Life Form

By Amélie Nothomb

A fictional correspondence with a desperate American soldier leads to a strange new reality in this surreal novel of trauma, healing, and war.

One morning, the heroine of this book—a famous Belgian author named Amélie Nothomb—receives an unusual fan letter. Melvin Mapple, an American soldier stationed in Iraq, tells her of the horrors around him. And of his only comfort, eating. He eats and eats until his ever-growing bulk starts to suffocate him. Disgusted with himself, but unable to stop, he labels his excess self Scheherazade as a way to cope.

Repulsed yet fascinated by Mapple’s story, Nothomb begins exchanging letters with him. She opens up about her artistic process and the challenges of being in the spotlight. Their far-reaching conversation delves into universal questions about humanity and relationships. But their epistolary friendship takes a surprising turn when the novelist discovers bizarre facts lurking behind Mapple’s complex personal story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781609451073

Amélie Nothomb

Amélie Nothomb nació en Kobe (Japón) en 1967. Proviene de una antigua familia de Bruselas, aunque pasó su infancia y adolescencia en Extremo Oriente, principalmente en China y Japón, donde su padre fue embajador; en la actualidad reside en París. Desde su primera novela, Higiene del asesino, se ha convertido en una de las autoras en lengua francesa más populares y con mayor proyección internacional. Anagrama ha publicado El sabotaje amoroso (Premios de la Vocation, Alain-Fournier y Chardonne), Estupor y temblores (Gran Premio de la Academia Francesa y Premio Internet, otorgado por los lectores internautas), Metafísica de los tubos (Premio Arcebispo Juan de San Clemente), Cosmética del enemigo, Diccionario de nombres propios, Antichrista, Biografía del hambre, Ácido sulfúrico, Diario de Golondrina, Ni de Eva ni de Adán (Premio de Flore), Ordeno y mando, Viaje de invierno, Una forma de vida, Matar al padre, Barba Azul, La nostalgia feliz, Pétronille, El crimen del conde Neville, Riquete el del Copete, Golpéate el corazón,Los nombres epicenos, Sed y Primera sangre (Premio Renaudot), hitos de «una frenética trayectoria prolífera de historias marcadas por la excentricidad, los sagaces y brillantes diálogos de guionista del Hollywood de los cuarenta y cincuenta, y un exquisito combinado de misterio, fantasía y absurdo siempre con una guinda de talento en su interior» (Javier Aparicio Maydeu, El País). En 2006 se le otorgó el Premio Cultural Leteo por el conjunto de su obra, y en 2008 el Gran Premio Jean Giono, asimismo por el conjunto de su obra.

Book preview

LIFE FORM

That morning I received a new sort of letter:

Baghdad, December 18, 2008

Dear Amélie Nothomb,

I’m a private in the US Army, my name is Melvin Mapple, you can call me Mel. I’ve been posted in Baghdad ever since the beginning of this fucking war, over six years ago. I’m writing to you because I am as down as a dog. I need some understanding and I know that if anyone can understand me, you can.

Please answer. I hope to hear from you soon.

Melvin Mapple

At first I thought this was some sort of hoax. Even if Melvin Mapple did exist, what right did he have to speak to me like that? Wasn’t there some sort of military censorship to prevent words like fucking from being used in conjunction with war?

I took a closer look at the letter. If it was a fake, it was a remarkably good one. The stamp was American, the postmark Iraqi. The most authentic thing about it was the handwriting, that basic American script, simple, stereotypical, that I had noticed so often on my visits to the United States. And the tone of the letter, so direct, indisputably legitimate.

When I was no longer in doubt as to the authenticity of the missive, I was struck by what was the most incredible aspect of the message: while there might be nothing surprising about the fact that an American soldier, caught up in the war right from the start, said he was as down as a dog, it was completely mind-boggling that he would write to me about it.

How had he come to hear of me? A few of my novels, five years or so ago, had been translated into English and garnered a, shall we say, rather intimate readership. As for soldiers, Belgian and French ones had written to me, there was nothing surprising about that; more often than not they were asking for a photograph with a dedication. But a private in the US Army, based in Iraq? That was beyond me.

Did he know who I was? Other than the fact that my publisher’s address was spelled correctly on the envelope, there was no proof that he did. I need some understanding and I know that if anyone can understand me, you can. How could he be so sure that I would understand him? Assuming he had read my books, were they any sort of solid proof of human compassion and understanding? I could not help but be puzzled by Melvin Mapple’s choice of wartime pen pal.

Moreover, did I really want to have him confide in me? There were already so many people who wrote to me at great length about their troubles. My capacity for putting up with other people’s pain was fit to burst. What’s more, the suffering of an American soldier would take up a lot of room. Did I have that sort of space? No.

Melvin Mapple must have been in need of a shrink. That’s not my job. I would not be doing him any favors by allowing him to confide in me, because he’d think he no longer needed the kind of therapy that six years of war surely warranted.

But not to reply at all would have been a low-down rotten thing to do. I decided on a compromise: I autographed some dedicated copies of my books that had been translated into English to the soldier, put them in a parcel, and sent them off. That way I felt like I’d done my duty by this US Army underling, and my conscience was at ease.

Some time later it occurred to me that the lack of censorship might be explained by Barack Obama’s recent election to the presidency; although it was true he wouldn’t be taking office for at least another month, this upheaval must already be having a certain impact. Obama had been a constant, vocal opponent to the war, and had clearly stated that in the event of a Democratic victory he would bring the troops home. I had a vision of Melvin Mapple’s imminent return to his native land: in my dreams he would return to his cozy farm surrounded by cornfields, and his parents would be standing there with their arms spread wide. This thought was enough to calm me altogether. And as he would surely take my signed books home with him, I would have done my bit, however indirectly, to promote reading in the Corn Belt.

Not even two weeks had gone by when I received Private Mapple’s reply:

Baghdad, January 1, 2009

Dear Amélie Nothomb,

Thank you for your novels. What do you want me to do with them?

Happy New Year,

Melvin Mapple

I thought this was a bit much. Slightly annoyed, I wrote back right away:

Paris, January 6, 2009

Dear Melvin Mapple,

I don’t know. Perhaps you can use them to balance a piece of furniture or raise up a chair leg. Or give them to a friend who has just learned how to read.

Thank you for your new year’s wishes. Same to you.

Amélie Nothomb

I mailed the note, fulminating against my stupidity. How else had I expected a soldier to react?

He wrote back right away:

Baghdad, January 14, 2009

Dear Amélie Nothomb,

Sorry, I must not have made myself very clear. What I meant was, if I wrote to you it was because I have already read your books, all of the ones in English. I didn’t want to bother you with that, that’s why I didn’t mention them; it went without saying. But I’m glad to have the extra copies, all signed on top of it. I can lend them to my buddies. Sorry to have inconvenienced you.

Sincerely,

Melvin Mapple

My eyebrows shot up. This guy had read all my books, and was establishing a relationship of cause and effect between that event and the fact he was writing to me. This plunged me deep into an abyss of thought. I tried to understand what, in my novels, could have incited this soldier to write to me.

On the other hand, this event had transformed me into that ridiculously delighted individual: the author who discovers that someone has read their oeuvre. The fact that this someone was a private in the US Army was even more gratifying. It made me feel as if I were a universal writer. I felt a grotesque surge of pride. In a supremely contented disposition I composed the following epistle:

Paris, January 20, 2009

Dear Melvin Mapple,

I do apologize for the misunderstanding. I am genuinely touched that you have read all my books. Allow me to take this opportunity to send you my latest novel translated into English, Tokyo Fiancée, which has just been published in the US. The title annoys me, it sounds like a movie with Sandra Bullock, but the publisher assured me that Ni d’Ève ni d’Adam was not likely to find a better translation. From the 1st to the 14th of February I will be in your fine country to promote the book.

Today Barack Obama was inaugurated as president of the United States. It is a great day. I imagine you will be home soon and I am glad.

Best wishes,

Amélie Nothomb

While I was on my American tour, I took every opportunity to inform whoever would listen that I was corresponding with a soldier based in Baghdad who had read all my books. This went over really well with the journalists. The Philadelphia Daily Reporter entitled their article US Army Soldier Reads Belgian Writer Amélie Nothomb . I wasn’t exactly sure what sort of aura this news item would surround me with, but it seemed to produce an excellent effect.

Back in Paris, a mountain of mail was waiting for me, including two letters from Iraq.

Baghdad, January 26, 2009

Dear Amélie Nothomb,

Thank you for Tokyo Fiancée. Don’t be annoyed, it’s a good title. I love Sandra Bullock. I’m looking forward to reading it. I’ll have plenty of time, you know: we won’t be coming home just yet. The new president said the troop withdrawal would take nineteen months. And you’ll see, since I was the first to arrive, I’ll be the last to leave: story of my life. But you’re right, Barack Obama is the man for the job. I voted for him.

Sincerely,

Melvin Mapple

Baghdad, February 7, 2009

Dear Amélie

Reviews for Life Form

[othemts · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Amélie Nothomb was born in Japan to Belgian parents, lives in Paris, and writes about the United States' war in Iraq. That's the kind of worldliness I like for an Around the World for a Good Book selection. Nothomb creates a fictional version of herself in this novel (how true-to-life, I do not know) in which she carries on a correspondence with an American soldier in Iraq, Melvin Mapple. The soldier is aware that Nothomb (the fictional one, at least) responds to letters from her readers and that she may be a sympathetic voice. Over the course of the letters, Mapple reveals that he and other soldiers react to the war through eating and enormous weight gain. Mapple sees it as a means of protest, forcing the military to pay for food and increasingly larger clothing. As the correspondence continues, the absurdity increases so that Mapple's obesity is treated as an artistic statement. Nothomb creates in herself an unsympathetic sounding board for the pathetic and grotesque Mapple. The book works well both as a satire of American foreign policy and obesity problem, but also is a gripping read with a number of interesting twists. On a literary level it works with the ideas of language and reality.

[nosajeel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This short novella is a quick and interesting read, although ultimately it does not feel fully successful to me. It largely consists of an exchange of letters between "Am̩lie Nothomb" and Melvin Mapple, who claims to be a soldier in Iraq. The letters start short and oddly with Mapple saying that only she can understand him, but then they start to get longer as he explains that in an act tantamount to sabotage he and his "buddies" are rapidly gaining weight. He tells her that he imagines that the new 200 pounds in him is a separate person, a woman called Scheherazade, and that he is regularly going through new army uniforms. The letters are interspersed with Nothomb in the first person reflecting on the letters, her letter writing in general, and projecting her naive attitudes towards America, the corn belt, and the Iraq war onto her correspondent--while being aware of the naivety of her views. Eventually we find out the correspondent is not what she thinks but instead of being turned off Nothomb's enthusiasm, interest and caring grows.

I found Life Form to be a page turner, but I kept hoping something more interesting would come of all of it. But still, is an interesting novella about the impact that writing has, obsession, obesity, the European perception of America, and much more.

[koanmi · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

An und für sich eine gute Idee für einen Roman: Ein amerikanischer Soldat kompensiert seine Kriegserfahrungen mit Fresssucht und ist zum Teil auch noch stolz darauf. Er beginnt einen Briefwechsel mit der Protagonistin, deren Name derselbe ist wie jener der Autorin (es ist also schon davon auszugehen, dass hier Autobiografisches im Spiel ist). Nothomb beschäftigt sich leider 142 Seiten hauptsächlich mit sich selbst, mit ihrer Manie, Briefe zu schreiben und das Internet zu negieren. Wir erfahren viel von ihrer Sichtweise des Schreibens, hauptsächlich ist das Buch aber eine Gebrauchsanweisung, wie man Frau Nothomb am besten einen Brief schreibt (z.B. doppelseitig, damit die Umwelt geschont wird). Der Text hat wenig Tiefgang, die Wendung für alle Mitdenkenden wenig überraschend und das Ende zwar offen, aber übertrieben skurril. Da hilft es auch nichts, wenn die Autorin explizit auf ihre Verkaufserfolge verweist.

[anniemod · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Amelie Nothomb is known for her letters writing - and it is not surprising that she turns to such a familiar topic for one one of her latest novels (latest in English but I think that she managed to get some more published after this one...)The novel is almost a nod to the old epistolary novels - the heart of the story is the letters exchange between Amelie Nothomb (which shares the name and the habits of the author but is not exactly her) and Melvin Mapple - an US soldier in Iraq who has a curious problem - he had become obese as a result of being a soldier and as an act of an active sabotage. And that's how the story unfolds - with Melvin writing long letters, Amelie answering in short (and very positive) letters. And somewhere there, between the letters are the thoughts of Amelie about the situation, about letters and about writing in general - which change the perspective. Because a lot of the letters she sends are not what she would have sent if she had decided to send her own thoughts - they are more diplomatic that anything else. And her thoughts are showing an European thinking about USA that still exists - even if it is not as prevalent as it had been 20 years ago, it sounds almost logical for someone that does not use computers.The turning point of the novel does not come as a complete surprise... even if it is a surprise for our Amelie. And her last action makes one almost laugh - especially if they had been through US Immigration a few times (and no, the outcome won't be what our protagonist expects). It is a nice story about the almost forgotten art of letter writing and about the creative process of a writer; about identities and the lies that can be said when the only connection between people is a string of letters. A story of self-image and self-loathing and of what people would do just so they can get some company... In today's digital world, letters are not something that people spend time on and not knowing how your friend is for weeks and months is something almost foreign. And yet... the story hits that little seed of remembrance from the past days - when internet was too young to be useful and people were using the good old snail mail. But something is still disconnected - for some reason, the book feels more like a plan for novel than a proper novel...

[jasonlf · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This short novella is a quick and interesting read, although ultimately it does not feel fully successful to me. It largely consists of an exchange of letters between "Amélie Nothomb" and Melvin Mapple, who claims to be a soldier in Iraq. The letters start short and oddly with Mapple saying that only she can understand him, but then they start to get longer as he explains that in an act tantamount to sabotage he and his "buddies" are rapidly gaining weight. He tells her that he imagines that the new 200 pounds in him is a separate person, a woman called Scheherazade, and that he is regularly going through new army uniforms. The letters are interspersed with Nothomb in the first person reflecting on the letters, her letter writing in general, and projecting her naive attitudes towards America, the corn belt, and the Iraq war onto her correspondent--while being aware of the naivety of her views. Eventually we find out the correspondent is not what she thinks but instead of being turned off Nothomb's enthusiasm, interest and caring grows.I found Life Form to be a page turner, but I kept hoping something more interesting would come of all of it. But still, is an interesting novella about the impact that writing has, obsession, obesity, the European perception of America, and much more.

[bostonbibliophile · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Here's the Amelie I love, edgy and weird but also sensitive and insightful while still tough as nails. What a strange little novel, destined to provoke consternation and conversation everywhere it lands.