Several stories inhabit Roger Lewinter's first small book to appear in
English, Story of Love in Solitude. Each story takes the form of a
loop: a spider who won't stop returning; camellias that flourish and
then die; dying parents whose presence is always yet felt; turning again
and again to work on Rilke translations; a younger man whom the narrator
sees each week at the Geneva street markets. All the tales touch on the
possibility, the open possibility of love--a loop without end.
Lewinter's short fictional works are at once prose poems and a form of
dreaming; they are akin to the great French tradition of things sparking
emotions and emotions sparking things--part Sarraute, part
Robbe-Grillet, part Perec. Plot is not really the point of his
meditative works. Lewinter concerns himself more with perception,
apperception, and sudden inflections of grace: loss and beauty meet in
an explosion of joy, which becomes, "in its brilliance, a means of
transmittal."