Playing with food imagery and writing in a jazzy rhythm, this metafictional musing on the economic reality of being a writer gives the reader a glimpse at the rationale behind microfiction. The sprinkling of French terms places us in a specific context, but the endeavor feels universal as the narrator works to eat. For more microfiction, head over to the brand new Winter 2018 issue of Asymptote!
Business is much too slack these days to imagine treating oneself to a simple sherbet dip after a day spent scribbling in the light of the desk lamp, and going off, just like that, to lick the liquorice stick while daydreaming under the moonlight. It’s drummed into me from all sides that one must breathe frugally and through clenched lips, measure my steps parsimoniously, mind the tallow on the end of the candle and above all cut down on my extravagances. Times are for cutting the kipper in quarters, you see, my wife said to me just yesterday and as we sat down to eat, and I won’t even go into how much your ciggies are costing us. I blushed slightly. Soon we’ll have to go up the stairs two by two to protect the steps, I thought in petto, not wanting to be outdone.
For a minute, I seriously considered appealing to my editor and requesting the favour of a modest advance, but I quickly dropped this absurd idea knowing editors to be deafer than a sack of potatoes to such an approach. And yet, had I not, for more than thirty years now, always stuck to the severe discipline imposed by the short form with the sole purpose of saving him excessive paper wastage? Others, over the same period, have barely burdened themselves with such noble scruples by launching into hundred-volume sagas in a style as dense and costly as the demolition of an inner city housing project. They, however, are showered with praise on book lists, pampered and blessed by the gods, they nobble all the awards and heavily endowed prizes while I, unbeliever, am reduced to living from hand to mouth.
Starting a readers’ subscription I cannot envisage either, mine being insufficiently numerous to hope to go in one fell swoop from boiled pasta to salmon and dill crumble followed by vanilla-scented raspberry delice and red berry coulis for dessert. No, I value my small handful of loyal readers, a quiet company brought together by enthusiasm and friendship; free nonetheless from that cynical familiarity that too often serves to conceal an inconsiderate no-good person of little worth. It seems to me wiser to stay where I am.
I will therefore continue to numb the sorrows of old age by manufacturing my hand-made lace in the shadows and in self-denial and just for the beauty of it, as well as to keep my mind busy and try to shield myself, insofar as I can, from the mounting anxiety of tomorrow. Consoling myself in times of trouble with the idea that putting the hemp tie around my neck always remains a possible solution when the time comes. There is a time for everything as the adage goes and as for tonight, to the devil with hard times! I’m going to treat myself forthwith to a sherbet dip, the decision is made.
Translated from the French by Andrea Reece
Pierre Autin-Grenier (1947-2014) was from Lyon in France. Considered by some to be one of the masters of the short story form in contemporary French fiction, his works also contain strong elements of poetic prose. A true “soixante-huitard,” Autin-Grenier’s humorous vignettes on mortality, malady, political repression and the French perennials—baguettes, bars, and vin rouge—are situated in the continuity of the ’68 student protests in France. Revolt and the erection of barricades are never far away in his fiction. Autin-Grenier worked in banking for many years before becoming a journalist, then writer. He published around twenty works, most of which are collections of novellas and short stories. The collection from which this piece was taken, entitled C’est tous les Jours comme ça, was awarded the Grand Prix d’Humour Noir and has a cult following. His influences include Réda, Céline, Bernhard, Cioran, Gombrowicz, Carver, and Ritsos.
Andrea Reece translates from French and Spanish. This translation of French author Pierre Autin- Grenier’s C’est tous les Jours comme ça received a commendation at the EUNIC / English Pen European Literature Night Translation Pitch in 2015. In the same year, she copy-edited an anthropology/photography/recipe book, Slices of Life by Piero Vereni, Elia Romanelli, and Ottavia Castellina, published by Italian publishers Bruno. Her translation of All About Yves by Catherine Ormen has just been published by Larousse / Laurence King Publishing. She has contributed book reviews to Three Percent and written for the BCLT’s translation journal In Other Words. She writes readers’ reports and translates fiction samples for a number of French, Spanish, and UK publishers. She has recently had a translated excerpt from Franco-Guadaloupean author Michel Faleme’s Zarma: Yennendi published in Asymptote’s New Voices in French Literature special feature.
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