Sur les chemins noirs 9782072714832 Books
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Sur les chemins noirs 9782072714832 Books
…is 16 days wide and 25 days long. I learned that factoid from Gillian Tindall’s excellent book on rural France Celestine: Voices from a French Village. Those units of measure refer to the optimum way of seeing the country – walking. Regrettably, they seem to be a Napoleonic measure, with the implications of a forced march, with little time left to “smell the roses.” I recently watched again the movie Forrest Gump, principally to see those famous scenes where he decided going out for an extended walk (actually, a run) would be the best therapy, with a classic ending to the run in Monument Valley (AZ). Based on an excellent recommendation, I learned that Sylvian Tesson combined these two disparate threads. He decided the therapy that he needed was a good walk across France. Not just any walk, mind you, but one on the “Chemins noirs,” the black paths.Tesson is a famous French author, with numerous books to his credit, set in many of the wonderful locales of the world. One of his best known works concerns his stay in a log cabin in Siberia. Another – hum – is entitled ‘a life sleeping outside’. He was at a dinner party which was “bien arrosé,” a bit too much booze, and he took up the challenge to climb the wall of the house. He fell some eight to ten meters, and was seriously injured, spending numerous months in the hospital and rehab. He indicated that the medical staff was not “judgmental,” a sentiment that resonated with my own experience eating a poison mushroom in Finland.
Though still in pain, and with a distorted face – stroke-like, he decided his own best rehab would be a walk across France, from south to north. He started in Tende, in extreme southeastern France, on the border with Italy, and walked all the way to the tip of the Cotentin Peninsula, on La Manche (the English Channel.) He planned his walk in order to experience the “hyper-rurality” of France, and notes that 30 of its 96 departements are officially classified as such. He went across the Mercantour, the south side of Mount Ventoux, crossed the Rhone, into the Massif Central, then the Berry, Touraine, Mayenne, Mount St. Michel and up the west coast of Cotentin. It would take him 76 days, from August 24 to November 08, 2015 (an ideal time of year for such a hike).
“Mon grand jeu” is what Tesson calls it. My great game, to stay on what he calls the black paths, that is, the unmarked ancient trails of man and animals, far removed from the (beloved) Grandes Randonnées, the well-marked “superhighways” of hiking in Europe. It recalled the efforts of William Least-Heat Moon, in Blue Highways: A Journey into America, with his vow to stay off the interstates in traveling around America. An operative definition of the unmarked black paths, as Tesson mentions, is that the brush closes in behind you after you pass. Another personal deficiency he felt his hike would remedy: he had seen Samarkand long before he had experienced Indre et Loire. He does have a map, which he says he carries over his heart, as a “laissez-passe” of his dreams, as though it was a picture of his fiancée.
Tesson does violate one of the premises of his hike – big time, even, but I think the reader is much the wiser for it. He vows to see the earth like a wild animal, and not through literature, or, as he says: “to enjoy the sun without evoking de Stael.” Yet, of the many works that Tesson introduced me to is Braudel’s L'identité de la France, which attempts to explain how the lace-makers of Cambrai, and the pastis drinkers of Provence became one country. He digs at the “enaraques,” such as Jean-Marc Ayrault, who, in the early days of the 5th Republic, vowed to end what they considered the backwardness of the rural areas, and incorporate them into “modern” France. He ruminates on the 60-year old Americans who are biking around Mt. Ventoux, and flying in hot air balloons above the Loire valley. And in the Lure Mountains he comes across a hermit who is reading his book on his stay in the log cabin in Siberia!
Friends join him for part of the trip, and that includes his sister who received a rude introduction to the outdoors, compliments of some hornets. But that might have been the greatest danger that he faced, which is in sharp contrast to Hervé Gourdel, a 55 year old French mountaineer whose was executed by Islamic fanatics when he was hiking in the Kabylie (Algeria) in 2014. Tesson pays homage to his memory.
Tesson may be a bit too Luddite for my tastes, but I agree that we all need some time away from the computer screens. And I think I’ll prefer a roof over my head after a long day’s hike. But he is most inspirational, for all, including those who STILL have not experience Indre et Loire, nor George Sand’s Berry. 5-stars, plus.
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Sur les chemins noirs 9782072714832 Books Reviews
An injured young man, the author, walks his way across France, seeking unravelled paths and inner peace.
…is 16 days wide and 25 days long. I learned that factoid from Gillian Tindall’s excellent book on rural France Celestine Voices from a French Village. Those units of measure refer to the optimum way of seeing the country – walking. Regrettably, they seem to be a Napoleonic measure, with the implications of a forced march, with little time left to “smell the roses.” I recently watched again the movie Forrest Gump, principally to see those famous scenes where he decided going out for an extended walk (actually, a run) would be the best therapy, with a classic ending to the run in Monument Valley (AZ). Based on an excellent recommendation, I learned that Sylvian Tesson combined these two disparate threads. He decided the therapy that he needed was a good walk across France. Not just any walk, mind you, but one on the “Chemins noirs,” the black paths.
Tesson is a famous French author, with numerous books to his credit, set in many of the wonderful locales of the world. One of his best known works concerns his stay in a log cabin in Siberia. Another – hum – is entitled ‘a life sleeping outside’. He was at a dinner party which was “bien arrosé,” a bit too much booze, and he took up the challenge to climb the wall of the house. He fell some eight to ten meters, and was seriously injured, spending numerous months in the hospital and rehab. He indicated that the medical staff was not “judgmental,” a sentiment that resonated with my own experience eating a poison mushroom in Finland.
Though still in pain, and with a distorted face – stroke-like, he decided his own best rehab would be a walk across France, from south to north. He started in Tende, in extreme southeastern France, on the border with Italy, and walked all the way to the tip of the Cotentin Peninsula, on La Manche (the English Channel.) He planned his walk in order to experience the “hyper-rurality” of France, and notes that 30 of its 96 departements are officially classified as such. He went across the Mercantour, the south side of Mount Ventoux, crossed the Rhone, into the Massif Central, then the Berry, Touraine, Mayenne, Mount St. Michel and up the west coast of Cotentin. It would take him 76 days, from August 24 to November 08, 2015 (an ideal time of year for such a hike).
“Mon grand jeu” is what Tesson calls it. My great game, to stay on what he calls the black paths, that is, the unmarked ancient trails of man and animals, far removed from the (beloved) Grandes Randonnées, the well-marked “superhighways” of hiking in Europe. It recalled the efforts of William Least-Heat Moon, in Blue Highways A Journey into America, with his vow to stay off the interstates in traveling around America. An operative definition of the unmarked black paths, as Tesson mentions, is that the brush closes in behind you after you pass. Another personal deficiency he felt his hike would remedy he had seen Samarkand long before he had experienced Indre et Loire. He does have a map, which he says he carries over his heart, as a “laissez-passe” of his dreams, as though it was a picture of his fiancée.
Tesson does violate one of the premises of his hike – big time, even, but I think the reader is much the wiser for it. He vows to see the earth like a wild animal, and not through literature, or, as he says “to enjoy the sun without evoking de Stael.” Yet, of the many works that Tesson introduced me to is Braudel’s L'identité de la France, which attempts to explain how the lace-makers of Cambrai, and the pastis drinkers of Provence became one country. He digs at the “enaraques,” such as Jean-Marc Ayrault, who, in the early days of the 5th Republic, vowed to end what they considered the backwardness of the rural areas, and incorporate them into “modern” France. He ruminates on the 60-year old Americans who are biking around Mt. Ventoux, and flying in hot air balloons above the Loire valley. And in the Lure Mountains he comes across a hermit who is reading his book on his stay in the log cabin in Siberia!
Friends join him for part of the trip, and that includes his sister who received a rude introduction to the outdoors, compliments of some hornets. But that might have been the greatest danger that he faced, which is in sharp contrast to Hervé Gourdel, a 55 year old French mountaineer whose was executed by Islamic fanatics when he was hiking in the Kabylie (Algeria) in 2014. Tesson pays homage to his memory.
Tesson may be a bit too Luddite for my tastes, but I agree that we all need some time away from the computer screens. And I think I’ll prefer a roof over my head after a long day’s hike. But he is most inspirational, for all, including those who STILL have not experience Indre et Loire, nor George Sand’s Berry. 5-stars, plus.
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