The evening of the Prix de Flore 2014
A Parisian café in front of the eternal, Le Flore only fills up when it’s time to close. But there is no more popular wedding night than this Thursday in November during which the institution presents its Prize. In the list of literary awards, although more confidential, the said Prize seduces by its singular DNA. Because he breathes with all his pores the essence of St-Germain-des-prés, place of the surrealist splendours of yesteryear, but also and especially for his devotion towards the young stage, far from the dinosaurs of the Parisian edition. Originality, modernity, youth, he says. With the prize in his pocket, the young recipient can be delighted: he will not need to spend his 6150th cheque on wine, since a glass of Pouilly engraved in his name awaits him on the terrace for the coming year, without moderation. The importance of useful and motivating endowments…
Latest to date: Aurélien Bellanger, the class gifted. Already noticed in 2012 with his first novel’Théorie de l’information’ published by Gallimard, the writer persists and signs a #2 with the title Houellebecquien,’L’Aménagement du territoire’. The pitch? It all starts with the work on a high-speed line, which will wake up something that has been sleeping since the dawn of time. A secret machination that each one will try to make play in his favour and, in the end, create a geographical reflection on the space and the mysteries of an old forgotten village.
But let us return to the essential: the celebration. Because in Flora, you don’t sulk about good food and epicurean pleasures. More here than anywhere else, the writers’ association finds itself valdinguer de tous bois, between the buffets stamped terroir and the ultra crowded dance floor. One night only. Normal : Frédéric Beigbeder presides over the jury alongside the affable founder of the Prize, Carole Chrétiennot, who is celebrating her 20th birthday again this year. The prize, not Carol. On the anniversary menu, in addition to foie-gras, oysters and Pouilly, the Fratrie de la Baume aka Singtank will play live its rock melodies before Greg Boust throws as a friend the top 50 wedding music.
There was some rififi among the intellectuals, but not too much was needed: at midnight the swarm of brains flew to Castel, who finished entertaining the most insatiable in another high place of the Germanopratine encanaille. Happy epilogue.
