A Tomb for Anatole

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An immensely moving poetic work addressing inconsolable a father's pain over the death of his child. Bilingual. "One of the most moving accounts of a man trying to come to grips with modern death that is to say, death without God, death without hope of salvation and it reveals the secret meaning of Mallarme's whole the elevation of art to the stature of religion." Paul Auster, from the Introduction The great French Symbolist poet Stephane Mallarme (1842-1898), who changed the course of modern French literature (and influenced writers from James Joyce to T.S. Eliot to Wallace Stevens), suffered many tragedies. His mother died when he was just five years old, but in 1879 the cruelest blow of all struck when his beloved son Anatole died at the age of eight. A Tomb for Anatole presents the 202 fragments of Mallarme's projected long poem in four parts. By far the poet's most personal work, he could never bring himself to complete it. To speak publicly of his immense sorrow, Mallarme concluded, "for me, it's not possible." Unpublished in France until 1961, these works are very far from the oblique, cool "pure poetry" Mallarme is famous for, poetry that sought to capturepainstakingly" l'absente de tous bouquets " (the ideal flower absent from all bouquets). Paul Auster, who first published A Tomb for Anatole with the North Point Press in 1983 (a volume long out of print), notes in his excellent introduction that facing "the ultimate horror of every parent," these fragments "have a startling unmediated quality." As Mallarme writes, it is "a vision / endlessly purified / by my tears."

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28 reviews All reviews
March 26,2025
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mallarmé’s unfinished notes to a longer work that would be a testimony to the loss of his child, anatole. mallarmé found that not even art could stand testimony to the work of infinite mourning in the absence of his lost child, he wanted to give life back to his lost son through the power of the word, through giving him life in the form of poetry, in the form of art. mallarmé found it impossible to give testament to the fragmented life anatole had, taken away so shortly by sickness, a death that mallarmé blamed himself for. yet, these fragments succeed in giving back the trace of life to his lost child, anatole is the ghost that haunts these pages, these fragments. although the work is “unfinished” so to say, the fragmentary form lends itself beautifully to the fragmented life that anatole had lived, it lends itself to the pained meditation on loss, mourning, death, and absence that mallarmé is capturing. mallarmé conjures the ghost of his child on these pages, to live on forever.
March 26,2025
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Beautiful book that links Mallarme's anticipatory postmodernism with his latent romanticism, all in the context of grief laid bare and the need to "say."
March 26,2025
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Do not read these fragments in a public place. Read them in bed, under the sheets, in semi-darkness, with a pillow close to your eyes.

Oh! you understand
that if I consent
to live - to seem
to forget you -
it is to
feed my pain
- and so that this apparent
forgetfulness
can spring forth more
horribly in tears, at

some random
moment, in
the middle of this
life, when you
appear to me.
March 26,2025
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"image of me other than me carried off in death! / your future which has taken refuge in me becomes my / purity through life, which I shall not touch" (5).

A searing account of intimate loss, fragmented and raw upon the page. I would recommend this text to anyone who has lost someone dear to illness. Repeatedly, Mallarmé returns to the idea that his son will live on in those who loved him, and I think that's an idea of enduring beauty. There is a deep sadness though without the comfort of eternity in the poet's thinking. For Anatole's Tomb is altogether a deeply moving account of life's ultimate fragility and the great tragedy of a life unlived.

"Death - whispers softly - I am no one - I do not even know / myself (for dead do not know that they are dead, nor even / that they are dying...) / for otherwise my beauty is made up of last / moments - lucidity, beauty, face - of what would be me, / without me" (25).

My interest in Mallarmé mainly arises from his correspondences with artist Berthe Morisot, but this is a remarkable poetic feat that leaves behind a great shadow of emotion. It's a worthy experience with incredibly piercing lines ("you have struck me and you have chosen your / wound well")—still chilled by the lament of the emptiness without his eight-year-old son sitting on his knee.

"sick in the springtime dead in the autumn - it's the sun / [...] son reabsorbed not gone / [...] fury against the formless" (3).

Now I'm doing more researching about Symbolism and and thinking about this Sartre quote I found: "It's the death of his [Mallarmé's] mother all over again, this mystery of the Disincarnation, the union of a myth and a ritual, seems to found a Christianity in reverse. It's not the Parousia, but Absence that is the hope and aim. What 'was in the beginning' was not the logos, but the vile abundance of Being, Vulgarity; it is neither Creation nor the passage of the Word into the World that we adore, but instead the passage by emaciation of Reality into the Word" (113).
March 26,2025
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Oh so powerful. A charged work that is not even
"a work" but notes of a scrapped attempt. The gaps in the poems leave so much space for brutal emotion.

This was supposed to be a review, not an update!! Aghh
March 26,2025
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A touchy and perhaps impossible ability to grasp the fear and despair of losing someone, yet Stephane Mallarme through the cool eyes of using his craft or art to embrace and understand such a lost. It's a work that has a beginning but no ending. Death there is an ending but excepting or dealing with death it seems to be an open book.... for some.
March 26,2025
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This beautifully designed edition positions the original French unavoidably underneath the translation on each page. The juxtaposition is genius for Mallarme, whose poems are so utterly dependent on sound that the translations are something entirely other, and one can see & hear that clearly on each page.
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