Oscar Jayack is an asshole who doesn’t know what he is. In reality he does know, but he believes it is for the wrong reason: because his origins are humble and although he has achieved literary success, there is always a detail in him that escapes and exposes him, because he is a bad father, because all his relationships They have failed, because… None of these reasons that he internally recognizes that make him a dick include the fact that he harassed a young press officer at his publishing house and screwed up her life. He didn’t even realize that the thing had been so serious, some messages, looks, comments, insinuations, some groping… nothing happened. Nothing happened? For him, no.
Virginie Despentes (France, 1969) does not give him the benefit of the doubt, but she does give him the greater benefit of redemption in her latest novel, Querido copullo (Benvolgut imbècil in the Catalan edition), whose publication in our country coincided with the imposed kiss from Rubiales; The excuses and lies of the former president of the Spanish Football Federation could at times remind those of the protagonist of the novel.
Without a doubt, we live with a good number of assholes like those described by Despentes, but the French writer does not stop at the usual denunciation, but instead delves into the wound that they inflict on women and also on themselves and points to overcoming it. , scans us: addictions, drugs or social networks, loneliness, failure, class struggle, ageism, masculinity, feminism, and even the covid pandemic. Also the real possibility of friendship. In its review of the novel, Le nouvel observateur defined Virginie Despentes as “the writer who best understands our time”; If she is not the most, she is certainly among those who have best reflected this zeitgeist. At full speed.
The three protagonists are united by social networks; One day Oscar Jayack crosses paths on the street with Rebecca Latté, an actress now in her fifties who has to look for roles that are not up to her standards. The writer gives an account on Instagram of the passage of time in that woman who was a goddess, “now converted into an eyesore. She is not only old, but crude, neglected, with repulsive skin. An embarrassment.” But her hate vomit actually has more to do with him than with the actress: “I’m told that she has become a muse for young feminists. “Beggars’ International strikes again.” He has more to do with the writer, because a former press assistant at his publishing house, Zoé Katana, has “metooized” him, as he says, accusing him of harassment that he denies.
The networks work their magic and the actress receives the words from the writer’s Insta and, against all odds, she sends him a response email, an email that begins with “Dear asshole,” followed by “you’re like a dove left me.” “I would shit on my shoulder: a disgusting piece of shit.” The novel adopts an epistolary form, with the exchange of messages between the two, punctuated by chapters in which the narrator is Zoé, the young woman who, since the harassment, suffers from an anxiety that ended her budding career. Zoé has created a feminist blog that is very successful among young people in which she reveals the episode. Oscar has just published a novel and everyone is talking about him, “but not because of my book”; In any case, Zoé gets the worst of it (again): her blog is filled with posts with insults and threats. It is the age of hate.
The novel does not, however, have its center of gravity in the networks, the characters simply live in this century, whose pulse Despentes knows how to capture so well. Oscar and Rebecca discover that they have known each other for years, in fact, since the former’s childhood, when his sister and the future actress were friends in a proletarian suburb. They also discover their mutual loneliness and, strangely, their enjoyment of their correspondence. They discover friendship. Despentes is one of the leading authors of current feminism, which is why the novel was received in France with great expectation.
For some, the approach was a surprise, giving voice to a metooized man, and in fact it was questioned by some radical (and young) critics, but I think the choice is fortunate, the author gets into the skin of the three characters ( Isn’t that the function of literature?), it lets its contradictions appear, it also shows its circumstances. What we now call context. It gets the reader to go beyond a condemnation or a position. Or from a tweet. It gives off humanity. And by the way, it shows that the epistolary genre still has a lot of life ahead of it. Because, what else is an email?
Virginie Despentes Querido Capullo / Dear imbecile. Random House / Sow books. Translation by Robert-Juan Cantavella / Oriol Valls. 264 / 228 pages. 20.80 / 20.90 euros
