Living Garden

Incipit

– What are the best moments of your past life? Yazuki asked this morning.
– They are all yet to come, I answered.
I believe that once you have crossed beyond a certain line of force, the enemy is always an ally.

*

Did Yazuki learn about what I told Are about him? Every uttered sentence should be able to stand the presence of him she is talking about.
Did I say something hurtful about Yazuki? Aru would have warned me if such was the case.

*

Yazuki thinks failure is an Absolute.
I start to understand what he means.

Back cover

Digging deeper book after book on her path as a woman and a writer, Laurence Nobécourt is adding to her literary work two pieces of writing whose profundity is quite out of the common, thus standing for a quest for true harmony between body and soul. In Vivant Jardin (Living Garden), she inaugurates in the form of a three-voiced dialogue a deep reflexion on writing and love. The question of how to season a demanding artistic life with loving passion is at stake. “One needs great strengths to pace slightly towards the invisible, in order to reunite what has been separated”. After having signed more or less fifteen novels (among which let’s mention La Vie Spirituelle – The Spiritual Life – or Grâce leur soit rendue – Praised be they -), Laurence Nobécourt hazards a new style, both poetic and sensitive, in her new work to be published at Éditions du Cerf. She lives now amidst the hills of la Drôme provençale where she has launched a creative writing workshop in the small village Dieu-le-fit.

The Lost Poem

Listen to The Lost poem on Youtube

Incipit

Nobody ever warned us about anything, we were no actors
We should soon have our hair dyed you know
I was a little child once
Now I grow old
I can remember everything at last
Put your hand on my forehead mom, I will survive your death and I am scared
Show us your hands, the sisters said
We weren’t warned about anything, neither told children we were
And now, not even a soul to tell us “Go brush your teeth”
Buttocks stiff, tied guts, we show our hands and
I can hear the footsteps of the soldiers in the courtyard
We show the palms of our hands and we show the back of our hands
Put your hand on my forehead
My breasts are sagging
We’ve got Bra cups’ problems now
We age
A German song cries out of famine down here in the cloisters of my belly.

Back cover

Digging deeper book after book on her path as a woman and a writer, Laurence Nobécourt is adding to her literary work two pieces of writing whose profundity is quite out of the common thus standing for a quest for true harmony between body and soul.

In The Lost Poem – Le Poème Perdu -, Laurence Nobécourt (is it truly herself?) calls out to her mother and retraces the life of a modern woman who struggles against the unfair tricks of society and against flying Time. On the occasion of her reading her poem on France Culture Radio, here’s Telerama’s comment at the time : “An ambitious, magnificent piece of writing that has sprouted out of her guts. The achievement of many years of camouflage, fear, not withstanding the feeling of illegitimacy as a Poet”.

After having signed more or less fifteen novels (among which let’s mention La Vie Spirituelle – The Spiritual Life – or Grâce leur soit rendue – Praised be they -, Laurence Nobécourt hazards a new style, both poetic and sensitive, in her new work to be published at Éditions du Cerf. She lives now amidst the hills of la Drôme provençale where she has launched a creative writing workshop in the small village Dieulefit.