Review Beaubourg, this great shaker of our lives, by Patrick Grainville – Liberation
On the occasion of the Paris Book Festival on April 11, 12 and 13, our journalists give way to authors for this 18th edition of the Libe of the writer. Find all the articles here.
I will no longer go to Beaubourg, the laurels are cut, the death that here is to collect them. We all took it for five years! Five years of closure of the Pompidou center. I will soon be 78 years old, you calculate, my return to Beaubourg will be at 83 years old! Nothing is therefore assured. How could they have made such a sharp and black decision? In such uncertain times. What about us? Dominant trio: good, beast and ugly? Five 5 years of misfortune? Beaubourg a whole life. I remember the time of the inauguration, in 1977, a few months after my price Goncourt. I had been interviewed on one of the escalators, and I had entered a lyrical song at this building whose guts as we know, big colonist, small intestine, python hoses, rectum, had been screened in the open air. I celebrated this bowels of entrails, this large vibratile glass, the new nave of fans.
I was even invited to a dinner in the building opposite, where we celebrated the refinery. I needed a youngster, it was me. Boulez and Xenakis, sworn enemies, occupied the places of honor. Boulez spoke; Xenakis was silent. Madame Pompidou and Madeleine Malraux were not far from me.
