When we think of punk, we first think of the music. However, punk literature has its icons (Lydia Lunch, Kathy Acker, David Wojnarowicz), themes (despair, extreme experiences), and style (crucified language, compulsion for repetition, fragmentation of forms). It struggles to break through in France because our country has a taste for pretty phrases and polished structures.
Céline was yet punk – without the political coloration. And the genre has been spreading since the 1980s. Destroy has become cool. Virginie Despentes brought it into the literary world: she spits her titles in our faces and rejects the system, yet her punchlines appeal to the media.
In the shadow of the celebrated, there are rebels not yet tamed. JB Hanak is one of them. Once known as a musician – he shouted his inaudible phrases over the infernal loops of dDamage – he made a thunderous entrance into the world of books with “Sales chiens” (Léo Scheer, 2022).
He recounted his furious tours with his brother, whose imminent death provided a dramatic counterpoint. The urgency of writing imitated that of concerts, then the incredible races of the squabble. The novel was valued for its hallucinatory depiction of an unknown milieu in the literary world, that of hardcore music, as well as for the tension worthy of a Safdie brothers film.
He repeats with “Bâtards,” which could be a sequel if it didn’t go back in time, focusing on an episode in the group’s life, a Japanese tour. The author doesn’t just sell new anecdotes: he steps back to leap forward, deepening the portrait of this brother he misses so much, explaining where his passion for music comes from, delving deep into childhood memories within a working-class family marked by the hardness of work and cultural schizophrenia.
Do not fear short paragraphs, bare sentences, or the abundance of sayings. The novel conceals a true document on Japan. This society ruled by rules and rituals could exasperate our desperado duo. Nothing could be further from the truth: beneath the manic surface lie the fierce energies of a youth ready for conflict. The group sows its concerts in improbable places as cathartic acts.
The outbursts are numerous, leading to memorable scenes – nocturnal illuminations, conflicts in the midst of loves and hostilities. Drug legislation, relationship management, noise economy in the city, these are perceptive and well-balanced vignettes.
The author has a unique way of speaking about music. He sprinkles in specific references – harsh noise, hardcore techno, breakcore. He describes the intensifying madness of noise in confined spaces. Each concert aims to be a collective prayer, a gradual unraveling towards the effacement of consciousness.
The musician-narrator finds an opportunity to release the tensions he holds about his youth and his relationship with this brother who haunts him. This is where the metaphor of the dog, running through both works, finds its source: Ourko is this imaginary dog that accompanies the sick brother, protects him, and expresses his feelings.
The tour continues, the squabbles unfold, the crescendo evolves towards a finale of love and violence. The reader then realizes that punk is a form of romanticism: beneath the screams, beneath the avalanche of beats and substances, lie persistent desires for tranquility and the absolute.
Release date: April 11.
