“A quiet, fascinating meditation on art.”
Why do we create art? Is it merely a pastime, designed to rescue us from boredom, or is it perhaps the single most important vessel through which we filter our personal quandaries and understanding of the human condition? It’s a seemingly simple question with an answer that appears to be obvious, especially amongst those who engage with art for a living, either as those who create it or offer criticism and guidance. Yet the nature of art has remained ambiguous, especially considering we are possibly the only species that is impelled to create art. One of the true artists of her generation – and a key figure who helps us understand the role creativity plays in defining life’s most challenging questions – is Annie Ernaux, who is not only inarguably one of the greatest writers to emerge out of her native France, but a figure whose body of work exemplifies what it means to be an artist. Her fluid, striking prose has consistently made it clear that she has a firm grasp on the collective pulse of the human condition, her stories, both broad and specific, existing at the perfect intersection between personal and universal. Her work is also the subject of Writing Life: Annie Ernaux Through the Eyes of High School Students, in which Claire Simon spends some time with a selection of teenagers she found in the French school system, observing them as they participate in discussions on Ernaux’s work, critically engaging with some of her most notable novels. This is a quiet, fascinating meditation on art that exceeds the borders of traditional documentary and instead presents a more complex, thorough picture of the role art plays in describing and defining everyday life.
There are a number of common themes that we see emerging in conversations around Ernaux’s work, which is mostly drawn from her personal experiences and where she offers reflections on her life, as well as making observations about the world that surrounds her. Themes such as womanhood, sexuality, intimacy and identity interweave with broader discussions on class and gender, which become even more valuable when we consider that she came of age at a crucial point in 20th-century culture, her writing containing nuances that many contemporary writers would not dare to explore in fear of not having the accurate context or precise understanding. Writing Life dwells quite heavily on the themes of memory and reflection, which are key components of the writer’s work, and which guide so many of her potent observations. Her minimalist approach to describing her personal observations, which she does through the lens of autofiction, is well-defined under Simon’s approach, with the director highlighting her challenging narrative style and ability to provoke conversation through prose that is both delicate and devastating. Simon is very selective in what she chooses to explore – her reverence for Ernaux is clear, but she also avoids becoming too affectionate or familiar, refusing to dwell heavily on the author’s achievements. She only briefly mentions her accolades and accomplishments (such as her well-deserved Nobel Prize for Literature), choosing to instead engage with the core themes of Ernaux’s work, particularly in how it can often be entirely reinterpreted depending on the reader and their personal experiences.
The themes present at the heart of Writing Life are already resonant, but they do take on an additional meaning when we shift perspective away from the obvious intellectual locales and move them to another context. Her work assumes an entirely new meaning when we look at it from the perspective of younger readers, who may not be as knowledgeable about her writing as their older counterparts, yet still bring invaluable opinions into the conversation. The majority of this film takes place in classroom settings in which various students offer their interpretations and perceptions on the texts – this immediately indicates that Simon is intrigued by the idea of a democratic deconstruction of art, where every student’s views are equally important, and they are given the chance to critically engage with the material while surrounded by other students from all walks of life. The focus on high school students (as opposed to those at the university level) gives the film a youthful, energetic perspective, where it isn’t weighed down by dense layers of didactic discourse, but rather focuses on simpler but no less relevant discussions of what her writing means. In many ways, this approach breathes new life into works that are already tremendously compelling, the reflections of these students challenging common perceptions of Ernaux’s work, as well as providing additional emotional resonance that can sometimes be overlooked when focusing on our own interpretations of her incredibly poignant, deeply personal writing.
What differentiates good art from that which can change the world? Is it the works that dare and provoke, or those which instead inspire future generations to seek out their truths through artistic expression? In both their expansive bodies of work, Ernaux and Simon seek out answers to what is simultaneously a simple and impossible question. There are many moments in Writing Life where it seems like we are on the verge of encountering a solution, but one in particular stands out – one of the students passionately discusses her personal connection to the writer’s work while sitting on a bench, observing her environment. It’s a series of disjointed sentiments arranged into a poignant stream-of-consciousness monologue, by the end of which we realise that this young woman is likely going to become a writer herself. Ernaux’s work inspires her to not only express herself artistically, but contribute to discussions that have been ongoing for centuries, and which we won’t be close to resolving any time soon. Writing Life is not a fawning, affectionate tribute – instead, it is an account of one esteemed artist setting out to understand the mechanics behind the work of another, examining what it means when a work of art is handed from the artist to their audience. This is explored from the perspective of the next generation, who take on these texts (some of which were written as early as the 1970s) and redefine them in their own way, involving these young people in discussions that allow them to express themselves without judgment. This demonstrates that literature (and art in general) can speak to new generations, taking on fresh meaning while also providing valuable glimpses into the past, bringing these remarkable texts into a contemporary, youthful and potentially revolutionary new context.