by emad » Sun Oct 09, 2005 12:06 pm
SUNDAY TIMES<br>A novel inspired by a cult has led to the uncovering of bestselling author Michel Houellebecq’s secret life, writes Stuart Wavell<br> <br> <br> <br>Michel Houellebecq became France’s most reviled and acclaimed author by developing what he termed “a pig’s flair for sniffing out whatever is rotten in society”. To the delight of his literary enemies, the release of his fourth novel has been marked by revelations that he also has a predilection for telling pork pies. <br><br>Houellebecq’s enigmatic character and baleful view of humanity have helped to make his novels Atomised and Platform bestsellers and won him a near £1m advance for his latest book, The Possibility of an Island, inspired by the alien-friendly Raelian cult. <br> <br>By mixing biographical snippets into a melange of sex, science and philosophy, the 49-year-old writer has intrigued readers with the possibility that he shares some of the protagonists’ outrageous views. <br><br>Or is he simply a mischievous satirist? There was uproar over offensive remarks against Islam in Platform, which led to death threats and an unsuccessful prosecution for inciting religious hatred. His retreat to a remote Irish island and more recently to Spain only burnished his mystique. He was even hailed as something of a prophet: Atomised culminated in a terrorist attack on tourists in Thailand, prefiguring 9/11 and the first explosions in Bali. <br><br>However, all that has taken a knock with the discovery by a French journalist that Houellebecq has fictionalised his life. In his book The Unauthorised Houellebecq, Denis Demonpion of Le Point magazine reveals that the author’s real name is Michel Thomas and that he was born in 1956, not 1958 as he has repeatedly claimed, even in court. <br><br>The journalist gathered evidence from school friends, colleagues and editors, leading Houellebecq to complain: “All my friends have betrayed me. I have hardly any left at the moment.” <br><br>Contradicting Houellebecq’s insistence that his mother was dead, the journalist met her and discovered that her son saw her regularly until, at the age of 37, he sent her an ultimatum. “As a mother you have been abject and beneath everything — before you die you’ve still got time to make amends — send me enough money to live on for three years,” he wrote. “Without a cheque, your letter will be binned.” <br><br>To compound this filial ingratitude, Houellebecq became estranged from his father when the writer insulted his paternal grandparents — who had brought him up with great affection — in his novel Atomised. “Houellebecq had turned his life into a novel,” Demonpion declared. “He has a habit of twisting the facts and doctoring reality. He’s a mutant.” <br><br>Houellebecq offered to help the journalist with the biography on condition that his comments were incorporated into the book. Demonpion declined — wisely, given his subject’s penchant for distortion. <br><br>The revelations have been received gleefully in French publishing and literary circles, where Houellebecq is regarded as a jumped-up interloper who has defiled French literature. <br><br>Particular relish is felt by interviewers who have suffered the indignity of being patronised by a scruffy man posing as a Left Bank intellectual and sexual libertine. With a pasty complexion, a furtive look in his muddy eyes and a straggling hair implant, Houellebecq resembles one of the less appealing dwarfs in Snow White, treating questions with long, suspicious silences while holding a cigarette between his third and fourth fingers with an affected air. His only discernibly endearing trait is his love for his dog Clément, a large Welsh corgi, and Marie-Pierre, his attractive wife. <br><br>Houellebecq’s public persona and his disgust with the human condition stem from his feelings of early neglect. “Until my death I will remain an abandoned little child, crying from fear and cold,” he declared recently. <br><br>Demonpion believes that it is just an act: “He understood that this image of a poor little guy was the best passport to literary glory.” <br><br>It may not be that simple. Houellebecq says that his liberties with his date of birth are nothing to do with making him seem younger. By his account his mother falsified his age to get him into school two years early, all the better to wash her hands of him. Born on Réunion, he lived for five years in Algeria until his mother divorced and left him to be brought up by his grandparents. His mother has denied his assertion that she converted to Islam to marry a Muslim. But Houellebecq can claim to have been left confused by his upbringing: “There are certain events in my life which remain a mystery to me and on which I would have loved to be enlightened.” <br><br>Demonpion has done his best on this score, stripping the gilt from the author’s CV. He reveals that after studying agriculture Houellebecq spent two years in film school but never worked in the film industry. After 18 months out of work he became a computer repair man in the French civil service. <br> <br> <br> This has prompted an admission of sorts from the author that sounds like a cry for help: “I acknowledge that from the age of 15 I constructed a persona for myself; that of a superior being gliding in the realms of higher thought, but terribly handicapped socially and by appalling physical complexes, particularly in relationships with girls.” So much for the sexual adventurer. <br>His latest novel, to be published here in November, develops his vision of the future outlined at the end of Atomised. <br><br> <br> <br>His hero is Daniel, a rich, sex- obsessed comedian (thinly disguised as Houellebecq) whose pessimism is nourished by the prospect of approaching impotence. <br><br>Like Houellebecq he is drawn to Elohism, a scientific religion similar to the Raelian sect in which converts believe that life on Earth was designed by aliens. The author has met Claude Vorilhon, aka Rael, the founder of the Canada-based cult which is naturally delighted with the book. <br><br>The Raelians made headlines in 2002 when their “scientific director”, Brigitte Boisselier, claimed that a baby created through cloning had been born in America. Since then four more such babies are supposed to have been born. <br><br>Houllebecq is clearly fascinated by the idea: in his book Elohism’s scientists decide to improve a morally defunct humanity by offering a future of sexual promiscuity and immortality through cloning. These momentous events occur over two millenniums, leading Le Figaro’s literary editor to remark that despite the lashings of explicit sex the story was like listening to a dripping tap while waiting for a plumber. <br><br>Others have found the book challenging. It has been tipped to win the prestigious Goncourt prize next month, although the judges spurned Platform in 2002. It sold 300,000 copies in France within months of publication. Instead, Houellebecq won the world’s richest literary prize, the £62,000 International Impac Dublin literary award. <br><br>Another compensation is in prospect. Houellebecq may at last achieve his dreams of becoming a film maker. As part of his publishing deal he will direct his movie adaptation of The Possibility of an Island. <br><br>Not bad for a computer nerd.<br><!--EZCODE AUTOLINK START--><a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspaper/0,,176-1817049,00.html">www.timesonline.co.uk/new...49,00.html</a><!--EZCODE AUTOLINK END--><br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br><br><br><br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <p></p><i></i>
