In the great tradition of the painters, photographers, poets and writers of popular Paris – one thinks of Albert Marquet, Apollinaire, Aragon, Prévert, Hardellet, Doisneau, Robert Giraud – Baptiste-Marrey evokes the Bercy of his childhood where, each day, next to the large river, he was a spectator of the miracle of wine, of its commerce and of those who celebrated it or, rather, died of it. Some of these poems are as crystal-clear as a very fresh sauvignon, sometimes lively, funny and mocking. Others are more serious, resembling wines that make one ponder, all heavy with moving melancholy and grave beauty, in order to express words and time that pass by and that flee from us, lost faces, and the Large City that, we know, changes faster than the heart of a mortal.
Baptiste-Marrey was born in 1928 and has written about ten novels (all connected to one another by more or less visible threads), essays, and collections of poems.
L'auteur
Recevez notre newsletter pour ne rien rater de notre actualité
