Death of the poet Frédéric Jacques Temple

Frédéric Jacques Temple died on Wednesday. It is as if lightning had fallen in Aujargues, in the Gard, where he had lived with his wife for a long time. The poet, novelist and translator would turn 99 in a few days. In retrospective anthology of his literary journey published in January (the Infinite Hunt and other poems, Gallimard), this poem sounds like an echo:

The month of my birth.
Invincible torpor
in heavy sweat.
The sour violin of the mosquito
pierces the soft night.
We must last
until the storm. ”

Born August 18, 1921 in Montpellier, Frédéric Jacques Temple (FJT) was the poet of life to the end, as he said, of existing, of looking at nature, of enjoying this planet. He often quoted his friend Joseph Delteil: “Every morning is the world’s first morning.”

“Depths of the Earth”

Young, FJT is attentive to nature, in its games in the plant garden of Montpellier and in the family house by the sea which will be “Buried” under the “False pyramids” from La Grande-Motte. The land of his childhood will be part of the material of his works. “I was born in a“ peasant ”environment and land. I don’t mean to say that my parents were peasants, but that my great-grandparents still were. I spent my childhood close to nature, attending sowing, plowing, harvesting, shearing sheep. I fished and hunted in the coastal marshes, in the midst of wild birds, familiar to fishermen on ponds and the sea. Between 15 and 19 years old, I even explored the depths of the earth, caves, sinkholes. . In these experiences, I relived in a way like our distant ancestors, attentive to the sounds, the smells, the movements of this earth rolling under the sun and the stars. ”

Frédéric Jacques Temple with Lawrence Durrell, in the studios of Radio Montpellier, in 1960. Photo Midi Libre. Zola Montpellier 3M central media library

In 1942, he left for Algiers with his family, notably frequenting the bookstore of Edmond Charlot, the publisher of Albert Camus, who also published it, and also worked alongside Max-Pol Fouchet, Emmanuel Roblès and Jean Sénac. From 1943 to 1946, Frédéric Jacques Temple participated in the Italian Campaign, the landing in Provence and ended the war in Austria. This experience, “fracture”, marks it deeply, as evidenced by the Route of San Romano and his War poems. «We would have preferred not to do it at an age when it is the moment for man to enjoy life. Its stupidity, its horror, mark with a hot iron those who made it. “ He then embarked on journalism in Morocco, responsible for the literary pages of a weekly. After chronicling Black spring, he begins a correspondence with Henry Miller which will last until the death of the American writer in 1980. Man of letters, Frédéric Jacques Temple will maintain correspondence with Cendrars, Richard Aldington, Nino Frank, René Maran, Cilette Ofaire, George Dibbern … He donated his archives to the Montpellier media library. “It was a coincidence: I never tried to meet writers. With Cendrars, as with Durrell or Miller, we hardly ever spoke of literature ”, he said, modestly, to Release in 2012. While adding with regret that he had missed Jean Ray, who died the day before their meeting or Sylvia Beach, the day before…

“Brother Jacques”

Returning to France in 1948, he worked for the regional radio station and was appointed director of French television broadcasting for Languedoc-Roussillon in 1954, where he remained until 1986.

By 1940 he had started writing and publishing. “My first poems, I should say my stammerings, appeared in 1940, in local pages from Montpellier, such as The Scream, student newspaper, or Students’ Echo, then directed by René Barjavel… Awakened me to poetry, without my knowledge, poets who were mentioned or studied during my school years. I can cite a few: Rutebeuf, Villon, Ronsard, La Fontaine, Hugo. Later, it was Baudelaire, Heredia, Rimbaud. And even later, Apollinaire then Cendrars and Valery Larbaud. ” His literary admirations went to adventure novelists, Jules Verne, Fenimore Cooper, Joseph Conrad, Herman Melville, but also to François Rabelais, François Villon, Chateaubriand, Walt Whitman, Jack London, Arthur Rimbaud, Cendrars he met in 1949. He reread them. regularly, like pets. Besides Blaise Cendrars and Henry Miller, he forged strong friendships with Lawrence Durrell who lived near his home in Sommières, Curzio Malaparte, Richard Arlington, Mohammed Dib, Jean Giono, Pierre Soulages or Georges Brassens. He was one of the last living in a whole era.

Read also Miller, the friendly life

“Brother Jacques” as Henry Miller called him was a poet apart, with an autobiographical vein, happy verve and rippling prose. “The appetite of the world could have made a naturalist or an archaeologist out of a poet who refuses to separate formal experimentation from lived experience. Man of dialogue, he keeps away from literary quarrels and tastes “the sovereign thickness of time” more than the ruptures of antitradition. To submissive allegiance he prefers a lineage that integrates and, without recognizing himself as role models, he does not travel alone. ” (Claude Leroy, Dictionary of Poetry from Baudelaire to the present day, PUF). Grand Prize for Poetry of the SGDL in 2003 and Guillaume Apollinaire Prize in 2013, he had published with various publishers (Actes Sud, Obsidiane, etc.). He who would never have stopped celebrating happiness in the world without this final meeting, still has a collection that comes out in this native and fatal August at Bruno Doucey, By the sextant of the sun. “For eternal exile, I will carry the burning smell of the grasses trampled by the hooves on the endless drailles rustling with cowbells.”

Frederique Roussel


80 years ago, a poem of Kipling in the face of the nazis entering Paris

The Cross : What happened on June 14, 1940, at the Museum of Man ?

André Delpuech : This morning, the director of the Musée de l’homme, Paul Rivet, takes the initiative to post on the door a poem by the british writer Rudyard Kipling, published in 1885, entitled Thou shalt be a man, my son “, which ends by the famous verse : “If you can keep your courage and your head/When all others lose/Then the Kings, the Gods, the Chance and the Victory/ Will be forever your submissive slaves, / And, which is better than the Kings and Glory / and Thou shalt be a man, my son. “

This act of resistance, on the day of the entry of the Germans in Paris, marked the spirits. Paul Rivet is a physician, anthropologist and américaniste, a former member of the popular Front. He has been engaged in the renovation of the Museum of the Trocadero in 1938, which became the Museum of Man, where then work fifty researchers and technicians, specialists in anthropology and ethnology.

For this director’s iconic, the role of science is to raise awareness and alert on the dangers that threaten society. As early as 1934, while Hitler has been appointed chancellor the previous year in Germany, he founded, together with the physicist Paul Langevin and the philosopher Alain, the Committee of vigilance of the intellectual antifascists.

Paul Rivet located in the museum of German-jewish exiles, and Russian émigrés, including the ethnographer, Boris Vildé and the linguist Anatole Lewitsky. On July 14, 1940, he published an open letter to marshal Petain in which he is critical of the regime with a vengeance, which earned him to be relieved of his duties. Put in danger, he left Paris on 11 February 1941 and joined the British, escaping a police raid of the Gestapo to 24 hours.

That started Paul Rivet at the Museum of Man ?

A. D. : A resistance network is in place as of the summer of 1940 under the leadership of Boris Vildé, Anatole Lewitsky and the librarian Yvette Odo. It is one of the first groups clandestine struggle against the Nazis to appear in occupied France. Around this core revolve of individuals with strong character that the writer Jean Cassou, the journalist Pierre Brossolette, the art historian Agnès Humbert, or Sylvette Leleu, the owner of a garage in Béthune.

The group is working with small units spread throughout the territory by participating in the escape of prisoners and the collection of information. It plays an important role in the information of the Parisians misled by the propaganda of the Vichy regime by publishing in December 1940 the diary Resistance from information from the BBC and an informant working at the embassy of the United States.

In 1941, as reported, Boris Vildé, Yvette Oddon and Anatole Lewitsky are incarcerated. It was then that Germaine Tillon, anthropologist, specialist of the Berbers of Algeria, takes over a part of the museum’s activities. In January 1942, following the trial of these resistant that the press calls the” Case of the Museum of Man “ten of the defendants are sentenced to death, the leaders of the network Boris Vildé and Anatole Lewitsky. Yvonne Oddon finally being deported to Ravensbrück concentration camp. Seven men are executed by firing squad at Mont-Valérien in 1942. On 13 August, Germaine Tillon is stopped to turn and then deported in 1943 to Ravensbrück concentration camp. It is the end of the network at the Museum of Man.

How it resonates with the world today ?

A. D. : The men and women of the network of the Museum of Man have continued to fight to defend the freedom of thought, access to knowledge and the equality of peoples. Since its reopening and its complete redesign in 2015, the Museum of Man continues the missions laid down by its first director : to defend a message of humanist and universalist, and to fight obscurantism.

Through his exhibitions (such as “We and the other, from prejudice to racism “ in 2017-2018), and based on science, the Museum allows one to see the unity of the human species in its diversity so that the public can better understand it.


After the scandal with the blockade, Olga Buzova angered with her appearance on May 9

Olga Buzova’s next venture provoked a new flood of popular anger. The leading singer angered the Russians with her appearance. But the public has not forgotten the scandalous tricks of the TV star, when she, sitting in a swimsuit at the table, licked a plate with the words “I’m a blockade.”

Olga Buzova on the occasion of May 9, I decided to talk about the feat of my great-grandfathersthan incredibly inspired her fans. However, then she began to publish photos and videos on which posed in a military uniform with bright makeup with a cap on his head. The artist threw a nurse’s handbag over her shoulder, and held a dandelion in her manicured fingers.

Olga Buzova went to the forest for a bright photo

“May 9th is the main, holy date in the life of each of us. This is a day of immense pride in the feat of true heroes who, without sparing life, defended our Motherland! We will forever keep in our hearts the memory of their courage! Thanks to you, we live 75 years under a peaceful sky! Tears of happiness for the Great Victory pour out of my eyes and tears of grief for those who are gone … “, reads the caption to the photo.

Great holiday

Wherein take off gold and platinum bracelets Buzova did not guess. Or did not consider it necessary. She read the poem Wind of War by Stepan Kadashnikov in memory of those killed at the front, and then presented with her boyfriend David Manukyan a cover for the song “Cranes”.

This finally infuriated users of the social network. They began to leave indignant messages, recalling the actress and the recent scandal with the blockade, and the glamorous Mother of God, and embarrassment at Epiphany.

Cranes.Premiere cover, 2020

“They don’t go to make-up in the war!”, “Show-off!”, “What are you doing again?”, “Have you tried any less makeup?”, “Why are you doing carnival on this day?”, “I made up and came to the forest for a photo “,” Cheap masquerade “,” This is called Spanish shame when she does it, but we are all ashamed “,” Very funny, you need to remove the bracelets, “the fans are indignant.

We are for peace … For love … May the war never return again …

Olga never responds to criticism and indignation of fans. Her favorite hate phrase: “The dog barks, and the caravan goes.”

Olga Buzova: from a cleaning lady to a millionaire.Who doesn’t know Buzova? Everyone knows Olya. Some love her, while others hate her. Sometimes it seems that there is simply no one indifferent to the ex-participant of “House-2” …


Monday poetry: today there is no more Spring (but the books remain)

We were first delighted that no poetry event or almost no more than 100 people, the Spring of poets was not going to be affected by the restrictions that affected the world of entertainment. Alas, now it’s everyone at home, and everything is canceled.

From Spring, there are only the two anthologies published on the occasion around the theme a little catch-all of courage. Let us rejoice: as last year, they are both rich and exciting. The book published by Bruno Doucey brings together 88 authors around “ten variations on courage and a song of resistance”, we find Margaret Atwood, Andrée Chedid, Jacques Darras, Charles Juliet, Yvon Le Men, Nimrod, Carl Norac … The Astral Beaver aligns 84 poets, including Adonis, Olivier Barbarant, Rim Battal, singer Cali, Brigitte Fontaine, the disappeared Antoine Emaz, Joseph Ponthus … Most of these texts are unpublished. In any case, they are excellent for taking the pulse of contemporary creation. “The struggles of literary schools and the“ terrorism ”of theoretical chapels have become rare. The creation appears in fact of an astonishing diversity and richness ”, observes Jean-Yves Reuzeau in the preface to the book published in the Astral Castor. “Perhaps we will even realize one day that this era was of vitality and exceptional variety”.

We have chosen for this Monday a poem by Michèle Finck, present in the collection of Beaver. Michèle Finck has just published On a straw piano, published by Arfuyen. The text below is unpublished.


Tough dictation today is difficult
Monotonous of the sea. Don’t understand
What she dictates in her foam walrus
Acre. The right ear believes
Hear: “God exists”. The ear
Left (finer?) Hears: “God
Does not exist “. No
Today on the theater
Metaphysics of the sea: nothing.
But suddenly (where did this beach come from?
Isolated?) A very small child
Still on all fours is approaching me.
Almost missed seeing it because of the battery
From my sheets that litter the wet sand.
Would he bring me something in his hand
Closed? A rock ? A shell ?
Looks at me in silence and in a twitch sighs
With a very soft sea noise in the throat.
Suddenly opens his tiny hand. She is
Empty. But already comes closer to me.
Looks at me and whispers: “Dobre” “Dobre”.
To look at it. Perplexed. Whisper again
Accentuating the first syllable like a note
Outfit : “Dobre” “Dobre”. Suddenly
Tears come to my eyes. Would that be the word
Searched so much? Given by a small child
Russian on this wild Corsican beach where there is
Never anyone. Maybe it’s the only one
Formula ? Whether God exists or does not exist
Not articulate: “Dobre” “Dobre” ? Say
“Candy” would not be the word
Fair. “Dobre” “Dobre”. Yes the word
Just is always given by the other
In another language. God that you exist
Or not: “Dobre” “Dobre” ?
Comes running bicycle or motorcycle helmet
Handmade earphones to the ears a young girl
Coming from elsewhere. Light. She reaches out
Towards the child, humming: “Dobre” “Dobre”.
Then their winged duo roams off:
“Dobre” “Dobre” “Dobre”.
And I jazz up life as they teach me
Syncopating rhythmic syllables in their own way:
“Dobre” “Dobre” “Dobre”

We, with the poem as our only courage, ed. the Astral Beaver, 296 pages, 15 euros

Guillaume Lecaplain


“A hydroalcoholic orgy of gel”: an unpublished poem by Pierre Vinclair

The sonnet? A “A damn little craft item that you can shamelessly offer to someone” : “It reads quickly, it melts in your mouth. It’s really a devilishly efficient poetic machine ”, said Pierre Vinclair last year at Released, on the occasion of the release of his collection Without address. As an extension of this process, a “Addendum” to his book, he explains, the poet, now moved to London, sent us a poem of occasion.

Viral sonnet

Rather than the confined cinema, it’s at the park
that we go, crossing, all serious, from Sainsbury
came, people loaded with heaps of PQ
triple thickness, soft at the anus of the mind,

irritated. Children spur their joy
contagious on the slide, knowing that they
can brush their palms, then their fingers
in a hydroalcoholic orgy of gel.

This morning, at the post office, a smoking hipster
coming in when I went out, pointed his revolver
bacteriological towards me: cough! cough! cough!

in extremis I escaped the tragic ball,
because while having fun with what I was going to do,
I held my breath and wiped my cheeks.

Note that two books by Pierre Vinclair, the Savagery and Act not act. Elements for a poetry of ecological resistance, will be released in April at José Corti’s.

Pierre Vinclair


Monday poetry: today, “the world capsizes”

Why does Bernard Chambaz write so much? It is “Because I’m still alive”, he replied end of January on this subject on France Culture. Just a few months after his last novel, Another Eden, he publishes a collection of poems with a title as short as intriguing: And. His two previous works of poetry played the same score: they were titled Summer (two volumes, in 2005 then 2010) and etc. (2016).

And is in any case a continuation ofAnother Eden : like him, he seems to exist “To restore a semblance of life, of survival, to those whom we could call our missing”. In And, Bernard Chambaz pays tribute to the dead: his cousin Denis, the writer Mathieu Bénézet (“the elder brother”) or the slightly older deceased: Kerouac (who then infuses the language of Chambaz in a jazz bath) or even Nerval, romantic poet and suicide “That I would have liked to take in my arms”. The set, which also gives variations on the shape of the sonnet, is more solar than morbid, exploring both the author’s daily life and his intact intimacy with the missing.

Here is the third poem from “Exponential”, the second part of And.


pōnere: Latin verb
what do we deposit? it depends.
arms. life. sorrow.
paintings. your bra and then
the world capsizes.
olives in the sun. a crown on your head
a book as an offering or as
stake of a bet
lost in advance
if we bet on perpetual motion
step on a bridge to step over
the sea. mortals
in the ancestral boat that drops us off
to the ponant

Bernard Chambaz, And, Flammarion editions, 162 pages, 18 euros.

Guillaume Lecaplain