This novel was unlike any novel I’ve read before, from the alternating narratives to the magical realism to the truths revealed of the unreliability and significance of childhood and memory. To begin with, I have always loved the use of repetition as a poetic tool, and Perec’s use of lists in the early chapters of the novel to illustrate memory added an element of prose to what can be considered a rather dense, semi-historical read (eg. “1. In fact the declaration made in accordance with clause 3 of the Law of 10 August 1927 was entered by my father a few months later […] 2. According to my aunt Esther, as far as I know the only person who can now remember the existence of her only niece […] ” [20]). I also loved how the author called out his own uncertainty of what may have actually transpired in his past; this gives readers good reason to trust Perec, as we know he is not trying to embellish any details. Rather, he is determined to be as honest as possible (eg. “I do not know the source of this memory, which nothing has ever confirmed” [37]).

I will admit, I was a little lost in the second part of the novel, as Perec began to elaborate more and more on the land of W. I was very impressed by the thoroughness of his world-building, but I struggled to understand how this fit into the earlier narrative of Gaspard Winckler and Perec’s own childhood. At first, I thought that perhaps Winckler had become a citizen of W. However, as the injustices of W were rendered clearer and clearer, I forgot about Winckler altogether. The treatment of women is especially horrific (eg. “when the women have got far enough ahead, the Starter switches off the current and the men can set off in pursuit of their prey” [130]), notably how this world Perec has built makes a game of assaulting and humiliating women. However, at the statement, “There are competitions every day, where you Win or Lose. You have to fight to live. There is no alternative. It is not possible to close your eyes to it, it is not possible to say no. There’s no recourse, no mercy, no salvation to be had from anyone” (140), the larger allegory begins to reveal itself. Perec is trying to show us that this world he has created, with all its atrocities, is his own familial history, and such narratives will reappear, so long as our culture continues to make a game of injustice and discrimination. The statement, “It is more important to be lucky than to be deserving” (118), is especially haunting. This was not an easy read, but it was most certainly a worthwhile one.

That said, I was hoping for some sort of resolution to the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Gaspard Winckler. Why do you think Perec elects not to tell us? What do you think happened to the little boy?