The premise of this book intrigued me. A woman processes her grief over the loss of her boyfriend in a tragic motorcycle accident through a series of "What If" statements. The statements start as reasonable, like what if they hadn't closed on their new house early or what if her brother hadn't left his motorcycle at the new house to a little more wild, like what if the inventor of this motorcycle hadn't been born. The narrator works through the events of the day of his death, trying to understand what caused the accident. But, like most accidents, she is not able to come to an exact answer despite all of her searching.

This is an interesting piece of autofiction (Giraud's partner died in the same way) but it left me wanting. Perhaps I went into it with too high of expectations, since it had won the Prix Goncourt in 2022? I appreciated the way the narrator, and Giraud, used this format to explore grief but the concept has been done before (and honestly better). It got a little unhinged towards the end as well, which I guess is the nature of grief.

I appreciate what Giraud is doing in this book, but I think it was just not for me.

25 years ago Brigitte Giraud's husband died in a motorcycle accident, at a traffic light in central Lyon.

This short memoir is based on the idea of 'if only'. If only I had not insisted on moving houses, if only I had not been out of town that day, etc. etc.

More than anything it made me want to tell the author: IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! Everything in life is the result of coincidences.

At the same time, the structure creates a clear picture of everything leading up to the Accident, the life Brigitte and Claude had, Claude's personality.

It makes for a good piece of French autofiction - a genre I crave at least a couple of times per year.

J’avoir le cafard (translation: I’m depressed or, more literally, “I have the cockroach”)

This short but sweet novel by Brigitte Giraud perfectly encapsulates the way your mind reels after the loss of a loved one. Across 23 chapters we see Brigitte parce through a series of events that may or may not have directly attributed to the untimely death of her husband, Claude. From actions as small as not making a phone call at 9:30 pm on a Monday night to the events of Saturday, June 19th, 1999- the day Stephen King was struck by a Minivan on his daily walk.

This one felt really hopeless in the way that only French literature can. The English translated edition comes out on Tuesday 2/11.

Thank you NetGalley, Brigitte Giraud, and Ecco publishing for the ARC.

Soulmates, they met young, married soon, had a son, seemingly the recipe for eternal happiness. Then he has an accident ending it all. Although this is over 20 years ago, his widow still muses on the vagaries of life that possibly could have avoided the outcome. In miniscule chapters preceded by "If only," she tells their history and even that of the motorcycle he was riding at the time. Not his. Not even available for sale in the country in which it was built (Japan). A couple well versed in the culture of the day, much reference is made particularly to music as his love for that medium was his source of joy as well as his employment at the Lyon library. Much wisdom between these pages, as well as regret, and one can only hope that by writing it down, she is able to help herself.