Then he stared at me, raised one hand between us and flipped up his middle finger. He looked over his shoulder to be sure the nearby patrons were not watching. He paused, and I thought maybe he was searching for the proper English word for it - le mot juste, as Flaubert would have called it. “What is it about?” said the other. “It’s…” They were fans of his work, and so I asked what they thought the book was about. I recently mentioned to two French friends that I was doing research for a column on Flaubert’s unfinished novel, Bouvard et Pécuchet. What might have been genius, and what might have been better left locked in the drawer? How and why do we read these final words from our favorite writers - and what would they have to say about it? We’ll piece together the rumors and fragments and notes to find the real story. Sign up for our newsletter to get submission announcements and stay on top of our best work.Įach month “ Unfinished Business” will examine an unfinished work left behind by one of our greatest authors.
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