The Politics of FREE: Fear, Loathing and “Drive-by Disses” in the Land of Book Freebies

So, the first months of 2012 have pretty much been Eight Straight Weeks of FREE for me. Medallion started things off with two flippin’ weeks of offering Zombies Don’t Cry for FREE on Kindle and Nook!

Then Decadent rocked five whole days of FREE for both Ushers, Inc. and Panty Raid at Zombie High. THEN Medallion kicked off my new YA release by offering Vamplayers FREE for another two weeks. It has been an amazing, crazy, high, low, rewarding, disappointing, challenging, and all kinds of educational ride.

I’m not exactly unacquainted with the politics of FREE. From the minute I heard that Zombies Don’t Cry would be published early last year, I started writing, polishing and publishing FREE stories and poems about the living dead. Mostly they were promotional, but also a chance to try new things outside of the world I created for ZDC. Some were funny, some were sad, some were scarier than others but all had one thing in common: they were FREE.

Then I found out Vamplayers would get published, so I started doing the same for vampires: lots of short, sweet, some funny, some scary – all FREE – vampire poems and short stories.

They got some decent play on Scribd.com and Smashwords, where the reviews were mostly 4-stars; a few 3-stars, one or two 5-stars. Not too shabby.

But Scrid.com and Smashwords are one thing; Amazon, BN.com and Goodreads are another. To be FREE on Amazon.com for one week, let alone two weeks, is to ride a roller coaster of emotions. You’re up, you’re down, you’re checking your numbers, trying to get to #1 on the FREE Kindle list, settling for #12 or #23 or however high – or low – you land.

You see your book suddenly listed on all these Freebie sites, which seem to exist JUST to list… freebies. It’s awesome and a little scary all at once. Then your book starts showing up in a lot of bloggers’ “In My Mailbox” features, naturally, because it’s a freebie so if they haven’t gotten it from your publisher, or you, here is a chance to snag it for their TBR pile; it’s all good.

But there’s something a little strange about the freebie mentality as well. I mean, if your book costs something, even 99-cents, it tends to weed out the freebie book hoarders. Or at least, give people who aren’t YA, who don’t dig zombies or vampires, pause. Things are more targeted when there is a cost involved, I think; people will think twice before buying a book, but when it’s a freebie it’s almost like they’ll just grab anything.

We’ve all been there; why not? I have a ton of freebies in my Kindle for PC library, half of which – let’s face it, most of which – I’ll never read. But there’s a freedom to all this freeness; it gives random people cause not only to notice you – although they don’t really seem to care about you – and your book (ditto) and as such they almost feel empowered, even obliged, to comment.

I’ll never forget reading the comments on the Barnes & Noble blog the day Zombies Don’t Cry was featured as their Friday Freebie. One guy said “not even for free.” I knew exactly what he meant; you do, too. He meant, “I wouldn’t read this book even if you gave it to me.”

Others chimed in, with a pack mentality, dogging the title, the book, the genre and, by association, the author. You could kind of see them feeding on each other; once somebody said something nasty, everyone else was “free” to chime in and add insult to injury as well. It stung, for sure.

You think after the book’s been out for almost a year, you’d have a thick skin; not so much. And then, after a few days of it being free and adding to people’s “to-read” list, the reviews start coming in on Goodreads. And that’s where the real ugly started!

Man, it was like an avalanche of ick. Within a week, maybe even less, Zombies Don’t Cry went from a solid 4-plus star rating to an ugly 3.7 something; and it’s still creeping down.

Every day is like a death watch; you think it’s holding steady, you think it’s bottomed out, and then some wise guy comes along and gives it a 1-star; no profile picture, no review, no comments, just a quick double-click and, bam, down the rating goes some more. I call them “drive-by disses,” ‘cause that’s what they seem to do. You can click on their profile and see they do that to a lot of other authors well. Which makes you feel a little better, but not much.

I get it, Zombies Don’t Cry isn’t War & Peace, it may not even be Rot & Ruin, but… 1-star? Really? In my world, I guess, I check out of a one-star leaning book and quit reading before I review it. Heck, I can’t even remember reading a book so bad I’d give it 1-star.

It’s more than sour grapes (although I suppose it’s that, too); it’s a commentary on the ugliness, the pettiness and, yes, the politics that makes social media, publishing and promoting YA such frickin’ WORK these days. It’s not bad enough you have to constantly edit your actual book, now I have to edit myself so I don’t go off on every ungrateful, thoughtless freebie-addicted so and so for trashing my book(s) every chance they get!

On the flip side, freebies are great for actual YA, zombie or genre fans who may not have had the chance to pick up your book before. I see lots more “likes” on my Facebook page by random users who I can tell probably just ran across me from the freebies, and their enthusiasm and support is really positive and uplifting. And it’s an awesome chance to reach out to readers who may have never heard of you before, and maybe find a new “fan” or two.

I see lots and lots of reviews starting out with, “I would never have picked this book up if it wasn’t free” or “I’ve never really been a big fan of zombies before, but I saw this on Kindle for free and…” That’s nice. It’s like using a hashtag that gets you in front of a lot of eyeballs who wouldn’t normally find you via #zombies or #amwriting or #yalit, you know?

So, what am I saying? That I only like the reviews that are “nice” to me? That I only appreciate readers who “get it”? That I only like to be in rooms where I’m welcome? Not at all; I get that Zombies Don’t Cry, Ushers, Inc., Panty Raid and Vamplayers aren’t for everybody. I get they’re not all five-star books. I get that some folks don’t dig active voice, first person POV or, for that matter, snark.

So, I dunno. I have absolutely NO regrets. I think both the publishers and myself learned a LOT about the “politics of FREE” from these exercises. I could write a whole book on the experience, and maybe for those of you who’ve read this whole piece it feels like I already have, but in summary: giving your book away for FREE is pretty much part of the new social media PR routine.

Lots of readers will expect it, but even more, so should you. It’s good, it’s mostly good; I feel mostly good about it. I was just unprepared, I think, for the ugliness, pettiness and politics of certain camps who have grown up to expect, demand and then turn around and kind of spit on authors who offer their books for free.

It’s so easy these days to be random, to be ugly and a little petty. I get it; it’s the internet. And I don’t want to just be isolated, or even insulated, in a little bubble where I only get friendly reviews from friendly reviewers and think I’m a better writer than I really am; I’m not sure that’s a good recipe for growth.

But I’m not sure a lot of these freebie reviews are good for growth, either. They’re not constructive, they’re not concerned, they’re not targeted and, like I said, they’re mostly random. Non-zombie people, non-vamp people, non-YA people and, in many cases, non-book people, I think. By that I mean, folks who have a Kindle or a Nook but may not necessarily have a love of the written word, or books, or YA or especially authors.

So, yeah, I’m bummed; more so than I thought I was when sitting down to write this post. And maybe I sound petty and a little bitter and, yeah, I’m probably both of these things, too!

What I feel like, mostly, is a piece of meat. Like I had one too many beers and entered a wet T-shirt contest and walked offstage to see a bunch of downturned thumbs and hastily scribbled “3’s” and “4’s” on those scorecards as people “booed” me back to my chair. “Sit down, clown; your zombies suck!”

So I hope your experience with FREE is a little, okay a LOT, better than mine; as a reader, finding books and/or as an author, offering books. Why did I write this post? I suppose, in the end, I know most/every author will have to offer their book for FREE at some point. Now, hopefully, you know what to expect…

Yours in YA,

Rusty

Why I Stopped Buying Popcorn: An Ode to Indie Authors

Anyone who follows this blog knows I watch a lot of movies. Heck, anyone who’s ever read any of my books knows I watch a lot of movies! From Ushers, Inc. to Double Feature of the Living Dead, half my titles have to do with the movies.

I say all that to say this: I eat a LOT of movie popcorn. I can only imagine how many bags of popcorn I’ve inhaled since I began attending movies regularly at the ripe old age of, say, thirteen?

Thirty-plus years of gorging myself twice a week? Holy cripes, my arteries must look like the inside of some ancient cave, with stalactites and stalagmites full of FAT pinching off my blood flow by the hour! Gawd, I'm getting short of breath just thinking about it! (And don’t even get me started on the damage done by my Little Debbie addiction; that’s a whole other blog post and/or medical file.)

But I’m also addicted to something else: independent authors. I’ve met so many of them during my travels from Twitter to Amazon, from Facebook to Goodreads and back again. From Trisha Wolfe to Tori Scott, from M. R. Merrick to William Van Winkle, from Deb Ryan to Ciar Cullen and SO many more I could list.

And oftentimes I’ll see them with a new book release, and think – usually on my way to another new movie – “I should buy that!” But I’m already out the door, and then I forget, and then another week goes by and I see another five-star review or cover reveal or guest post or giveaway and I think, again, “I should buy that book, but… the movies call, and I want to make sure I have that extra five bucks for my buttery, salty, oily addiction.”

But I was thinking the other day, as I just blindly ordered my usual – small popcorn (hey, at least I order the small), small Coke Zero (see there) and a bag of Twizzlers (not too bad) – and then got ready to pay, “Dang, if I just got rid of one of these items each week, I could buy a LOT more indie YA books!”

So I did; I got rid of one of those items – popcorn. Okay, not that time because I’d already ordered it, but the next time. Okay, okay, I actually haven’t done it yet, but that’s only because I’ve been down with my annual pre-spring sinus infection so haven’t seen a movie yet.

But I know, I KNOW when I finally do feel well enough to go and see Ghost Rider 2 (don’t judge) that I’ll be strong enough, and smart enough, to say, “Bring on the soda and licorice, but hold the popcorn… I’ve got an indie book to buy when I get home.”

Okay, so I probably won’t say that last part because there will no doubt be a line and no one listens to me in real life anyway, but I’ll think it. And I’ve already started! Here are some awesome (reviews coming soon!) YA indie books I’ve purchased since I’ve started my movie popcorn embargo:




Destiny’s Fire by Trisha Wolfe

 



 
Doc, the Vampire-Hunting Dog by J. A. Campbell


Think about it: at my movie theater, a small bag of popcorn costs five bucks. Most of the indie books I buy are far less than that. Some are 99 cent EBooks, some are $1.99, or $2.99, but even if they’re $5.99 or only out in print for ten or twelve bucks, what’s more important: doing another indie author a solid and buying their book, or clogging my arteries with another bag of movie popcorn?

Thoughts, comments, corrections, suggestions, grievances? The comment boxes are open, 24/7/365…

Yours in YA,

Rusty

When Did People Stop Writing Books?

This isn’t a blog post so much as a really long thought! It’s not even a rant or an opinion and I’m genuinely interested in an answer to the following question: “When did people stop writing books?” (You know, single title, stand-alone books.)

It just seems like every book I see nowadays is part of a series of books, and that they start that way from Book 1. I’ve seen several awesome blogger friends get book deals recently and they all seem to be for series, with books 1 and 2 already completed.

I’m between books right now – I mean, writing them – so I went into the bookstore the other day to stock up on YA to feed my brain and check some trends and just get my general YA on and it was just walls of series everywhere I looked. Yes, certainly, I could *find* single, stand alone titles but few were faced out and not that many were getting “heat,” if you know what I mean.

And I can’t prove it scientifically, even statistically, but there was just this wall of books and they were all part of the This series or That series and the covers all matched up and even if it wasn’t from a “famous” series like Cirque Le Freak or Morganville Vampires or Vampire Diaries or whatever, it was Book 3 or Book 7.

Don’t get me wrong; I LOVE a good series. It was an awesome experience watching Harry and Hermione and Ron grow and evolve throughout the Harry Potter series, and I’m currently hooked – I mean, HUH-OOOKED!!! – on the Hunger Games series right now and eager to see where that takes me.

And who am I to talk? I have sequels to two of my books in the works right now, so I guess that qualifies them as a “series,” but it makes me a little sad for the single-title, one-off books because it seems much harder to bring them to anybody’s attention if they’re not “Book 1” or “Book 2” of the So and So Series.

Still, I really enjoyed writing them and think, in their self-contained worlds, they’re really good. Then again, I’m enjoying the opportunity of seeing what’s in store for Maddy, Dane and Stamp as I wrap up the sequel to Zombies Don’t Cry.

And I can absolutely see the allure of extending their story, taking them different places, even “growing up” with them as they experience and learn new things and even change and evolve in this next book and, hopefully, beyond.

But I dunno. It just hit me all of a sudden as I stared at those bookstore shelves how many, many series there are and it made me wonder, “Where did all the books go?”

Again, know this: I LOVE SERIES! I LOVE SERIES AUTHORS! This is not a dig, a rant or a “ding” against series and their authors. I get it; really, I do. It’s just a comment on a trend that seems to be getting stronger, not weaker, and wondering what you all think about it well.

Comment boxes are open; I hope you see fit to fill them!!!

Yours in YA,

Rusty

Are You A Goodwill Ambassador for Your Book?

It’s hard to hate an Adam Sandler movie. (You can argue, lately, that it’s even harder to “like” an Adam Sandler movie, but that’s another post for another time!) The fact is, Adam Sandler is just one of those people who is inherently “likeable.”

And whether his movies are good or bad, they are certainly energetic. Everyone involved seems to be trying really, really hard to have a good time, or make us have a good time, and generally that pays off to some degree.

I may not see every Adam Sandler movie, but the ones I’ve seen I’ve enjoyed and I can’t say that about every star. And the reason I think I’ve enjoyed so many of his movies so consistently is because, as an actor, writer, director, producer, celebrity, personality, whatever, Sandler brings with him a boat load of something you can’t really buy, fake or learn: good, old-fashioned goodwill.

Goodwill is hard to define, but easy to spot; you’ll know it when you feel it. I see a lot of movies and, standing in line, waiting to buy a ticket, I love to hear random people make their movie-making decisions.

Me? I always pretty much know what I’m going to see before I even start the car, but so many people make up their mind based on a title, a star, a director, a topic, whatever, as they’re standing there in line waiting to buy a ticket.

I’ll never forget the time I was in a ticket line behind these two burly guys and they were talking about how Steven Segal’s relationship with his ex-wife really “tore him up.” They were clearly fans, and in many ways I think their feeling of goodwill toward Segal was driving them to buy a ticket to his movie.

Goodwill matters, and you can’t underestimate goodwill when it comes to how readers choose, rate and even review your book. Or how, on the flip side, a lack of goodwill can derail an otherwise promising book, series or even career. (Admit it: aren’t there books you haven’t read simply because their author turned you off?)

So if your goal this year is to get better reviews for your book(s), here are some ways I’ve found to generate some unconscious, but invaluable goodwill before a reader ever picks one up:

 • Be nice: Straight up, no doubt about it, it’s pretty hard to generate goodwill if you’re not nice. You have to be nice; online, offline, in person, typing at the keyboard, on Goodreads, on your blog, on other people’s blogs, wherever, whenever, just… be nice. I’m not talking about fake nice, either, which is always fairly easy to spot. I’m talking about being genuinely, sincerely nice. Nice starts with an attitude of gratitude. If you’re an author, it’s hard not to be grateful. Come on! Someone’s paying us, at least a little, to do something we love? How can you *not* be grateful for that. Sure, it’s work but for me it’s easy to be nice to folks who ask for a review copy, or an interview or a guest post or simply a writing question. Why? Because that’s nice!

 
• Be generous: Give people stuff. If not FREE books, then your time. If not your time, then your stories. If not your stories, then your poems. If not your poems, then your articles. One of my earliest ways to promote Zombies Don’t Cry was to write a lot of FREE zombie content; holiday zombie poems, non-holiday zombie stories, etc. At first I did it because I thought/assumed people would share and link to them and it would help “brand” me as a YA zombie writer. But I think more than anything it helped a limited amount of YA readers recognize me as a decent guy who wasn’t afraid to give a little to get a little. I can tell you quite honestly that lots of my readers start with the free content and, if they like it at all, “graduate” to actually spending money on one of my books. I have to believe, or at least hope, that goodwill extends to them eventually writing a review as well.

 
• Be professional: If you commit to sending a reviewer a copy of your book, do so in a timely manner. If you agree to write a guest post by a certain date, do so – and preferably before that date. By now I’ve been on enough author panels, joint signings, forums and such to have watched dozens of other YA authors in action and it’s always amazing when I see the (rare) writer who expects so much and gives so little. I know the bigger the author the less time they have, but growing up I was always taught you’re never too busy to be polite – or professional.

 
• Be consistent: One challenge I’m facing as the novelty of being a “debut” YA novelist wears off is keeping up the same level of promotional energy I expended on Zombies Don’t Cry for other, subsequent books. It’s work, and lots of it, but I believe that what I did to promote ZDC worked, for the most part, and want to be consistent in how much I promote each subsequent book. One thing I see a lot of, particularly with EBooks, is authors who go big once and then kind of coast and expect the same results – and then get disappointed when they don’t. Goodwill is like a campfire; you have to keep stoking it or eventually it will go out and leave you, and your readers, in the dark!

 
• Be yourself: Finally, be yourself. The fact is, you can’t fake goodwill. If you’re generally a grumpy, unpleasant, divisive rascal, well, you are what you are. Following so many YA writers the way I do, I can tell you from personal experience that there are some real pieces of work out there. But hey, it works – or doesn’t work – for them. Some authors rise above goodwill to just be so flat-out awesome they’re review proof. I don’t necessarily have that talent, so I supplant what talent I do have with as much goodwill as I can muster. And, hey, that works for me!


Lots of things about book promotion, publishing and particularly getting reviews can be challenging. For me, establishing a sense of goodwill between you and the reviewer – even a random one – shouldn’t be one of them!


Yours in YA,
 
Rusty

Pennac était un cancre

Chagrin d’école, Daniel Pennac   

Où l’on apprend que le célèbre Daniel Pennac était un cancre.

     D’après le dictionnaire, le cancre désigne l’élève paresseux et mauvais. Étymologiquement ça vient de crabe ; et dans la nature, le crabe est l’animal qui marche à l’envers ou de côté. Le cancre est donc celui qui regimbe, qui marche à reculons des conventions, qui refuse de se fondre dans la masse. Bref, le mauvais élève. Pennac était donc un mauvais élève. Et pourtant, dès le début de son autobiographie, on comprend qu’il a réussi ; très bien réussi même, au point de passer à la télé. La mise en abyme est complète, le caractère fictif aussi : on est dans la mise en scène de soi, pure et simple.
     Pourtant sa mère a du mal à y croire, à ce succès. Pour elle, Daniel reste le mauvais élève, celui qui échoue, oublie tout,  a du mal. Le cancre de service. Même s’il a réussi, elle se demande ce qu’elle va faire de lui.

     Dans cette autobiographie en forme de vademecum à destination des enseignants, Pennac nous fait part de ce passé de mauvais élève qui l’a finalement mené jusqu’à l’agrégation, à l’écriture et plus tard aux plateaux télé. Mis en pension dès la cinquième, le jeune homme va être « sauvé » par quatre professeurs. Comme quoi les profs ne sont pas tous des tortionnaires.
     Ce roman-autobiographie-essai-confession fait la part belle aux enseignants, en mettant en scène un cancre qui a réussi (donc tous les élèves peuvent devenir quelque chose, même si on leur assène des "mais qu’est-ce qu’on va faire de toi" à longueur de journée). Un cancre qui a réussi et qui est même devenu un super prof, qui rend les élèves les plus rétifs champions d’orthographe, et les poissons rouges bibles de textes littéraires. Avec lui on apprend des passages de Tolstoï et Proust par cœur, et quand on est en cinquième, on corrige les dissert’ des lycéens. C’est bien beau tout ça, merveilleux, idéal, tout ce qu’on veut. Un super prof vous dis-je. Mais si on n’a pas été cancre avant, est-ce qu’on peut devenir aussi bon ? C'est ce qu'on peut se demander.
    Certes cela donne espoir quant au métier, on se dit qu’on peut toujours réussir à les faire avancer ces élèves plus ou moins intéressés, qu’ils peuvent progresser grâce à nous, comprendre ce que recèlent les pronoms adverbiaux y et en (j’y arriverai jamais, j’en ai marre, et autres tournures fort optimistes) ou encore se souvenir des passages célèbres de Madame Bovary parce que le super prof les leur aura faits apprendre par cœur. Pourtant je reste dubitative et circonspecte et tout ce que vous voulez face à cette réussite professorale quasi exemplaire. Je me demande comment, avec tout ça, il parvient à boucler le programme…

     Ce livre n’en reste pas moins une mine d’exemples et de réflexions pour tout professeur qui se respecte, et la confession de l’ancien cancre est menée de telle sorte que forcément, on adhère. Les élèves sont stéréotypés, mais en même temps dans une classe il y a toujours au moins un cancre, un caïd, le bon élève, la jolie fille et les autres. Les activités sont à la limite de l’extraordinaire, mais l’idée du plus peut permettre de réaliser le moins. Les idées vont à fond dans le sens des pédagogues, mais cela permet d’illustrer les thèses du clan adverse des intellectuels. Bref, c’est un livre qui donne des idées, plein d’idées. En plus de cela il est plaisant à lire, sauf au bout de 200 pages environ, moment au bout duquel j’ai commencé à en avoir marre et à lire en diagonal. Les réflexions sur l’école actuelle, la société et le reste m’agaçaient un peu. Toutefois je pense que je m’y replongerai un jour. C’est peut-être un peu un évangile pour les profs ce prix Renaudot 2007…

Incroyable extrêmement

Extrêmement fort et incroyablement près, Jonathan Safran Foer

   Que penser d’Oskar, cet enfant précoce, loufoque, qui invente tout le temps, et qui est obsédé par une chose : retrouver la serrure à laquelle correspond la clé qu’il a trouvée par hasard dans la chambre de son père. Ce père qui est mort dans l’attentat du World Trade Center. Que penser de ce gamin bizarre ?
   C’est un peu ce qu’on se dit quand on commence la lecture d’Extrêmement fort et incroyablement près. Déjà on s’est dit que le titre était incroyablement long. Ensuite, qu’il était extrêmement bizarre, et troublant.
   Troublant parce que c’est un roman polyphonique. On entend tour à tour Oskar, son grand-père qu’on ne connaît pas et qu’il ne connaît pas, et sa grand-mère, à côté de laquelle il vit. On ne comprend pas tout. On saisit surtout qu’Oskar comprend plein de choses qui nous échappent, et utilise deux cent fois par jours les adverbes extrêmement et incroyablement. Mais de moins en moins au fil de pages. Comme si sa voix se perdait ; comme si sa naïveté originelle s’en allait. Dans sa quête du souvenir de son père, de la manière dont il est mort, de la serrure qui enferme les réponses que la clé peut ouvrir, Oskar se laisse porter. Au fil des rencontres il y voit plus clair parfois, plus sombre parfois. Il grandit en tout cas.

   Roman d’apprentissage, si l’on veut. Roman de la filiation oui. Roman de la parole aussi. Le grand-père d'Oskar l’a perdue cette parole ; parce que la Seconde Guerre Mondiale a ses évènements traumatisants. Alors pour s’exprimer, il utilise ses mains ; pas le langage des signes ; juste les paumes de ses mains. Là où sont tatoué les mots OUI et NON. Oui et non pour vivre, dire sa peur et son amour. Pour le reste il a ses cahiers. Ses cahiers où il écrit qu'il ne peut dire, qu'il est désolé, et enfin ce qu'il ne peut dire. Et quand il n’a pas de cahier il écrit sur les murs. Sur le corps de sa femme aussi. Sur tout ce qui peut supporter des mots.
   Les mots sont parfois durs à entendre, à accepter. Ces derniers mots que le papa d’Oskar a laissés sur son répondeur sont les derniers liens qui le relient à lui ; les seuls indices qui contiennent peut-être la réponse à cette grande question : comment papa est-il mort.
   Des thèmes durs, délicats, mais traités avec brio. Un roman construit et artistique, une œuvre multiple, un patchwork d’inventivité et de sentiments. Ce n’est pas niais, loin de là. Malgré le style enfantin de l’ensemble, tout est très profond. On est ému, on réfléchi, on rit et on peut pleurer. Un roman incroyablement grand, que j’ai extrêmement aimé. 

L'empreinte de l'ange

L’empreinte de l’ange, Nancy Huston

Second livre de Nancy Huston qui me tombe sous la main et un univers totalement inattendu. Avec Dolce Agonia on nous a emmenés aux Etats-Unis fêter Thanksgiving ; dans L’Empreinte de l’ange c’est la France d’après-guerre qui sert de théâtre à l’histoire.
Rapahël, éminent joueur de flûte, a publié une annonce dans un journal : il recherche une bonne. Le roman commence in medias res, avec l’arrivée d’une candidate potentielle. Mais de potentielle cette dernière passera rapidement à recrutée, tout simplement parce que le musicien va en tomber amoureux.
S’ensuit une idylle à sens unique. Raphaël s’abyme d’amour pour Saffie (prononcer Zzzaffie), alors même que cette dernière reste froide et muette. Ce mutisme qui avait tant séduit le musicien finit par lui peser et lui poser question. Il pense que le mariage pourrait changer quelque chose à l’attitude de Saffie. Il l’épouse donc trois semaines après l’avoir rencontrée. Un mariage qui ne modifie pas leurs relations, loin s’en faut. Quelques temps après, Saffie tombe enceinte ; ultime espoir pour son mari de la voir changer. Mais rien n’y fait, la jeune femme reste le bloc de marbre qu’il a toujours connu. Ne parlant pas plus qu’il ne faut, s’occupant de son enfant comme d’un paquet qui mange et dort. L’existence du jeune couple et de sa progéniture - progéniture unique d’ailleurs puisque l’accouchement a occasionné la perte de ses organes génitaux internes- n’est pas promise à un avenir des plus joyeux…
…jusqu’au jour où Raphaël envoie sa femme auprès du célèbre spécialiste de la réparation des instruments à vent. Second coup de foudre du roman, mais cette fois réciproque. Les deux amants s’aiment après s’être à peine parlé ; et chaque fois que son époux part en tournée, Saffie se rend chez son amant.
Malgré le caractère magique et idyllique de la rencontre, tout n’est pas aussi rose qu’il peut sembler. Saffie et Andras le luthier n’ont en commun que l’amour. Elle est allemande, Andras est émigré hongrois. Tout les sépare, et on comprend petit à petit le mutisme de Saffie ; son enfance a été ponctuée par divers évènements traumatisants, son père ayant été nazi. Andras ne comprend pas son indifférence au monde qui l’entoure, lui fais fréquemment des reproches à ce propos. Peu à peu ils ne se comprennent plus, mais restent tout de même liés, jusqu’à ce qu’Andras assiste aux répressions de 1961. Il en revient transformé, et le clivage est d’autant plus grand entre eux. Cela fait bientôt 1 mois que Saffie n’a pas vu Andras. Pourtant ils se revoient, et ce rendez-vous au parc, accompagnés du petit garçon de Saffie, va marquer la fin de l’histoire... Raphaël aperçoit Andras et comprend tout…
Il emmène alors son jeune fils en voyage, afin que celui-ci lui avoue tout ce qu’il sait. Ce faisant il désunit le duo d’inséparables formé par Saffie et son fils, et finit par causer la mort de celui-ci, dans des circonstances tragiques. Je spoile, mais c’est pour montrer à quel point ce roman est tragique, révoltant, dérangeant parfois. Les sentiments des personnages sont complexes, Saffie et Andras sont hantés par des origines et un passé qui bouleversent leurs vies. Leurs réactions sont surprenantes, parfois gênantes ; on ne sait trop que penser, on ne sait pas s’il faut compatir ou non à leurs réactions, à ces stigmates du passé qui les rendent si imprévisibles. Ce roman déroute, le lecteur se sent impuissant et presque rejeté face à ces êtres dévorés par le passé et l’Histoire. Sur les quatre personnages du roman, c’est Raphaël et son fils qui, je trouve, sont les plus à plaindre : ils doivent subir les humeurs et déconvenues de leur épouse et mère, et pour le petit garçon celles d’Andras, qu’il considère comme son Papa. Or ces pauvres ères n’aspirent qu’à une chose : le bonheur. Etre heureux et qu’on les laisse tranquilles. Ce qui est loin d’être le cas, même si le flûtiste, tout à sa musique, met un temps certain à s’en rendre compte.
                Une dernière chose tout de même, à propos du titre et plus joyeuse que le reste : pourquoi « l’empreinte de l’ange » ? Cela réfère à une histoire qu’Andras raconte à Saffie : à notre naissance, un ange pose son doigt au-dessus de notre lèvre supérieure, ce qui forme la petite goutte que nous avons tous à cet endroit. Telle cette marque, le passé pose sur la mémoire sa marque indélébile, qui jamais ne disparaît. Ainsi nous sommes tous ce que notre passé a fait de nous, et il est difficile d’oublier ce passé. Un passé qui peut être destructeur, comme l’illustre Nancy Huston. Du moins telle est ma lecture de cette œuvre ; une lecture pessimiste…et une empreinte plutôt démoniaque dès lors…
  

Faux pas de Maria Adolfsson (Doggerland 1)

Quatri�me de couverture C�est le lendemain de la grande f�te de l�hu�tre � Heim?, l��le principale du Doggerland. L�inspectrice Karen Eiken...