La promesse de l'aube (Promise at Dawn) Book

This was not the first time I've read a memoir written by a man where the story revolves not only around himself, but also around his mother. I still remember reading Nicholas Gage's "Eleni" where I had the urge to go to Greece and visit the grave of Eleni, Mr. Gage's mother. Frank McCourt's mother wasn't dead yet at the end of "Angela's Ashes" but the story was well-crafted and she was so heroic there that I wasted no time finding out what happened later in "'Tis." In both "Eleni" and "Angela's Ashes" the power was in the stories themselves. Of course, both Messrs. Gage and McCourt are excellent writers and one can say that even the best plot, if narrated badly, ends up an insipid tale not worth telling. But "Promise at Dawn" may be an exception to this. I feel that even a less than sterling narration would not be able to mess up the great story that is in here. It has the tragedy of "Eleni," the humor of "Angela's Ashes," the pathos of both, and more. It has prophecy, the promise at dawn. Gary (real name Romain Kacew) and his mother were poor Russians. His father abandoned them immediately after Gary was born. He became his mother's reason for living and the sole meaning of all her painful struggles. Remember McCourt seeing his mother beg for food in "Angela's Ashes"? Here, Gary recalls having beefsteak during lunchtime when he was a young boy, his mother happily watching him while he eats. She says she can't eat the same because she's on a diet. One day, after he had eaten, he saw his mother hungrily eating her bread after wiping bits thereof upon the leftover sauce and oil of his beefsteak. He left her and wept.

His mother has high hopes for him and is sure he would be successful someday. Gary is only about 8 years old but she tells everyone that they will live in France; her son will become famous; he will be a French Ambassador, write books, win the Nobel Prize for literature and will have his suits made in London. This exuberant pride was a constant embarassment to the young Gary. Eerily, all these became true except the winning of the Nobel Prize (Gary did win, however, France's highest literary award, the Prix Goncourt, TWICE--the only person to do so).

And what great writing especially if, like myself, you read it in the original French!--

"Avec l'amour maternel, la vie vous fait a l'aube une promesse qu'elle ne tient jamais. On est oblige ensuite de manger froid jusqu'a la fin de ses jours. Apres cela, chaque fois qu'une femme vous prend dans ses bras et vous serre sur son coer, ce ne sont pllus que des condoleances. On revient toujours gueuler sur la tombe de sa mere comme un chien abandonne. Jamais plus, jamais plus, jamais plus. Des bras adorables se referment autour de votre cou et des levres tres douces vous parlent d'amour, mais vous etes au courant. Vous etes passe a la source tres tot et vous avez tout bu. Lorsque la soif vous reprend, vous avez beau vous jeter de tous cotes, il n'y a plus de puits, il n'y a que des mirages. Vous avez fait, des la premiere lueur de l'aube, une etude tres serree de l'amour et vous avez sur vous de la documentation. Partout ou vous allez, vous portez en vous le poison des comparaisons et vous passez votre temps a attendre ce que vous avez deja recu."

Too bad that after all his successes in life Mr. Gary shot himself to death on 2 December 1980, a year after his second wife, the beautiful actress Jean Seberg, had committed suicide. Ms Seberg was said to have been unfaithful, having affairs with other men like Warren Beatty, Clint Eastwood, etc. This proved, once more, that even as a mother's love can bring a man to the gate of heaven, a wife's love can drag him back to the depths of hell.

Touche!