![Testament](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
![Testament](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
![](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
![](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
Testament
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4.0 • 14 Ratings
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- $10.99
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- $10.99
Publisher Description
Je suis au Kingdom, coin Saint-Laurent Sainte-Cath. Mindy et Trevor analysent mon corps avec leurs mains en glu. Nikky est belle. Plus belle que moi. Plus fluide que moi. Je tombe partout. Je ferme les yeux, j’ouvre les yeux. On est le 6 juin 2012. Je suis à l’hôpital Notre-Dame. On m’apprend que j’ai une tumeur en nuage dans mon tronc cérébral.
Je ferme les yeux, j’ouvre les yeux. Je suis à New York. Devant la cage des fennecs, au zoo de Brooklyn. J’obtiens une permission spéciale pour pouvoir les flatter. Je ferme les yeux, j’ouvre les yeux. Je vois l’Autriche, je rencontre Ulrich Seidl. Il me parle de son prochain film. Je ferme les yeux, j’ouvre les yeux. Je suis dans un show noise avec les dudes de Granular Synthesis. Je ferme les yeux. Je garde les yeux fermés longtemps. Je ne ferai rien de tout ça.
Dimanche je vais aller au Beautys avec les amis boire un milkshake Cookies & Creme. Ça, je le ferai. Les yeux ouverts, grands.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Author and poet Gendreau began writing this moving "autofictional" novel after she was diagnosed with a brain tumor in June 2012. The book examines her life and looks forward, contemplating her death (which came in May 2013, when she was 24) and the effect it will have and its inevitability has already had on her friends and loved ones. It is broken into sections in which the author bequeaths poems and fennec foxes to certain individuals, and constructs testimonials and commentary imagining how she will be remembered. Wall's translation preserves Gendreau's vulnerability and honesty as she dwells on an unrequited love and her regret over not being there for a friend prior to his suicide. The novel switches between larger blocks of text from Gendreau, her inner circle of friends and family, and several noms de plume she employs to briefly step outside herself and point-form poetry that reads sometimes like synapses firing abstractly and at random. While the text suffers at times from a feeling of emotional separation, with its construction and intentional artistry overwhelming its seemingly more impassioned and naked aspects, the journey through the end of Gendreau's life and beyond remains delicate, introspective, and wholly unusual. It is a literary trip worth taking.