"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
?Everything should stay as it is, or you will lose everything, and that's how it is for everyone.
Today was a day for getting along, liver-healing, a cocktail party and a faster wireless connection that tolerates renovated turn-of-the-century walls and allows Candy Cane (or Coconut?) to become a part of your afternoon en suite bathroom caucus. Life is not good, but it feels good, on occasion, baby, is what you might type.
- from The Bourgeois Empire Paranoia, pills, and torrent after torrent of glorious porn. A marriage devoid of both sex and emotion. A broken hand, a perpetually surreal home reno, a dying dog.
For Jules, a successful professional with a wife and kids, all of this would be manageable - if it wasn't for Charlie. Because fifteen-year-old girls, dear reader, are something different entirely.
Jules is obsessed with a teenager - he's falling head over heels and attempting to arrest the march of time. He's a man, dammit - a man's man, a guy's guy - and that's all that matters.
The Bourgeois Empire, Evie Christie's first novel, is a Nabokovian fever dream, an encyclopedic guide to mortal sin, and a thoroughly contemporary reimagining of Billy Wilder's classic film The Lost Weekend. And yes, of course, it's a love story too.
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"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
L'auteur se glisse en reporter discret au sein de sa propre famille pour en dresser un portrait d'une humanité forte et fragile
Au Rwanda, l'itinéraire d'une femme entre rêve d'idéal et souvenirs destructeurs
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