Member of the Académie Goncourt, novelist died Tuesday at age 83.
He was the author of novels largely inspired by his own experience, dominated by self-hatred. The writer Francois Nourissier died at the age of 83. Dubbed the "eminence grise", "godfather" or "Mandarin" letters, he was sworn of the Académie Goncourt in 1977.
First novel in 24 years
Born in May 1927 in Paris, lost his father to eight years, Francois Nourissier, graduated from the Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris, began in literature to 24 years in publishing the gray water. In 1952, he joined Denoël editions of which he is general secretary for four years before being editor of the magazine La Parisienne, and literary adviser Grasset.
In 1964, seems a petty bourgeois, severe self-portrait of a man who wrote "I do not love me, I hate my life." Considered his masterpiece, this book is the second of a trilogy that includes autobiographical Blue as the night, appeared in 1958, and a French history published in 1966 and won the Grand Prize of the novel of the French Academy.
"Miss P," Parkinson's
François Nourissier suffered for years from Parkinson's disease he called "Miss P" in his books. "I dreamed of beech, oak, aspen I am – sea green, pale bone – shivering in the gusts of my fall," he wrote in the absence of engineering in 2001. In January 2008 he resigned from the Academy Goncourt for health reasons.
A "Lord of the letters"
The novelist Edmonde Charles-Roux acknowledged on Europe 1 "a nobleman of letters". Those who succeeded Francois Nourissier as President of the Académie Goncourt in 2002 remembers that in the last years of his life, "he was more critical writer. He gave more attention to his books, he was afraid his health does not leave him time to finish. "
For the writer Jean d'Ormesson, Francois Nourissier "died might die just like a character in his books," but "maybe he dies a little late." Nicolas Sarkozy himself has acknowledged a "hussar of the Republic of Letters." "Whoever had the modesty to publish memoirs under the title In the absence of genius left us, in fact, a great work, a reflection of his inner struggles and irony with which he regarded his time and his environment, the letters and of the big bourgeoisie, "wrote the Elysée in a statement.