At the Théâtre de Poche, Claire Chazal reveals her literary journal

The practice of reading is collapsing among young people, warns a report. This is how civilizations die out. It was at the Théâtre de Poche that the resistance was organized. In this almost clandestine place located at the bottom of a dead end, in Montparnasse, there is always light. A bohemian atmosphere, closer to the world of Henry Murger than to that of today's bobos, permeates the atmosphere. The warmth owes as much to the complicity of the public as to the crampedness of the rooms.

In the hall, posters announce shows around Chateaubriand, Racine or Flaubert. Who says better ? 5 p.m., 7 p.m., 9 p.m., times are flexible. Maxime d'Aboville goes down to the basement with his young son. The actor came to applaud Christophe Barbier's Mozart. This is a model father. The rest of the week, he plays Pauvre Bitos, by Anouilh, at the Théâtre Hébertot. Hurry up. You will meet one of the architects of the Terror, Robespierre. In these times, this can be useful.

At Grand Poche, Claire Chazal reads texts by writers who are dear to her. The performance begins a quarter of an hour late. It’s a way of remaining faithful to the spirit of the genius of the place, Philippe Tesson. The former journalist from Quotidien de Paris pays tribute to its founder. With him, Paris was a party. Black tuxedo, white tennis shoes, the woman who invited herself to the French living room for twenty-four years on weekends opens five books from her library. She warns with a smile: “ It’s quite dark. » The rest proves him right. Published in 1942, The World of Yesterday, by Stefan Zweig, tragically echoes the feeling of decadence hovering over Europe. In European Education, Romain Gary lets us hear the voice of a young man whose father hides in the Polish forest to escape the Nazis.

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The reader slides from one point of the scene to another. A musical interlude separates the pieces. His tone is sober, his reading clear. At the height of his glory, Ravel smokes a Gauloise on the deck of the France: “He had the size of a jockey. » Jean Echenoz's pen is of a smiling elegance. La plus que vive, by Christian Bobin, is poignant. “ She is the slowest woman I have ever known,” the author writes ; except to die. Charlotte Delbo describes “the largest train station in the world for arrivals and departures”: Auschwitz. On the stage of Le Poche, on Mondays, at 9 p.m., the news is perhaps no more encouraging than on the 8 p.m. news; but at least we enjoy listening to them.

“Claire Chazal. My ideal library”, at the Théâtre de Poche (Paris 6th), Monday at 9 p.m. www.theatredepoche-montparnasse.com