Michel Houellebecq is an author I don't particularly like but I add compulsively to my towering, teetering TBR pile the way I often shake a few drops of bitters into my plain soda water. It's just not the same without it, though it tastes like ass by itself.

I don't read a lot of him in a row, is what I'm saying.

But when he publishes a new book, I'm never not interested.


But so, since I have Houellebecq filed in my head as an unpleasant but necessary man to read, not as bad as Robert Silverberg or Albert Cossery in that I never want to read anything else by either of those authors ever again but still as someone I kind of need to brace myself for, imagine my surprise to discover that his latest novel, Annihilation is moving, human and lovely!

This is not to say that Annihilation is not bitter or bleak -- I mean, just get a load of the title! -- as I was expecting; there's still plenty to grit one's teeth through in this story of a prosperous civil servant enduring the disappointments of middle age in 21st century France. But our man Paul, whose image first really came into focus for me in a scene straight out of my favorite Editors song, depicting him smoking outside the hospital where his father has just been admitted as a coma patient, is the most sympathetic character I've seen Houellebecq create, and it's not even close.*



We first meet him as he's beginning to tackle a worrisome problem at his job. An unknown entity is releasing very provocative video clips on the Internet, designed to stir maximum fear and unrest in French society. One even depicts the head of Paul's department, Bernard, who is the French Minister of Finance and a potential candidate for the next President of France, being decapitated. For a while, then, Annihilation feels like it's going to be a fancy high tech thriller/crime investigation, as Paul calls in personal resources to help him unravel who is doing this and why. For instance, an old friend who founded one of the best cinematic special effects companies in the world reviews the footage so far and quickly informs Paul that nobody, not his own firm, not Industrial Light and Magic, nobody, is currently capable of creating what they have been reviewing at the level of detail and realism they are seeing.

And then things get weirder and worse.


In the midst of all of this intrigue, Paul's elderly, widowed father, a retired intelligence agent who still retains some files that his former masters have asked Paul to get back for them (possibly, somehow, related to the case Paul is currently working on, meaning dear old Dad may have one last chance to be a hero), has suffered a medical emergency that has left him in a coma. And Paul, whom we've seen so far as something of a typical cold and bitter Houellebecq character, is landed in a whole mess of family drama, involving his father's "companion" Madeline (originally a live-in nurse but now a romantic partner that it's easier to just regard as a wife), Paul's devoutly Catholic sister Cecile and her easy-going husband Herve and their daughters**, their much-younger brother Aurielle and his insufferable wife, Indy, and a whole host of compassionate but firm medical professionals who are there to ease them all through the transition from having a busy and still-active father to having one who will probably never walk or talk or do things for himself again.

All of these characters are richly realized and sympathetically portrayed enough to give the scenes between them considerable emotional heft without ever drifting into melodrama.

But lest I sound like Houellebecq has gone completely soft in his old age, there are still a few passages like this, which could have been lifted from The Elementary Particles, to remind us of with whom we're dealing:
For some years, it's true, the balls of shit had been copulating in smaller numbers, they seemed to have learned to reflect one another, they were aware of their mutual stench, and disgustedly parted company; an extinction of the human race seemed imaginable in the medium term. That left other trash like cockroaches and bears, but you can't sort everything out at the same time, Paul said to himself.
This as he contemplates the recent destruction by the mystery terrorists of a Danish sperm bank. A golden star to you if you can guess what the balls of shit are in the above.

But all of this is just camouflage for the book's true nature. Houellebecq lies in wait for us at the bottom of a sandy funnel to which he has baited us with illusions of technothrillery and heartfelt family drama. We've traipsed along these fascinating and moving edges like an ant on a patch of sand, not noticing the funnel shape the sand is gradually assuming until abruptly the sides have gotten too steep. We fall into Houellebecq's waiting jaws; he will drain us and toss our husks back onto the pile of corpses above, the pile that we also did not notice while we were distracted by Paul's rediscovery of his marriage, by his father's apparent holding of the key to the mystery.


And at last the title of the novel, heretofore seeming maybe an ironic joke at our expense, makes sense. I won't call Annihilation a shaggy dog story as such, but it shares some of that thing's qualities, though in service of a point a shaggy dog story lacks. I will caution you that, for a little while after finishing Annihilation, I felt a bit disappointed in it. So might you. But I suspect that on further reflection you might overcome this feeling, as I did a few days later, when I realized what Houellebecq had, in fact, achieved.

I suppose if anyone was, with his (probable) last book, going to reveal himself as a literary ant lion, it would be Michel Fucking Houellebecq.

Now excuse me; I am dealing with my own issues with aging and also with unhipness. I have only just discovered that Houellebecq is in a film with Iggy Pop. How the hell did this escape my notice????? Oh yeah, there was a presidential election and stuff going on, even way back then.


*Not that I've read all of his novels; just most of them.

**One of whom has an encounter with Paul out in the world that is possibly the funniest passage I've ever encountered in Houellebecq.

Anything by Michel Houellebecq is worth checking out, even just for a few pages, and that's about as much as I lasted with Annihilation. As high quality as Houellebecq's novels can be, he does write the occasional dud, like The Possibility of an Island or The Map and the Territory, which is the company I'd lump Annihilation. It's the kind of novel he writes that's nowhere near as biting or engaging as his best stuff is - much more tamed down, slower, with an eye toward literary respectability and form. He's showing whoever he feels needs to see it that he can write traditionally, ie. boringly, and I hate when he does this. Annihilation is slow moving, lugubrious prose, an uninteresting premise, even less interesting characters, and offering up nothing to make me want to slog through 500+ pages of ponderous writing. Hopefully his next one will be better!

Houellebecq’s Annihilation feels like a novel crafted for his most dedicated fans. It’s not that you need to be familiar with his previous works to appreciate this one; rather, his latest effort, plunges deep into gloom and despair. The story centers on characters confined largely to a hospital room, with occasional moments of bleak humor that only serve to intensify the overall sense of sadness and hopelessness.

The novel explores the crumbling of both personal and societal structures. The dying father may represent what Houellebecq sees as France’s last semi-functional generation, while his children embody various forms of modern dysfunction. Whether it’s intended as a broader metaphor for France’s future or simply a reflection of family dynamics, the disintegration of meaningful communication and shared beliefs within the family feels depressingly relevant. Despite this, Annihilation manages to keep readers engaged. While the subject matter weighs heavy, the narrative itself never becomes tiresome, a testament to Houellebecq’s skill in crafting compelling prose that reflects his pessimistic worldview.

Key themes include the aging population, a lack of value placed on old age, and the shift in political landscapes. Houellebecq envisions a future where nationalism is repackaged and sold by both far-right groups like the Rassemblement National and by personality-driven leaders, rendering old political parties obsolete. The novel’s focus on failing marriages and existential despair in middle age also represents a shift from his earlier works, which explored the loneliness of younger years.

The last 100 pages offer surprising twists and games with readers’ expectations, making the narrative feel tightly woven despite its length. Houellebecq’s dark brilliance shines through, Annihilation reaffirms his place as a master of modern existential literature.

I went into this book thinking that it is a political thriller. Turned out it is not that. The book pursues two lines of narrative linked to a common character Paul Raison. Paul is working for the French Finance Minister Bruno. It is 2027, France is poised for a Presidential election and Bruno is a potential candidate for the Liberals. Several terrorist attacks have occurred. In the parallel narrative, Paul's aging father has suffered a stroke and is in a coma. This unfortunate tragedy brings about a reunion of the three siblings and their families with lots of emotional turmoil. I loved the author's writing about the seemingly mid-life crisis and the travails of dealing with aging parents. The author takes several not-so-subtle digs at the many ills of the French public health system. This story in fact formed a more substantial part of the book. While I loved reading the book overall, despite the slow pacing, I found the terror-crime angle a bit unresolved although it did portray a cynical and satirical view of geopolitics as it stands today. I also felt the family-oriented story sort of drifted towards the end. Nevertheless, I am definitely intrigued and will be seeking out more of the author's past work. The excellent translation by Shaw Whitetide does full justice, I had to remind myself that the book is originally written in French.
Thank you NetGalley and FSG books for the ARC

This was a slog to get through… It’s not a bad book, but I didn’t enjoy it. It’s grey, dull and gloomy…
It certainly is more introspective and less provocative than any of Houellebecq’s books that I read before, albeit there are enough statements in Annihilation that could open a few cans of worms… But Houellebecq has always been provocative and problematic.
He doesn’t steer away from his typical characters: lonely, depressed men, frustrated, lost, insecure, and misogynistic. The most interesting part (the cyber terrorism) is not resolved at all, which was quite frustrating.
I have a difficult relationship with Houellebecq, but I keep reading him… probably because I find him interesting and culturally important, albeit some of his themes feel stale.
Houellebecq is an acquired taste…

Annihilation
Michel Houllebecq

Set in 2027 France, the incumbent Liberals are upset by the right wing chaos element – this is Michel Houllebecq’s latest novel. Perhaps reflecting a mellowing, aging Houllebecq, Annihilation is not as bombastic as his earlier work. It is an introspective, bleak novel dealing with aging and mental illness and how society (ineffectively and callously) deals with these. It is a novel about failed marriage and life’s cruelties, of grief and death, and eventually, how the narrator, Paul, comes to terms with these with devotion, emotional fulfillment and love.

This is a long book, made all the longer by the grey atmosphere of the writing throughout. It is a difficult read, and may not be for everyone. I am mixed about this one. I, for one prefer the “shock and awe” of the more emotive, although sometimes repulsive, Submission and Serotonin to the dreary gloom of this, however, I am glad I read Annihilation, as in it is reflected the author’s progression and maturation, the evolution and completion of Houllebecq’s oeuvre.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher, FSG, for providing an advance copy for review.

Probably the least Houellebecquian of the Houellebecq novels. He's the bad boy of French literature, but in his old age he's been softened, or been domesticated. Because of his age, this might be the last novel he'll publish, and it's markedly different than the others.

His books that have taken on Islam have been savage, but here he offers only sidelong critiques of Catholicism, Buddhism and Wiccans -- all of which lack the punch of his earlier novels.

And though he's known for writing sexually provocative material, here he focuses on marital love, sex inside a typical marriage relationship. A lot of the most provocative sexual experiences occur in hindsight, as the character remembers them from long ago.

The novel is set in the near future in France, with hyper-realistic AI videos, undetectable from actual footage, and there are thinly veiled references to popular French politicians.

My main problem was the central plot engine of the book -- mysterious cyberattacks taking place worldwide -- never gets satisfactorily resolved. And he has a remarkably boring motif of more than fifteen dream sequences throughout the novel, none of which matter one iota to the story.

This is classic Houellebecq, which is to say that his writing is an acquired taste. He captures the sense of existential dread in France, and gives us a warning for the times to come.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦."

Started this last month and claiming an end to it for this month. The long and the short of it was that I thought I could get into this, finish it, on all the planes, trains, and automobiles I rode in between Japan and Korea. But it was the existential dread constricting me from this book that could not push me to be interested in it. There's a dryness here. Long sentences. Humor sprinkled here and there. But nothing really severe to save itself from an end I already spoiled for myself.

If Houellebecq, from all the things I know about him as this is my first of his, has gone soft to claim love as resolution to a carcass of a mammoth, then I'm through! Give me Proust. Or hell give me a Russian classic. But this just doesn't seem worth the realist torture to move through.

And I think that's what it is. There's something realistically painful about being an adult this book holds that I'm not mature enough to push through it. It's about decay. Death of institution. Death of connections. And how do you save yourself from all of that? All explored here.

".. 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.."

Fantastic translation and an omen of things to (maybe?) come. Quickly becoming one of my favorite books of the year, and looking forward to owning the hardcover.

Goodness me, this was awful. Drab, airless, interminably dull. Endlessly long (550 pages in my edition) for what it is. A political drama of sorts, except there is nothing dramatic about it; a kind of a detective novel about mysterious acts of terrorism striking Europe, except that it is written in a way that makes it impossible to care who does it or why. And then there is a small parade of mutilated relationships and familial dysfunction, but again the whole is so drenched in pointlessness and sedation, that I felt only indifference and boredom, rather than any pity or a sense of identification. It is only at the very end, the last 50 pages or so, that there is a bit of respite and redemption; the writing finally becomes alive, ironically—or intentionally—as it deals with contemplation of an inexorable, horrible decline and death.

Even Houllebecq’s usual provocations, his lashings-out against politeness and political correctness, are few and far between. Not that I ever set much store by them. Sure, there is some half-hearted misogyny, a bit of joyless pornography, some warmed-over social critique, but it all lands even flatter than before; at no point, did it manage to shake me out of boredom, to distract from waiting for this thing to end.

But then maybe the joke is on me? Maybe writing something as insipid and pointless is itself a clever literary provocation? I say, who cares. I do feel provoked in one way only—to anger for having wasted too much time on a book so undeserving of it.

— with thanks and apologies to Farrar, Straus and Giroux who made an ARC available via NetGalley

Michel Houllebecq is telling us in his inimitable way that France is in deep trouble. I write this in France on the day of the second round of the French elections. The far right has been allowed to foment racial tensions in rural areas. Issues ignored by Macron's Centrist project have played into the hands of the fascists. Houllebecq's protagonist, Paul, is the usual stand-in for the writer himself. Racist, misogynistic, loveless and unaware of his surroundings. And just like Macron, the nagging pain that Paul ignores through the book, is what leads to his annihilation.

ANNIHILATION marks Houellebecq's strongest examination of death in contemporary life—a fascination that threaded through some of his earlier works (most notably THE MAP AND THE TERRITORY) but that was largely eclipsed by his concern for sex. In that sense, the book feels like a maturation; I truly don't know what else Houellebecq could say about sex, and it's good that he seems to recognize this. This novel entwines the death of the individual with the death of the nation as it works through the dilemma of whether a natural death or an administered death is truly the most humane. The novel offers much to ponder, but its almost 600-page length feels baggy. None will wish this book longer. Indeed, some of the plot lines make sense from a certain distance, but taking a step back, the book might have been stronger if they had been removed. Still, Houellebecq's writing shows the vitality of his intellect and offers much to ponder.