Georges Perec: A Life in Words

When I was choosing a graduate school, Princeton was clearly one of my top choices. Not only because it is a very old, historical, and important institution; not because it is the American university that has the best endowment per student ratio; certainly not because of the location (the town is cute, but expensive, and I prefer cities anyway); but rather because my potential advisor at Princeton was the translator and biographer of Georges Perec. Before going to interview, I read the chapters of this book that dealt with the texts that I knew, as well as excerpts of his translations. I wanted to be extremely prepared for my interview. We ended up talking about a different person's translation of a different Perec text, followed by some math jokes. Anyway, I have now finished the entire biography and I would highly recommend it to anyone who has ever read (or intends to read) Georges Perec. 

Perec's life was truly one in words, as David Bellos carefully demonstrates throughout the course of this biography. His name sounds quite French, Bellos notes at the beginning, a fact that is really just a happy coincidence produced by a history of misspellings and changes, all of which mirror Perec's own childhood and memory of it. You see, Perec's parents were Jewish immigrants. They left Poland and headed west, choosing to settle in France which was, at the time, a religious haven for European Jews. A country with a history of antisemitism, perhaps, but France also did not have any institutionalized bias against people of any religion. Jews didn't even need to register their religion anywhere. 

Perec grew up, therefore, the son of Jewish immigrants in France, but was nevertheless considered a full French citizen. However, World War II decimated his family unit—his father losing his life defending France from Nazi Occupation and his mother subsequently being deported to Auschwitz. Perec was raised by his aunt and uncle, never formally adopted, and throughout the war was taught to forget his Jewishness, which could have gotten him sent away as well (he was away in a Catholic boarding school). 

These beginnings would irrevocably characterize all of Perec's work as a writer. Themes of lost family, corrupted memories, hidden Jewishness, would pervade many of his works. But also, word games, multilingualism, and a sense of humor would contribute. In short, Perec as an author had an exceptionally craftsmanlike view of his craft—to clarify, he needed to write, and did so every day. Writing helped him understand his life and his history, the fabric of language itself, and the power of literature. 

Bellos' biography is as thorough as it is thought provoking. Consisting of both descriptions of Perec's life and readings of his books and how they were constructed, Georges Perec: A Life in Words is at once a gripping biography of one of France's most well-known 20th century authors and an indispensable tool for any Perec scholar. Its Index and Bibliography alone are some of the most complete catalogues of every paper Perec ever touched. But it is also a book that—as with Perec's novels themselves—touches on everything. It tells not only the story of Perec, but also gives a larger historical perspective, situates the author's life within a larger perspective, and is therefore just as historical as it is literary. Anyone who has read—and fallen in love with (as often happens)—Perec will do the same with this biography, I have no doubts.