Author
René Crevel
1900-1935
René Crevel (1900-1935) is a public-domain author available on Rivro. Read free books, explore subjects, and discover related classics.
Books by René Crevel
Mon corps et moi
"Mon corps et moi" by René Crevel is a novel likely written in the early 20th century. This introspective work delves into themes of solitude, identity, and the human experience, centering on a narrator who grapples with profound feelings of isolation and the complexities of his desires and memories. At the start of the novel, the narrator finds himself alone in a mountain hotel, reflecting on his long-desired solitude. He contemplates memories of past relationships, particularly with a woman he yearns for but can’t truly connect with. The narrative flows through his thoughts on the nature of existence, the haplessness of pursuing genuine connections with others, and his dissatisfaction with the world around him, hinted at through vivid, melancholic imagery and philosophical musings. This opening sets the stage for a journey through the character's psyche, exploring the tension between solitude and the yearning for connection.
Êtes-vous fous?
Êtes-vous fous? by René Crevel is a novel written in the early 20th century. It plunges into a feverish, surreal Paris where a disoriented man—soon rechristened M. Vagualame—stumbles from a mocking, personified City to a fortune-teller’s prophecies and into the orbit of the enigmatic Yolande. With demi-mondaines, a Prince, and visions of colored infants and flaming birds, the book satirizes fate, desire, illness, and modern decadence through hallucinatory episodes and razor-edged wit. The opening of the novel personifies the City as a frigid temptress and follows a man shaken by an autumn morning into the lair of Mme de Rosalba, a fortune-teller whose trance-visions predict a marriage to a redhead, a blue baby, ruinous pleasures, and the entanglement with the glamorous Yolande, while scolding his “vague à l’âme” and offering absurd cautions. Reeling out, he recalls a wintry delirium when a “flame-bird” burst from a trombone and his illness led him to a Swiss sanatorium of balcony-bound patients and dueling gramophones; adrift again in fog, he accepts his new name, meets the alluring Yolande, and follows her home. There she rejects Rosalba’s gossip and unveils the incredible: she is a “living dead” woman sustained by a mummified fakir, once the dancer-spy Myrto-Myrta who moved through Viennese court intrigue, was betrayed by a mysterious lover-officer, executed, and then resurrected—only for her English savior to die in her cold embrace—after which she remade herself as Yolande. As she continues, the tale rewinds further to her childhood as Camille with her twin Pauline in Picpus—a cocher father’s fatal accident after a “prépuce” misunderstanding, a widow’s Italian lover who abuses the girls, and their exile to a fairground with their marraine Rachel, the future Mme de Rosalba—where the excerpt breaks off.