I want perfection in love, as I believe I attained a kind of perfection in writing with A Woman’s Story. “I buy them for the perfection, the sublimation of the flesh,” she explains. And a little later: “After yesterday, there isn’t much left of the Kama-Sutra for us to do.” Not to worry: Ernaux is soon at the bookstore, buying Treatise on Caresses and The Couple and Love: Techniques of Lovemaking. “In one month, we’ve gone from inept sex to a kind of perfection-well, almost,” she writes in her book Se perdre, first published in 2001 and now as Getting Lost in a translation by Alison L. Exquisite, because of the “erotic splendor,” unlike anything she had experienced before. Torture, because the man with whom she was having a passionate affair was not only married but a citizen of a foreign country, to which, as the lovers knew from the start, he must return they even knew the date. For about a year, beginning in September 1988, the French writer Annie Ernaux lived in a state of exquisite torture.
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