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TERRITOIRE OUBLIE NON IDENTIFIE ( T.O.N.I )

Publié le par Dr Serge-René Fuchet

TERRITOIRE OUBLIE NON IDENTIFIE ( T.O.N.I )

TERRITORY FORGOTTEN NOT IDENTIFIED

FANTASY REAL FANTASY SCIENCE FICTION TRAVEL

Territory Forgot Not Identified is the story of a meeting between two characters. The latter meet at Charles de Gaulle airport for a trip in the tropics, with the backdrop of this French company upset by the attacks of November 2015 in Paris and summer 2016 on the French Riviera. At first ordinary and characterized by a stopover and a meeting in India, this escapade is transformed into robinsonnade... to finally approach the more science-fictional, even fantastic shores of an island without a name that never seems to have existed, in any case, on a map: a kind of TONI.
 

TERRITOIRE OUBLIE NON IDENTIFIE ( T.O.N.I )
Territoire Oublié Non Identifié
 
FANTASTIQUE ONIRISME RÉEL SCIENCE-FICTION VOYAGE

Territoire Oublié Non Identifié est le récit d’une rencontre entre deux personnages. Ces derniers se retrouvent à l’aéroport Charles de Gaulle pour un voyage sous les tropiques, avec pour toile de fond cette société française bouleversée par les attentats de novembre 2015 à Paris et de l’été 2016 sur la Côte d’Azur. D’abord ordinaire et caractérisée par une escale et une rencontre en Inde, cette escapade se métamorphose en robinsonnade… pour finalement aborder les rives plus science-fictionnelles, voire fantastiques, d’une île sans nom qui ne semble avoir jamais existé, en tout cas, sur une carte géographique : une sorte de TONI.

 

 

 

Serge-René Fuchet

Serge-René Fuchet a produit un essai littéraire intitulé Le Genre romanesque moderne, paru en 2018 aux Éditions Collections de Mémoires. Il en tirera dans les années qui suivent l’irrésistible envie d’écrire un roman, qui finit par se concrétiser.

  • RÉEL
  • VOYAGE
  • SCIENCE-FICTION 
  • FANTASTIQUE
  • ONIRISME


https://www.lysbleueditions.com/produit/territoire-oublie-non-identifie/

TERRITOIRE OUBLIE NON IDENTIFIE ( T.O.N.I )
TERRITOIRE OUBLIE NON IDENTIFIE ( T.O.N.I )

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Blog of Dr Serge-René Fuchet placed under the protection of the intellectual property code.

Publié le par Dr Serge-René Fuchet

All titles and abstracts of works by Dr Serge-René Fuchet appearing on this blog as well as the free downloadable E-books are protected by copyright within the meaning of article L. 111-1 of the Intellectual Property Code.

Copyright confers, as a matter of principle, a private property on its owner, enabling him to determine the conditions of exploitation of his work.
Infringements of copyright are punishable by criminal law (CPI, art. L. 335-1 and L. 335-10) Infringement of copyright constitutes an infringement offence punishable by a fine of 300,000 euros and 3 years' imprisonment (CPI, art. L. 335-2 s.).
Additional penalties - closure of establishment, confiscation, publication by posting of the judicial decision - may also be imposed.

Blog of Dr Serge-René Fuchet placed under the protection of the intellectual property code.

Official website of Dr Serge-René Fuchet under the protection of the intellectual property code.


All titles and abstracts of works by Dr Serge-René Fuchet appearing on this blog as well as the free downloadable E-books are protected by copyright within the meaning of article L. 111-1 of the Intellectual Property Code.

Copyright confers by principle a private property on the owner, allowing him to determine the conditions of exploitation of his work.
Infringements of copyright are punishable by criminal law (CPI, art. L. 335-1 and L. 335-10) Infringement of copyright constitutes the offence of counterfeiting punishable by a fine of 300,000 euros and 3 years' imprisonment (ICC, art. L. 335-2 s.).
Additional penalties - closure of establishment, confiscation, publication by posting of the judicial decision - may also be imposed.

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2022, a new literary study, explanatory and critical of Doctor Serge-René Fuchet

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

2022, a new literary study, explanatory and critical of Doctor Serge-René Fuchet

The understanding of space species in a romanesque corpus: this is the precise subject of this comprehensive and detailed study disclosed by Doctor Serge-René Fuchet in this volume or modest opuscule entitled MONOGRAPHIE II, essays … This one is orchestrated from ten small essays that compose it to bring each one its own singularity.

It is a real initiatory journey from the point of view of semiotics and narratology that can discover or rediscover the readership from the fundamental literary notions that are notions of space and place, sensory representation of space, geography and topography, space and characters, focusing in the representation of space, diegetic and narrative functions of space, space and narrative, space and book, forms and idea of space and then romanesque spaces, scenery and things.

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An explanatory and critical literary study by Doctor Serge-René Fuchet

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

https://www.edilivre.com/monographie-i-essais-serge-rene-fuchet.html/

The understanding of places and characters in a romanesque corpus: this is the precise subject of this complete and detailed study disclosed by Dr.Serge-René Fuchet in this volume or modest opuscule entitled Monograph I, essays.  This one is orchestrated from ten small essays that compose it to bring each one its own singularity.

It is a real initiatory journey from the point of view of semiotics and narratology that can discover or rediscover the readership from the fundamental literary notions that are focus, gender and identification, the outside, the inside, the schematic, the image, the boundary, the distance, the referential dimension or density or the incompleteness.

An explanatory and critical literary study by Doctor Serge-René Fuchet

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AFTER 2010 ... AFTER " NEW PATCHWORK " ...

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

FREIER SCHRIFTSTELLER ( LIBRES ECRIVAINS ) AT THE END OF 2010 WITH 2 SITES :

Freier Schriftsteller ( Libres Ecrivains )

1 => http://rrf13.e-monsite.com/

2 => http://nlf2010.e-monsite.com/

AND AT THE BEGINNING OF 2020 WITH 2 ADDED BLOG AND SITE THAT APPEAR :

Serge-René Krostau-Fuchet, Ecrivain

 Blog => https://serge-rene-fuchet-ecrivain.webnode.fr/

 Site => http://sergerenefuchet.simplesite.com/

 

 

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NEW PATCHWORK 17 / LIFE IN WINTER

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

" Of the grey summit of the snowy hill

We contemplated the immense white area

Of the valley of the big fleshless poplars

And high sloping roofs in the white tiles

 

Impressed by the hard rigor of the winter

You blotissais you under your thick white coat

And you assailed me with your soft bitter glance

Soft glance become oblique and attractive

 

Numb by the cold we advanced

Slowly the one towards the other one and frankly

The senses(directions) in narrow complicity of souls

 

Well then the winter was not any more really the winter

We forgot to look at the world

To console us with the coolness of the winter

 

 Coucher-de-soleil.jpg

 

 

I copied out this poem which you sent me last autumn, in answer to my letter. I may not hide you the pleasure which gets me our epistolary reunion. I know pertinently that you composed it in November, at the approach of the new season, and that you imagine that one yourself in my company. Can  you intend to mean staying at Aubel? You will see me delighted.

By the way, why I say to you "you"? After all, it is going to make on almost one year that we did not see each other any more and you will have crossed only a single night to me. Well, thus I decide to say vous you again. Your poetry seduced me and I tried some difficulty resuming some distance with regard to your text.

You so implied me there that I try some fear. For what do you thus expect from me? What are your intentions? You love me, I do not doubt it. But why did you leave so abruptly, without saying to me even goodbye?

 

Feel reassured, I am not irritated with it. However, to avoid some risky speculation by the truychement of such a platonic relation, I deeply prefer that you mean seeing me to Aubel. You know my address. I see no inconvenience you meaning visiting me. I am going to stay all winter long to me; so you no fear have of having; you will not find the door closed. Looking forward to meeting you very soon, I kiss you. "

I am very sad after this correspondence to understand the logic of these events which were linked of season in season, my dear Espéranza. After I told you her little common disappearance in the last spring, I wonder to announce you sincerely how this exchange. It is not the fact of making you display of our physical then virtual relations that gets me some embarrassment. Those do not prevent our friendship, naturally. And when I resumed my newspaper, the day before yesterday, to report you all which arrived at me since I met Elise Clermont in the last spring, I really understand why I made the effort to look back us on our adventure on this desert island, this summer.

Ah! The summer! The summer! What a season! Openly, I always think that the winter makes very weak face(figure) in comparison! Here is a very inferior paradox you will say to me, but it is necessary to face the evidence that it is about a season very difficult there to live. My God! I do not dare to imagine what would have been able to arrive at you over there in winter, only, lost on this island. Fortunately that the smugglers returned to it and found you, waiting in the heat of a big campfire, alone on the beach. What a jopie to know you safe! It is a real happiness! I feel a real pleasure.

Openly, I am happy to have found you both there this end of year. It is necessary to admit that these two adventures will really have been little commonplace. And what coincidences! Finally, to know you living beings comforts me, even if you are far from me. Madrid, Aubel: I wonder in this century when we live how you could indeed meet both! Anyway, you know Aubel only of name, and it is far!

 

   Hiver.jpg

 

Things being what they are, I did not still clear up the mystery of claimed disappearance of Elise Clermont. She wrote me just like that, as if nothing had taken place. Besides, she( wonders of what it took for a hasty departure. It is a very strange paradox. Openly(frankly), you will consider at me a little intoxicated, dear Espéranza, but I have difficulty in conceiving still the absurd situation that I lived with her in the last spring. However, it is bizarre, I do not dare to tell her my story. I smell good that there was been mistaken my part at some point, but it, I regret it, exceed my understanding.
Yes, I wonder when I think again about it if I do not become crazy. Fortunately that she wrote me! I tried a pleasant sensation of reassurance. But the mystery, I regret it, whole rest. I am very going to return soon to Aubel, as she proposed it to me. Then I can try to reconstitute the story in the public garden in its presence. Go, dear Espéranza, I wish you a happy New Year and good-safe a merry christmas. Bye for now!

 

autres-campagne-france-1248665233-1226946   

 

Mrs here is now on the road of Flanders, in carriage. The journey is long but tomorrow morning we shall not be any more very far from Aubel. I wrote one month ago to Espéranza and I did not see spending time. Tomorrow evening, it is safe, I shall belong to Aubel in spite of the small snowflakes which begin to fall. I am simply afraid that there is too much fog. By the way, the coachman just said to me right now that the travelers were not still safe on this road. There are naturally traffic accidents, but worse, since the beginning of the winter occurred several attacks of diligences. It is disturbing but it is necessary to exorcise the evil spell and to hope that we shall not be the next victims of these exactions so dreaded, especially in winter.


Serge-René Fuchet
Writer

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NEW PATCHWORK 17 / THE DRUID AND THE BRIDGE

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

Things being what they are, as I have the honor
To say it to you, I go, sir,
In language of real
Contesse, to try to put to sleep you
By the end of this one. You
You will thus remember, if it you
The surprise of the druid pleases,
When he lives the extraordinary bridge
That we avoit built on the riviere.

But before passing besides, it is
Good to warn you, that in the respect
Of the width of this riviere and of
The length of the bridge(deck), one you
Lied of seven or eight hundred leagues,
Both for the rarity of the fact and
For the convenience of the rhymes, and
That the Lord of Herbay, far
To be as well huge as you could
To imagine him(it) to you, étoit everything
In most that once so big and
Once so foolish as our friend S.

 

autres-campagne-france-1248665233-1226946.jpg

The druid, who to put sound
Castle and his daughter outside insult,
Avoit surrounded with a wide
Ditch full of water, was only surprised
When he lives the effect of a delight
Against his;
He believed to have enough to laugh
Of all the bridges and all
Giants of the world; he was only
Embarrassed to guess who could
Be the author of this bridge.

Estimating
Not enough his neighbor d'Herbay for
Consider it charming,
He hastily runs to go through his books
To clear up of the fact, and
To knock down the bridge less
Of tems that he had raised:
But when all the books that he
Opened taught him nothing, it  was
In a big embarrassment; embarrassment
Which is converted in a sadness
Strange, when he lives that he cherchoit
Pointlessly the one who contenoit
All the secrets of his art.
It  defended the reading in his
Girl, to whom he never had anything
Defended that it, and some soûmise
That she had always be in her
Wills, he was afraid that the curiosity
For a matter expressly
Forbidden, had taken him
On his obedience. It was in
These allarmes that he found her as is
That we left her.

He awakened her
Quickly to ask her
Short stories of this book
If need be her intentions: but
It was to teach it to her indeed
Others than she spoke. Of
The maniere of which she came of
Fall asleep, I would have sworn that in sound
Awakening she went address in
Druid, by saying to him: big commander
Believer but
Her distraction changed object,
And throwing in her foot : my father,
She says, I lost him, and if you
Return it to me, you will see me
Die from despair, because it is
More tems to hide my foiblesse,
Nor to hide my murder. Yes
I lost it . what! Exclaimed
Druid, not only, Girl,
You broke me: but you
Lost what was me most
Dear to the world after you!

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NEW PATCHWORK 17 / TRILOGY OF THE CIVIL WAR

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

Serge-René Fuchet
Trilogie of the civil war
 25,00 Euro
- Distribution(Broadcasting): Http: //
www.publibook.com/


Native of Maribor in Slovenia, been born in 1969 and dismissed in Letters, Serge-René Fuchet is a writer author of novels, romans, theater ... The Slovenian author shows himself playwright in 2008 with his third publication, Trilogy of the civil war. In 2009 adorned Places and romantic characters. Serge-René Fuchet is since 2005 a chief editor of Nouvelle Lecture Française in Andorra, in England and from 2010 in Deutschland.

    
Trilogy of the civil war by Serge-René Fuchet


The action(share) takes place in the Balkans, with for backcloth fallen Belgrade, over which reigns Pyros, éperdu of love for Andreja, widow of Nestor, mother of Andrejcek, child whose Slovenes, through Orégon, demand the head … The argument is familiar, takes root in a culture inherited from the Antiquity(Antique). Already, you recognize behind these characters of the faces(figures) of our literary Pantheon: Pyrrhus and Andromaque, Hermione and Oreste … Already, you guess under the Serbian city the ramparts of Ilion in ashes where are formed the plots, enkystent the immaîtrisées passions, aggravate the tensions, deceive the manipulations for the love and the power … Here you are then entered a triple contemporary variation around the tragedies arisen from the troyen cycle …

Triptych inspired by the racinienne tragedy, the Trilogy of the civil war would have been able to be only a stylistic composition, even a theatrical stammering. By transposing the main actors of Andromaque or Iphigénie into the Balkans and on the banks of the Adriatic, Serge-René Fuchet imposes nevertheless his imprint on narratives which, in spite of their age(seniority), continue not less(nevertheless) of to speak to us about us all: men and women, lovers and enemies, mothers and widows … And the playwright to make us rediscover, under its pejorative rags, the notion of classic … More than levies, three rooms(parts,plays) which reinvent the sublime.

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NEW PATCHWORK 16 / LIFE IN AUTUMN

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

 

Autumn, 1869, October: I three times went to the toilet for this morning of October 4th, 1869. I do not know what arrives at me but I have the impression that there is not season anymore since I am locked into this room in walls papered with books. I am more than a week in search of a text which would have been written by the father of Elise Clermont: he would explain his mysterious disappearance to the public garden of Aubel. I may not refrain from keeping rehearsing the little common event which I lived over there in the last spring. I have a headache and I have a great deal of difficulty in admitting still my presence between these four walls of the library of professor Stévenard. Why this stubbornness to be tried to find the theoretical explanation of a fact certainly little common but on the whole rather harmless.

Go, I have to regain self-control. I am not all the same going to spend one week more to go and to come between this library and my place of residence, situated two floors above the apartment of the professor. When I rethink about it, this disappearance seems to me finally so absurd as I wonder if it is not about a pretext for my unconscious, always in search of the shape of its body, its hair so soft, its bosoms so ripe, its triangle so attractive there. Here is more than seven months than I did not see again her any more and I still wish it. More than her being, it is the ecstasy of the senses that it gets me which misses me a lot, in the point to understand this strange and sneaky coalition of the physical and moral pains which torment me.

 

 

  

 

I have just discovered a very former work on of distant expeditions in the Pacific Ocean. The book is very damaged, so that we cannot find the date of publication there. But he has to date the last century. He has to involve a very dark edition. But the work interests me because it evokes among others Tarawa, Aurorae. Yes, but I can hardly hope of explanation as for this mysterious ilôt on which we failed, Espéranza and I, last summer. It is low there that I lost her. I lost her, for ever.

 

Fortunately that a boat will have accosted a few days after its disappearance in this jungle there. It is thanks to these misled smugglers that I was able to get back to India. Certainly, I shall have made everything to find her. It will have been very difficult to me to explain to these unkind sailors the reason of my stubbornness to retain them on the island. I used some gold louis which still stayed in me of our wreck to buy their expectation. But they refused of entreprendre searches with me. So I shall not hardly have been able to make more than to switch on a big fire on the beach, and to maintain it during almost two whole days. In any logic, Espéranza should have gone raised on the rocky headland, which down from the clearing dominated almost all the island. Then, forced to climb it at the moment or to the other one, she would necessarily have seen the noiret smoke turning, she would have understood that she came from the beach!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 But not, I shall have crossed about two days to maintain the fire(light), to shout each one more than the other, to try fast and adventurous excursions in this endless mess of coconut palms and gigantic vegetation, and I was able only to make me obviously the most painful: Espéranza had disappeared. Moreover, it is the leader of the smugglers who will have put out the fire himself. Heprovoked me in duel with the cutting weapon, then persuaded that my story had no sense and that I made him waste his time. Not thinking more than of saving my skin, I had to wipe a bad stab which will have plunged me into a comatose state. However they will not have abandoned me because they put to sleep me for all the crossing: then I woke up first morning from the autumn on a quay of Calcutta, in India. There was not more than to return to Europe. As the smugglers had deprived me of all the gold which stayed in me, I understood that they had had to leave not enough time.

 

I went out for some minutes. I believe that I am going to stop this stupid research; she taught nothing to me. I shall have gone through several works on the islands of the Pacific, I shall have leafed down encyclopediae, among which that of Diderot, but it was of use to nothing. It is not certainly with the treaty at the time or the reflections on the space that I am going to succeed in discovering the truth as for the strange disappearance of Elise Clermont to Aubel. However, I understood that I continue to reflect about it, at the moment even where I look at the dead leaves which sprinkle the path of the park, behind the building. The weather is rainy. The sky darkens again and I cannot linger any more. I decide to abandon the library of the professor and to return at home.

 

   

 

 

 As usual, I get back my mail in the mailbox at the ground floor then borrow the staircase which leads to my third floor. I open automatically the front door, put my mail, my documents. Suddenly, I remain motionless, eyes riveted on an address written in the back of the white envelope which I just got back right now. This writing says to me something. Then, stuns, I read the address: " Elise Clermont, square Albert I °, 4880 Aubel ". Taken by a sudden passion, I nearly cut the index with the paper knife. Very fast, the reading of some written sentences hastily make me resume consciousness of the reality.

" Dear Nestor,

While maintaining month I did not write to you any more and you have to find that time passes slowly since our

Meeting to Aubel. I was surprised with your hasty departure. I tried some regret.

But as we knew recently, I supposed that you are not any more interested in me and that you had not thus made the effort to leave.

However, I found your address on a former(ancient) pad. As the autumn season leaves me the time, I write you these some words, in the hope of you to see again maybe a day. "

 

 

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NEW PATCHWORK 16 / THE BIRD OF SEA

Publié le par Serge-René Fuchet

Often, to have fun, the people of crew
Take albatross, vast birds of seas,
Which follow, painless travelling companions,
The ship sliding on the bitter abysses.

 

Hardly they put down them on boards,
That these kings of the azure, awkward and shameful,
Leave pathetically their big white wings
As oars be lying about in quoted by them.

 

 

This winged traveler, as it is left awkward and veule!
He, formerly so beautiful, as it)is funny and ugly!
The one annoys its beak with one burn mouth,
Other one mimes, by limping, counter which flew!

 

Poête is similar to the prince of thick clouds
Which haunts the storm and laughs at the archer;
Exiled on the ground in the middle of boos,
Its giant's wings prevent it from walking.

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