Chanson douce (French Edition)

Well written story once I started it I couldn’t put it down . Amazing turn of events and surprising outcome it makes you think hard about the way a working woman is gets trapped between her children and her career. It has happened to all of us. I dislike domestic helpers I rather have a dirty home than a nounou.

depicting a slow psychological decline. The added value is the intelligent analysis of class distinctions and of parental mores. Dependence and exploitation become mingled. The writing is fine but nothing extraordinary, and with the exception of Louise, I won't remember the characters all that well.

I started this before going on a trip and planned to read it on my Kindle. After reading a bit, I decided to read something else, something that wouldn't keep me awake at night. But - I read it after getting home. This is a great read. Not really a horror novel, although some horrible things happen. It's very well organized, well-written, insightful.

I read this book because the author won a Goncourt prize. This book is well written. I don't know what the author was trying to say. Was the book social criticism. Mothers shouldn't work because there is no good child care. I found that the book dragged.

Birdlike, blonde Louise, hardly bigger than a girl herself, is a magician with children. At her interview with the busy Massé parents in their Paris apartment, she gently takes the squalling baby Adam from his father's arms, calming him instantly, and entices the toddler Mila out of hiding by pretending that she is a princess who has disappeared. Myriam, the children's mother, returns from her first day back at work as an advocate to find that Louise has totally tidied the cramped apartment, seemingly doubling it in size. When the nanny also shows her abilities as a cook, the father, Paul, who manages and records popular musicians, proudly invites friends and colleagues to enjoy the dinners prepared by their perfect nanny. Within weeks, Louise has become one of the family. It seems a miracle. But Leïla Slimani opens her book with the shocking words: "Le bébé est mort." The baby dead, the girl fatally wounded, the apartment bathroom a scene of carnage, the father away on business, the mother in shock. At first, it seems like a crime novel, working backwards to enable us to solve, or at least to understand, the murders. Yet Slimani is more subtle than that. Over the three or four years when Louise is working for the Massés—with occasional flashbacks to her previous employments, her life with her late husband, and troubles with her own daughter—the author paints a complex but instantly recognizable picture of contemporary social life. Unlike a mystery novel, there are few dark secrets waiting to be discovered, simply a developing subtext of class and privilege. Louise is no murderess in waiting, but a rather sad woman who neglects her own life to live vicariously through the perfect care of her charges. The Massés are struggling young professionals, living in the smallest apartment in their building. When they share their lives with Louise, even taking her on holiday to the Greek Islands, their affection is genuine. Leïla Slimani was born in Morocco in 1981, and came to France at the age of 17. CHANSON DOUCE, her second novel, won her the prestigious Prix Goncourt in 2016; it became an instant best-seller in France and awaits translation here. Race indeed plays a role in the subtext of class in the book, but it is a measure of the author's subtlety that she treats it only indirectly. It is Myriam, the rising lawyer, who is the Arabic-speaking immigrant; if there is any racism in the book, it is in her reluctance to hire a North African nanny who would seek a false sisterhood with her on grounds of language. But Louise is white. Her friend Wafa, indeed, is an undocumented immigrant, but she plays a minor role in the plot. Slimani's message is that life can deal a rotten hand to anyone; there is no need to look only to obvious factors to explain it. Myriam, defending an accused murderer in the course of her work, tells him: "We have to prove that you, you also are a victim." The case has nothing to do with the main plot, but everything to do with Slimani's theme. For when she is done, that is precisely how we see Louise: as a victim—not of others, but of life itself.

THE PERFECT NANNY by Leila Slimani Leila Slimani’s Prix Goncourt-​winning novel delves into the tor­mented mind of Louise, the ulti­mate nanny, who dou­bles as house­keeper, gourmet chef, and orga­nizer of chil­drens’ par­ties and out­ings, with­out extra pay. She’s also a work­ing parent’s worse night­mare: a woman whose doll-​like, Mary Pop­pins exte­rior con­ceals a dam­aged psy­che rife with resent­ment, obses­sion, and rage. THE PER­FECT NANNY chron­i­cles the rela­tion­ship between Paul and Myr­iam, two ambi­tious pro­fes­sion­als in Paris’s tony 10th arrondisse­ment, and Louise, the nanny too good to be true who does the unthinkable. “She’s our employee, not our friend,” Paul reminds his wife, but because Louise has become so invalu­able, it’s a point they both keep con­ve­niently overlooking. There’s no mys­tery here as far as the crime. On the first page, we’re told, “The baby is dead.” The ques­tion, of course, is not who mur­dered baby Adam and his older sis­ter Mila, but what demons drove Louise to kill them. To that end, Sli­mani takes us into her stark and lonely world, the sparse apart­ment where she spends as lit­tle time as pos­si­ble, the abu­sive hus­band who left her with crush­ing debts, the land­lord who hounds her for money. Her days spent in her employ­ers’ chic apart­ment mean free­dom to Louise, and she makes the most of them. With the older child at school and the par­ents work­ing, she lux­u­ri­ates in a long, hot shower, then glides nude around the apart­ment, her skin pearles­cent with Miryam’s expen­sive creams. Only occa­sion­ally does the unseemly sur­face, as when Paul comes home to find Louise has tarted up his daugh­ter in full glam­our make-​up. Dis­gusted, he pulls away from Louise after that, but by then the unequal rela­tion­ship has pro­gressed too far, mak­ing Louise almost impos­si­ble to dis­lodge. While Louise obsesses over whether Myr­iam is preg­nant again, the par­ents pon­der ways to grace­fully let her go. It’s that ter­ri­ble dis­par­ity – the nanny’s fan­tasies of being part of a fam­ily when she is, in fact, hired help – that brings the novel back full cir­cle to its dev­as­tat­ing open­ing lines. Although the end­ing dis­ap­points, leav­ing the reader to the obser­va­tions of the police detec­tive going over the scene, as a whole I found the novel engross­ing on many lev­els – as a crime thriller and as a social com­men­tary on class dis­tinc­tion, eco­nomic dis­par­ity, and motherhood.

I could not put this book down. My French reading ability is limited but this one is not a difficult read. It is a feast paced psycho thriller that has unexpected depths That make it a great read. The structure of the novel is simple but there is complexity here that is very thought provocative. In short. It is a damn good read

We’re aware of the tragic ending from the beginning and we follow the baby sitter as she evolves from unbelievable perfection to murderer. I ‘m not convinced by the actual process but the writing and the atmosphere are really perfect.