Author:  Dominique Barbèris, translated by John Cullen

Publisher: Other Press

ISBN: 1635420458


This wisp of a novel seems entirely aware of just how well its seeming minimalism gives it an emotional power well beyond the straightforward prose, unpretentious plotting, and modest length. Now, it must be noted that the original, in French, was published by Dominique Barbèris in 2019, and that this is a slightly more recent version in English, courtesy of John Cullen. So it may be a bit difficult to decide with any definitiveness where the bulk of its elegant power comes from, Barbèris’s original storytelling or Cullen’s new translation. My guess is both—in equally large and important measures.


Make no mistake: the kind of literary simplicity that surrounds “Sunday in Ville-d’Avray” is very difficult to achieve. In that way, the word simplicity is quite deceptive. Only a natural storyteller (and to some extent, a perceptive translator) can create passages that are reminiscent of a poem, or a scene from a beloved movie, or an emotion sparked by a memory, or by the turning of a phrase, or by the description of a place.

Put together, these passages, from the first page to the last, create an alluring story of two sisters, their confidences, contemplations, secrets, and desires.

Barbèris is an award-winning French writer with nine previous novels to her credit. She also teaches writing at the Sorbonne. With that kind of background and resume, perhaps, then, it is no wonder that her tale of emotional, marital, and illusionary intrigue in the Paris suburbs has such effective and haunting simplicity and power. In addition to the poetic prose, the cinematic resonance, and the recognizable emotional touchpoints, what is also evident is the author’s accomplishment in visiting an explicit past without ever really leaving an equally explicit present. That’s another valuable literary skill she possesses.

But as one of the sisters says in the novel, “I’m not trying to justify myself.” So, too, does this writer seem to know that she can merely tell the story she wants to tell in the way she wants to tell it, regardless of whether or not the book meets all the common literary norms present in countless others within its genre. Between Barbèris’s original work and the support of her translator, this effort works fine just the way it is.