Between Fantoine and Agapa, fiction, short stories, cloth, 83pp.
“I was very much under the influence of the surrealists, of attempts to approach the unconscious. Logic seemed to me to be incapable of attaining the very special domain of literature…an intense desire to abolish all the constraints of classical writing made me produce these exercises … this little volume contains in embryo all the forms taken by my later work.”
Robert Pinget—from the preface
The Cucumbers (extract)
Once upon a time there was a young cucumber, but, well, he wasn’t a bit likeable. He tanned himself. He turned orange-tawny. Always the first on the beach and the last to leave it. He would swell and swell, with half-closed eyes, with provocative peduncle. The cucumbresses were crazy about him. He had a special way of sidling up to you, of rubbing himself against…And what’s more, such enormous veins… So, well, he was the idol of the beach. Which made the beans dry up. And the viper’s grass die by the kilo. Soon the only things left in the market of this seaside town were the cucumbers. Encouraged by their colleague’s conquests, they proliferated. The police had to impose restrictive measures to control their growth. In spite of this decree, the cucumbers overran the district. They were to be seen everywhere. They climbed up the balconies and smothered the nasturtiums; they filled the bathtubs; they rotted in the linen baskets.
from Between Fantoine and Agapa