset. La Rochelle is writing of Alain
he had never looked at the sky or the facades of houses or the wooden walkways, the pulsing things; he had never looked at a river or a forest; he lived in an empty room of morals: “The world is imperfect, the world is bad. I reprove, I condemn, I annihilate the world.”
The deconstruction of the modern, the resentment of the age, the inability for those to truly see what is in front of them and appreciate life is all captured here. In some ways this feels a deeply pagan book. La Rochelle immediately continues
His family believed he had subversive ideas. But he had no ideas, he was terribly lacking in them: his mind was a poor carcass scoured by the vultures that hover over the great hollow cities.
The EveryMan today is no different than Alain in these thoughts, in this reality. The difference is in the drugs they turn to and the sheer ideological poison they inject instead to try and provide meaning when they themselves are rejecting of life in all its unequal glory.
There is something about the French and their ability to portray the grim reality of life that rings true. In some ways I was reminded of Houellebecq reading this, though the two authors are separated by the gulf of time the inherent ‘Frenchness’ rings through. The last Houellebecq I read touched on similar themes, the death of France and the suicide of many. That suicidal theme is strongly present in La Rochelle’s work. Though I’m sure the man could never have imagined that those most embracing of suicide in the way of action he writes are in fact foreign Muslims rallying against his beloved country. Slaying his countrymen as they force themselves to action. Knowing that La Rochelle ultimately committed suicide himself in 1944 does add a sobering sense of foreshadowing to these passages.
This book is an important one, the translator has done a fantastic job. Elements of it will linger with you long after you put the book down. Considering it was written so long ago and how relevant it remains shows just how long this Kali Yuga is. The timelessness of struggle will always be present, those who embrace life and live it versus those who live in fear of it. Always waiting for something, always seeking an exit, unable to appreciate. In that strange way I find myself reminded of another French author, Camus. Camus would of course sit on the opposite side of the aisle from La Rochelle, yet his seminal book ‘The Outsider’ also engages with a man going through similar struggle. Where Camus comes out the otherside with what we call ‘absurdism’ La Rochelle offers another path. Yet where both come close is the importance of appreciation of life, to just enjoy the sun on ones face in the moment. Embracing the real and seeking higher meaning is eternal.
-Arthur Powell
By this book and others from Rogue Scholar Press here: https://shop.aer.io/roguescholar/cl/Rogue_Scholar_Press/219296
