<p>Today’s Quotation is care of Raymond Queneau. Listen in! Subscribe to Quotomania on quotomania.com or search for Quotomania on your favorite podcast app!</p> <p>Raymond Queneau, (born Feb. 21, 1903, Le Havre, France—died Oct. 25, 1976, Paris), was a French author who produced some of the most important prose and poetry of the mid-20th century. After working as a reporter for <em>L’Intransigeant </em>(1936–38), Queneau became a reader for the prestigious <em>Encyclopédie de la Pléiade, </em>a scholarly edition of past and present classical authors, and by 1955 was its director.</p> <p>From Queneau’s Surrealist period in the 1920s he retained a taste for verbal juggling, a tendency toward black humor, and a derisive posture toward authority. His puns, sneers, spelling extravaganzas, and other linguistic contortions concealed a total pessimism, an obsession with death. His corrosive laughter rang out in the seemingly light verse of his childhood reminiscences in <em>Chêne et chien </em>(1937; “Oak and Dog”), a novel in verse, and in more philosophical poems: <em>Les Ziaux </em>(1943), <em>Petite Cosmogonie portative </em>(1950; “A Pocket Cosmogony”), and <em>Si tu t’imagines </em>(1952; “If You Imagine”).</p> <p>The pattern of his novels was similar: from a familiar setting—a suburb, an amusement park, or a Paris subway—emerged the vision of an absurd world. Such is the format of <em>Le Chiendent</em> (1933; <em>The Bark Tree</em>); <em>Zazie dans le métro </em>(1959; <em>Zazie</em>), probably his best-known work (filmed 1960); <em>Les Fleurs bleues </em>(1965; <em>The Blue Flowers</em>); and <em>Le Vol d’Icare</em> (1968; <em>The Flight of Icarus</em>). These chronicles of simple people are recounted in language that ranges from everyday slang to the loftiest poetic diction.</p> <p>From <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Raymond-Queneau"><u>https://www.britannica.com/biography/Raymond-Queneau</u></a>.</p>
Today’s Quotation is care of Raymond Queneau. Listen in! Subscribe to Quotomania on quotomania.com or search for Quotomania on your favorite podcast app!
Raymond Queneau, (born Feb. 21, 1903, Le Havre, France—died Oct. 25, 1976, Paris), was a French author who produced some of the most important prose and poetry of the mid-20th century. After working as a reporter for L’Intransigeant (1936–38), Queneau became a reader for the prestigious Encyclopédie de la Pléiade, a scholarly edition of past and present classical authors, and by 1955 was its director.
From Queneau’s Surrealist period in the 1920s he retained a taste for verbal juggling, a tendency toward black humor, and a derisive posture toward authority. His puns, sneers, spelling extravaganzas, and other linguistic contortions concealed a total pessimism, an obsession with death. His corrosive laughter rang out in the seemingly light verse of his childhood reminiscences in Chêne et chien (1937; “Oak and Dog”), a novel in verse, and in more philosophical poems: Les Ziaux (1943), Petite Cosmogonie portative (1950; “A Pocket Cosmogony”), and Si tu t’imagines (1952; “If You Imagine”).
The pattern of his novels was similar: from a familiar setting—a suburb, an amusement park, or a Paris subway—emerged the vision of an absurd world. Such is the format of Le Chiendent (1933; The Bark Tree); Zazie dans le métro (1959; Zazie), probably his best-known work (filmed 1960); Les Fleurs bleues (1965; The Blue Flowers); and Le Vol d’Icare (1968; The Flight of Icarus). These chronicles of simple people are recounted in language that ranges from everyday slang to the loftiest poetic diction.