Since the production of certain aspects of a game follows a linear path, I need to now step up my reading of Duras’ novels. Because this is required for me to compile the text that the voice actors will read that needs to be recorded and processed and then implemented in the game. So now reading novels has become the highest priority on my to do list.

And since I’m reading them in the original language, and French is only my third language, this is a slow process. Especially some books require quite a bit of concentration. In fact I’m going to re-read Moderato Cantabile and L’Amour, before I decide on the final text for the game. Even though I’d love to still read Yann Andrea Steiner, Des journées entières dans les arbres and Le Square, and re-read L’Amant and La Maladie de la Mort. Duras has produced so much beautiful prose!

I have read, and will probably include quotes from Emily L., Dix heures et demie du soir en été, Le ravissement de Lol V. Stein, L’homme atlantique, La Douleur and L’amant de la Chine du Nord, next to Moderato Cantabile and L’Amour. The latter is especially interesting because it almost entirely takes place on a beach, a beach that has a lot of similarities with Trouville-sur-Mer, which we visited for this project the other day.

I have been “live-blogging” our short trip to Trouville-sur-Mer on Tumblr. Here’s my Trouville observations.

The contrast between nature and man is enormous at the seaside. There is the obvious difference in scale between the immense mass of water (playing with the moon of all things), a sky above that stretches out in all directions and the insignificant human body and the buildings and infrastructure created for its comfort. But what struck me even more is the inadequacy of the human senses when confronted with the raw natural elements.

Outside, there is too much noise to hear anything and too much light to see anything. It’s only when we find shelter in a café that we can use our senses again. Inside, we can hear and see.

This maps very nicely to the situation in Bientôt l’été. Outside, you are on your own, endlessly seeking, cold, exposed to the elements. And inside you find another human being, to see, to hear, to touch.

Another strange effect of the seaside is that spending time outside makes one dizzy. Maybe the sea air contains more oxygen or some other gas that affects us. Or it’s the continuous motion of the sea that gets to us. The waves, the clouds, the seagulls, the wind: all is in motion all the time, spinning around the poor human head. The roar of the ocean, the hissing of the wind and the shrieking of the gulls seem almost designed to drive a man mad. Not to mention the blinding light reflected by the enormous surfaces of sand and water.

Seeking refuge in a mundane man made establishment suddenly becomes refreshing, soothing. Nature may be beautiful, but it’s also terrible. We seek comfort with each other, warmth, love.

This afternoon we are leaving for a short trip to Trouville-sur-Mer, a small town on the coast of Normandy where Marguerite Duras lived for long periods of her life. Aspects of Trouville appear in several of her novels and films. The sea, the beach, the boardwalk, a villa, a hotel, a casino, seagulls. So this trip is a bit of a pilgrimage. Trouville is only 4 hours away from where we live in Belgium.

I’m sure the hearts of people who have read Duras skip a beat when I mention S. Thala and T. Beach. Places that recur in her novels, the descriptions of which reminds strongly of the pictures I have seen of Trouville.

Duras’ writing warms my heart so much. I want to share this. A lot of the subtle beauty of her work gets lost in translation (especially to English). I hope our little videogame can cross that U. Bridge at least a little bit.

Duras was not the only artist enamoured with the fishermen’s village turned tourist destination. The place also inspired Dumas, Proust, Monet and Flaubert. In fact, Duras lived in an apartment in the same building Proust had more than half a century before.

Places along a river or the sea play an important role in Duras’ work. Memories from her childhood along the Mekong delta in Saigon mix with experiences from old age at the seaside in Trouville. Along with people encountered or imagined, who all get similar names, as if they belong to the same family, or doll house in the writer’s mind. Climaxed by the strange mirroring of her teenage experience as the lover of a rich Chinese man in Saigon, in her own love affair with a young man in the last years of her life, here in Trouville. Both of which are described beautifully across several of her novels.

The weather report says it’s raining in Trouville. Perfect!