In month, in year

A short novel with an unpretentious language and an elegant captivating style, in which Françoise Sagan inserted her traits into a struggle against mocking fate, reckless coincidence, and impossible love, armed only with isolation, illusion, wishes, and absurdity. A great calmness left Sagan’s characters searching for the lost habit, each in their own way. It was a light, well-crafted, and enjoyable literary painting, where imagination blended with reality, dreams with despair, paper tragedy with psychological tragedy, and the depth of philosophy with Sagan’s characteristic elegant narrative sentences. That writer who captures from details and psychological states what you would not think could be transformed into writing. And she surprises you with her metaphors, which are unlike anything else, and her ability to delve into the human soul, so much so that even as I translate her, an old thought that had come to my mind when I first read her years ago is renewed: saying that she is a woman before whom one turns into a scandal! The interesting thing in the text, without preempting the mystery, which the reader will discover for himself, is the Parisian atmosphere that the writer invites you into, giving you the chance to share with the characters their places, outings, gatherings, and dialogues as if you were one of them. Then the innovative ideas she will inspire in you as you see relationships being built before your eyes and disappointments following one after the other—each character seeking more than happiness: awareness of happiness. At first glance, it seems that the person has moved from the mold of a seeker of happiness to becoming happiness itself, and may also, for simple reasons, turn into someone else’s tragedy and destiny. And the characters possess all the qualities of peace and happiness if there were not a poor distribution of roles among them. It becomes clear that the tragedy is a game of a mocking fate, reminiscent to a large extent of Greek gods governed by their desires and interests, playing with granting to the undeserving and depriving those who deserve it. A theatrical plot in which Sagan excelled, closing her characters in a turbulent tragic space that was not devoid of drink, love, confusion, and the unknown.