Eric Mouzin
Eric Mouzin est expert en responsabilité civile pour des compagnies d’assurances...
RETROUVER ESTELLE
Parution :
05/01/2011
Collection :
Essais - Documents
FINDING ESTELLE
“Say it all. For a year, I blackened over two hundred pages with notes typed onto my computer in tightly bunched lines, recording thoughts and reminders on a dictaphone. For a year, at home, I gathered together letters, emails, newspaper articles, videos, DVDs and minutes of my meetings with judges; I scribbled down and dictated my memories, in a monotonous voice, always forbidding myself the least emotion. One tear, just one, would mean collapse. The only feeling I allow myself is anger. A cold anger, a calm revolt. The rest… I’m not allowed to go there. Not allowed to give in, to feel sorry for myself. There’s still so much to do. You can’t do and live at the same time. From the very first day I chose to do. And I suppressed living. On the evening of 9th January I stopped living.”
On 9th January 2003, between 6.30 and 6.45 pm, nine-year-old Estelle Mouzin disappeared on the way home from school. Since then, nothing. What happened to Estelle? Nearly eight years with no news, despite the work carried out by investigators and her father’s non-stop fight. Here for the first time, Eric Mouzin, agrees to open up. His account - which is free of pathos - is devastating. Between the lines lie voiceless rage and unspoken pain that are all the stronger for going unsaid.
No one has forgotten Estelle, the little girl in the red jumper, whose face with the slightly sad smile hung on the wall in every post-office, bakery, chemist shop… Eight years later, France still finds this story devastating. Every year, on the anniversary of her disappearance, the Association Estelle organises a “White March” in Guermantes.
Eric Mouzin is a civil liabilities expert for insurance companies. He lives at Le Vésinet, near Paris.
Véronique de Bure is an editor. She has written one novel, Une confession, published by Stock.
“Say it all. For a year, I blackened over two hundred pages with notes typed onto my computer in tightly bunched lines, recording thoughts and reminders on a dictaphone. For a year, at home, I gathered together letters, emails, newspaper articles, videos, DVDs and minutes of my meetings with judges; I scribbled down and dictated my memories, in a monotonous voice, always forbidding myself the least emotion. One tear, just one, would mean collapse. The only feeling I allow myself is anger. A cold anger, a calm revolt. The rest… I’m not allowed to go there. Not allowed to give in, to feel sorry for myself. There’s still so much to do. You can’t do and live at the same time. From the very first day I chose to do. And I suppressed living. On the evening of 9th January I stopped living.”
On 9th January 2003, between 6.30 and 6.45 pm, nine-year-old Estelle Mouzin disappeared on the way home from school. Since then, nothing. What happened to Estelle? Nearly eight years with no news, despite the work carried out by investigators and her father’s non-stop fight. Here for the first time, Eric Mouzin, agrees to open up. His account - which is free of pathos - is devastating. Between the lines lie voiceless rage and unspoken pain that are all the stronger for going unsaid.
No one has forgotten Estelle, the little girl in the red jumper, whose face with the slightly sad smile hung on the wall in every post-office, bakery, chemist shop… Eight years later, France still finds this story devastating. Every year, on the anniversary of her disappearance, the Association Estelle organises a “White March” in Guermantes.
Eric Mouzin is a civil liabilities expert for insurance companies. He lives at Le Vésinet, near Paris.
Véronique de Bure is an editor. She has written one novel, Une confession, published by Stock.
« Tout dire. Pendant un an, j’ai noirci plus de deux cents pages de notes recopiées dans mon ordinateur en lignes serrées, enregistré des réflexions ou des pense-bêtes sur mon dictaphone. Pendant un an, à la maison, j’ai rassemblé les courriers, les emails, les articles de presse, les cassettes vidéos, les DVD, les compte rendus de mes réunions chez les juges, j’ai griffonné et dicté les souvenirs, d’un ton monocorde, m’interdisant toujours la moindre émotion. Une larme, une seule, et ce serait l’effondrement. La seule émotion que je m’autorise, c’est la colère. Une colère froide, une révolte calme. Le reste, je n’ai pas le droit. Pas le droit de flancher, de m’attendrir sur moi-même. Il y a tant à faire, encore. On ne peut à la fois faire et être. Depuis le premier jour, j’ai choisi de faire. Et j’ai étouffé l’être. Depuis le soir du 9 janvier, je ne suis plus. »
Le 9 janvier 2003, entre 18h30 et 18h45, disparaissait Estelle Mouzin, neuf ans, sur le chemin du retour de l’école. Depuis, rien. Qu’est-il arrivé à Estelle ? Bientôt huit ans que l’on est sans nouvelles, malgré le travail des enquêteurs et le combat incessant d’un père. Pour la première fois, Éric Mouzin accepte de se confier. Un récit sans pathos, bouleversant. Et entre les lignes, une colère sourde, une douleur muette qui n’en est que plus forte.
180 pages
Format :
135 x 215 mm
EAN :
9782234063488
Prix :
18.00 €
