3.5/5

I'm not sure how to review this, it is an exquisite memoir that's for sure. But it's hard to describe why.

I think some of it comes from the eloquent writing and translation here, how much influences the other is hard to tell though. I think the start has some beautiful passages on memory, but it took me a bit longer to *really* get into this. The book really stood out to me when Ernaux talks about the 60s, especially May 68 which seems to be a pivotal moment for her. But even then, the memoir still has those traces of memories that sound familiar to whenever I've spoken to my grandparents. All of the shifts of the mid-late 20th Century, the rapid changes from austerity to welfare capital and consumer culture, the contrast between the lives in media and history books and the realities of working class lives in this period, the alienating shifts towards neoliberalism and the 21st century. Ernaux displays all of that in way that is more than a memoir and becomes more sociological in how this is documented and described.

Even with how specifically French this is (it might help having some ideas on French political history for this), there's passages that sound familiar from others, as well as ones that feel relevant to me.

Definitely recommend reading this, taking your time with it and really letting it absorb.

Evocative, encyclopedic, historical, and thought-provoking. I wish there were a similar book detailing the American experience—there probably is. In the beginning, in the 1940s and 50s French countryside, I thought, “my God, we have EvERYTHING now”. By the end, I was more disillusioned by the accelerating rush of ”progress” (while still cognizant of how easy we have it)

zeitgeisty and relatable - glad to know every generation before us was also consumed by political dread

Me and the Nobel prize committee will recommend Annie Ernaux to anyone.
I know this is the peak of her collective history/autofiction thing BUT personally I prefer her shorter books that focus on a specific thing more. Passion simple, l’événement, la femme gelée, regarde les lumières mon amour all do this incredible cultural-history-through-her-own- life in a way that feels more precise. They offer her perspective on having a crush, being a slut, supermarkets, the inevitable trap of domesticity etc, in a way that feels raw and relatable. But this one felt less accessible and more indulgent in boomer exceptionalism.
I just didn’t love it as much so I’m more recommending the others than hating on this one.