by Françoise Sagan
PhD Svetlana Pancheva
I do not remember when I took a liking to Sagan’s writings. In the years of my growing as a reader, she was already a ‘star of my daddy’s day’. Her novels felt weepy, somewhat trite, and indistinguishable from one other. But never boring, no! I was at a loss, though, as to what was scandalous about Bonjour Tristesse (Hello Sadness), much more interesting seemed to be what I happened to know about Sagan’s lifestyle: drugs, gambling, fast cars, outrageous love affairs with men and women alike, altercations at Cannes, when she was Jury President… On the few photos of her in the then Bulgarian press, a more and more aging woman was seen, looking uncertainly, vaguely reminiscent of a tired bird…
I gradually began to fathom how valiant was Sagan the writer. She spoke about love simply and unexpectedly, as only this feeling would; about sex, forthrightly, with no frills; about separation, tearlessly, but unremorsefully ‘observing’ the love wounds. Her best days as a writer may have long gone; still, Sagan is one of the authors, who will be there for us when we face our failures, the cooling summer, and the loneliness that comes after.
I do not remember when I took a liking for Sagan’s writings, but I knew why: because of her knack for leading us into the art of greeting sadness. And smilingly too. Almost.
Premiere: 15th and 16th of October 2021