As any literary award it is time it is time

Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio is the fourteenth in the list. The 14th French writer to receive the Nobel Prize in literature since its inception. As evidence, he joined Mistral, Bergson, Gide, Mauriac, Camus, Saint - John Persia, Sartre (who refused), and its two predecessors Claude Simon (1985) and Gao Xingjian (in 2000). It's been years, said that his name was mentioned in Stockholm. It could be distinguished for a long time, it was yesterday only. Sixty-eight years. The Academy chose "a writer of the break;" "poetic adventure and sensual ecstasy, Explorer of a humanity beyond and below of ruling civilization". Le Clézio is no doubt. One writer "world", a researcher, a poet, a humanist, a rare novelist and popular all the time. Many readers of France and overseas must have felt a little pinch in the heart. Le Clézio, is a great name, an Ambassador of the francophone culture a Frenchman in the broad sense...

The world of J.M.G.

What distinguishes from the writer, this is the beauty of its language. A magnetic, universal language that stuns and consumes. "Ritournelle de la faim" (Gallimard), its latest very autobiographical novel is very narrative (the story of Ethel, a "hero of twenty years" during the second world war, very similar to his mother). The story is exciting, powerful speech (a denunciation of lightness to the rise of fanaticism) and yet it is sometimes surprised to lose meaning, swept away by the music of the words.

At the beginning of his work, Le Clézio colletait to the new novel, collages, fragmented writing. His first novel, "The minutes", which won him the prix Renaudot in twenty-three years (1963), flirting with new wave cinema. Then at the dawn of the 1980s, he adopted a more conventional form, channelled his creative fever in a universal vein. "Desert" (1980) is his masterpiece two stories in parallel dunes and silence. The words return loop moving lines, sentences in a spiral in blinding pages as the sands of the Sahara. When Le Clézio speaks of the world, it also speaks for itself. The Maghreb, the desert, it is the heart shared with his wife Jémia. His travels in the Mexico, the Panama, then its facility in Albuquerque is his passion for native American myths. Mauritian origins it is dual nationality he fired another one of his finest novels, "Gold diggers" the colorful and vibrant word such as lagoons and tropical fish. Over books (more than thirty to date), writer revolves more and more around his origins, his family mother, in his latest novel, his father in "the African" (2004).

It is not disembodied. J.M.G. Le Clézio was a committed man. Tireless Slayer of slavery, hard and lucid on the settlement, he is a defender hard for the rights of the child. When it refers to the stalk of the Veld'hiv in "Ritournelle de la faim", his pen locks cold anger.

The Nobel is not for him a culmination. "As any literary award, it is time, it is time." "It gives want to bounce", he said on France Inter before learning that he was winning. It is Maurice once again, that should bounce roman life. J.M.G. world tour is not finished.

"There was nothing else on Earth, nothing, nor anyone." They were born in the desert, no other path could lead them. They said nothing. They wanted nothing. The wind was on them, through them, as if there was no one on the dunes. They walked from the first dawn, without stopping, fatigue and thirst shrouded them as a gangue. The drought had hardened their lips and their language. Hunger corroded them. They could not speak. They had become, since so long, silent as the desert, full of light when the sun burns in the centre of the skies empty, and ice of the frozen stars night.

() "Desert", éditions Gallimard.