THE OPEN ROAD

Giono’s novel—published in French in 1951 and translated into English for the first time—follows the changing fortunes of a nameless wanderer.

Plenty of novelists withhold information about their narrators, names included. Plenty of novelists also take risks with time and pacing. What makes this novel stand out is the meticulous care that Giono applies to both his narrator’s voice and the ways in which he experiences time. A surface-level description would reveal that the novel follows a solitary man in his late 40s or early 50s making his way around central Europe looking for work. But from the outset, Giono also guides the narrative with a complex precision—in one moment, the narrator is approaching a village, for instance, and in the next he’s already miles past it. The effect can be dizzying and positions this book as a literary ancestor of Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Unconsoled (1995) or the novels of João Gilberto Noll. Giono proceeds in an episodic manner, sometimes zeroing in on the narrator’s time working at a particular job and sometimes finding him confronted with the violent actions of others. And there are moments when the narrator demonstrates a sense of wry wit, as in this conversational exchange: “I tell him how I was the personal valet, so to speak, of Dr. Ch., a guy from Paris who dealt with loonies and sex addicts. He tells me the name for that is a psychiatrist, which I already knew.”

Shifting between lived-in details and a sense of alienation, this novel is frequently hypnotic and always compelling.