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据路透社,他去世是在7日。
以下是纽约时报的消息:
Claude Simon, Champion of New Novel and Nobel Laureate, Dies at 91
By MARLISE SIMONS
Published: July 10, 2005
PARIS, July 9 - Claude Simon, the French writer who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1985 and is best remembered for his place in the so-called nouveau roman movement, died on Wednesday, his publisher said Saturday. He was 91.
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European Pressphoto Agency
Claude Simon, the French novelist, in an undated photograph.
Forum: Books
His publishing house, Éditions de Minuit, said the author was buried Saturday in Paris.
Mr. Simon wrote more than a dozen novels, which many readers found challenging because he often ignored literary conventions like narrative structure or plot.
His earliest books, like "The Swindler," "The Wind," "The Grass" and "The Flanders Road," sought not so much to tell a story but to weave webs of words and associations that had no apparent relationship but tumbled along, one description leading to the next.
In its citation, the Nobel committee said Mr. Simon\'s work combined "the poet\'s and the painter\'s creativeness with a deepened awareness of time in the depiction of the human condition."
His novels drew on Mr. Simon\'s experiences during the Spanish Civil War and World War II and, after the fall of France, in the Resistance,
Mr. Simon said that he had drawn inspiration from the style of novelists like William Faulkner and Marcel Proust.
Born in Antanarivo, Madagascar, then a French colony, he grew up in Perpignan in southern France. He studied in Paris and at Oxford and Cambridge Universities.
But he spent much of his life not only writing but also growing wine grapes in the area of his youth on the slopes of the French Pyrenees.
Beyond words, he sought other ways to express himself. He briefly tried painting and eventually published a book of his own photographs.
Although he said he had nothing to say, "no important truth of a social, historical or sacred nature" to tell, he kept writing and defending his own disjointed style. He mocked complaints that, as he put them, "I am a difficult, boring, unreadable, confused writer," and recalled that the same reproaches had "always been leveled at any artist who even to the slightest degree upsets acquired habits and the established order of things."
"Let us wonder, instead, at the way in which the grandchildren of those people who in impressionist paintings once saw nothing but shapeless, that is illegible daubs, today form endless queues outside exhibitions and museums to admire the works of those same daubers."
He said that if poets were allowed some freedom of language, why would it be refused to prose writers, why would they have to tell tales while ignoring all other aspects of the nature of language. "Those who reproach my novels for having neither a beginning nor an end," he once said, "are perfectly correct."
His literary career lasted over 50 years, with many of his novels seen as dense and demanding, some others, like his autobiographical "The Jardin des Plantes" (1997) more accessible.
Reviewing that book in The Los Angeles Times, Thomas McGonigle said the author provoked readers "to either rage or adulation." Describing the "typographically complex pages," he said this could be expected from a writer "who threw out all the standard narrative pegs and frames of storytelling to renovate that baggy monster, the novel."
"The Flanders Road," published in 1960, made Mr. Simon\'s name internationally and is widely considered his masterpiece.
It is a description of the French military collapse in 1940 in which Simon himself took part as a cavalry man and ended up as a prisoner of the Germans. His war experiences in World War II and during the Spanish Civil War where he fought on the Republican side in 1936 often recurred in his work.
Writing about another Simon book, "The Independent," the critic Towheed Feroze called the writer "an enigma." "He wanted to play with the readers minds, he wanted to scar the orthodox beliefs, he craved to open a new, unexplored dimension," he wrote.
Mr. Simon was frequently called upon to explain his need to create a new literary model and to break with earlier literary and intellectual traditions, while scoffing at established literary practice. He objected, he said, to the writer\'s role "as a kind of decoding machine" whose job it is to deliver "amiable or terrifying tales of adventure."
His form of disorderly writing in an accumulation of words, descriptions, impressions and fragments, he said in one of his speeches, is closer to life. He cited Tolstoy, who said, "A man in good health is all the time thinking, feeling and recalling an incalculable number of things at once."
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