Michel Houellebecq
Annientare

The new novel by Michel Houellebecq, Annientare, has made more than a few readers grimace. If we look at it closely, already Antonio Scurati (the author of the famous M) had criticized the previous Serotonin and some of the sharpest critics even argue that Houellebecq had said everything about his worldview with his first two novels Whatever and The Elementary Particles. I'm not so drastic: in my view, he has always had something to say and was also fortunate considering that his Submission (in which a win in the 2022 elections by a traditionalist and patriarchal Muslim party was foreshadowed) was released on January 7, 2015, simultaneously with the Charlie Hebdo attack. But I must admit that with this Annientare, certainly his most voluminous book given its over 700 pages, for the first time, even if only at times, I found myself bored. No doubt Houellebecq is always capable of keeping the reader's attention through his writing and his ability to characterize the characters, but the impression is that this time something is missing.

The protagonist is Paul Raison, the chief of staff at the Ministry of Economy and aide to the French state's finance minister, Bruno Juge (a caricature of minister Bruno La Maire) with whom he shares the failure of his married life. Paul lives a wealthy life in Paris but no longer shares even the fridge shelf with his wife Prudence, besides living in separate rooms. The novel is set in 2027 during the presidential campaign in which Bruno Juge (though not a candidate) is the main protagonist. The outgoing president seems instead a portrait of Macron. Meanwhile, a terrorist group carries out attacks against commercial ships, releasing videos on the Internet characterized by esoteric and satanic symbolism. One might think this is a political fiction saga (like in Submission), but this phantom group always remains in the background, and we actually learn nothing about its members. Indeed, at a certain point, in the final part, it is not even mentioned any further.

The real merit of Annientare lies in the description of a sort of "family saga" in Houellebecq's style. Paul Raison's family lives in Beaujolais, a region whose landscape is evocatively described by the French writer. Suddenly, Paul's father suffers a stroke and becomes disabled, and it is necessary to place him in a care home: this all becomes a cue for a discussion on the theme of euthanasia in the West. This story serves Houellebecq to tell us about his sister Cécile, a devoted Catholic, a good person with a kind heart who votes for the Rassemblement National like her husband Hervé, a notary and unemployed with ties to radical right-wing circles. He also turns out to be one of the best characters in the book. Then there is the younger brother Aurélien, a fragile personality and tapestry restorer, victim of a ruthless and domineering wife who will lead him to suicide. In the end, in conjunction with the presidential elections, Paul manages to reconcile with his wife Prudence, although the ending, in its melancholic sadness (perhaps the best part of the book), will be very bitter for him.

Ultimately, compared to other previous works including Serotonin that I liked, the book lacks a bit of punch, though it remains a pleasant and even engaging read. It perhaps lacks that dystopian and cynical view of the world (which, however, always emerges under the surface) typical of this author that led him to write memorable pages halfway between prose and essay. Still, if you love the French writer, read this Annientare too; some pages are worthy of the best Houellebecq, who remains one of the best writers of our time despite all the accusations leveled against him.