What do you think?
Rate this book
Abécédaire
“I wrote (more or less, for promises are always hard to keep, even those made to oneself ) for five days a week for a year. I wrote no more than a page, or rather, I wrote only for the length of the analytic hour, fifty minutes (though I also practiced the variable session at times)… I followed Freud’s model of train travel for his theory of free association, acting ‘as though, for instance, [you were] a traveller sitting next to the window of a railway carriage and describing to someone inside the carriage the changing views which [you] see outside’. As for my characters, many of their names begin with A. Some of these women exist or existed, others are from fiction, or write fiction. Some are friends or acquaintances. None are credited but a keen reader could recognise many of them. I invented nothing. I am the aleph.” - Sharon Kivland
290 pages, Paperback
Published July 1, 2022
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
December 27, 2022
This is a clever little book that pulls apart narrative and reassembles it using images, vignettes, asides, and commentary. The result is a nuanced tapestry of a book with patterns popping up and recurring throughout. The tapestry metaphor is not accidental, as Kivland leans into the connection between storytelling and weaving, particularly from women storytellers. Kivland has explored Freudian themes in her past work, including an exploration of her own relationship to Freudian scholarship. The Freudian connection is front and center early in this work, although here it is also a jumping off point for other themes. The author's imposed writing constraints, outlined in the blurb, add another layer of interest and lead to a product that feels quite Sebaldian. The result is a book that some may be frustrated to read - particularly readers looking for traditional narrative or emotional payoff. But for those of us who are interested in deconstructed narrative and innovative forms, this is a nifty little work that is intellectually satisfying.
May 21, 2023
Anna, Anne, Ann, all those women who are not my sisters, who are my sisters. Once they pledged sorority, against fraternity. Once they called it sisterhood, which is also a clothing label with an emphasis on sustainability and a range of timeless dresses, and a creative design programme for helping young girls reach their creative potential.
The novel Abécédaire is by Sharon Kivland who introduces herself on her website (https://lightsculpture.pagesperso-ora...
Kivland herself founded a small independent press MA BIBLIOTHÈQUE, which published Simon Wortham's brilliant novels The small and Early Mass (see https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...). But this novel is published by a different and relatively new small independent press MOIST. The press's founders have explained how they were inspired to established their press, inter alia, by the brilliant novel We Are Made Of Diamond Stuff:
The novel, whose title is inspired by an alphabetical primer, is told in a series of one-page vignettes about a collection of women whose names typically start with A (and within that often variations on Ann), interspersed with photographs, and some injections where the author/narrator analyses her own work.
The technique follows, to an extent, Freud's free association and many of the characters referenced are associated with Freud, or Freudian psychology, such as his daughter Anna and Breuer's patient 'Anna O' (actually Bertha Pappenheim). This convention of first name plus initial is followed throughout.
But for me the greater interest was the many references to authors of fiction e.g. Chapter LVII based on Anne Serre's (here Anne S.) brilliant The Governesses ) tr. Mark Hutchinson), Ananda Devi and her Eve out of Her Ruins (tr. Jeffrey Zuckerman), and Annie Ernaux as well as the translator of one of her books, and an author and poet in her own right, the International Booker winning Anna Moschovakis.
And from the Anglosphere, Ann Carson, Ann Tyler, Ann Patchett and, in the novel’s closing pages, Ali Smith’s seasonal quartet.
As the narrator tells us towards the novel's end:
As for my characters, many of their names begin with A. These are their first names; there are few surnames here, save those of the secondary male characters (sometimes). I add a surname initial. It is inconsistent. Some of these women exist or existed, others are from fiction, or write fiction. Some are friends or acquaintances. Many are absent but that does not mean they do not inhabit me. All are comrades. Gladly, I would drink with any of them in a bar, though they might try to avoid me as I thrust my too-eager friendship upon them. None are credited but a keen reader could recognise many of them, even themselves. I ran my hand along the shelves of my library or unearthed years of notebooks to extract them. None of them are me. The words are not my own; the words haunt me and inhabit me.
I invented nothing. I am the aleph.
Weaving and embroidery plays a key role, based on Anna Freud's use of the technique in her own psychology and also as a guiding principle for how the different stories in the novel are spun together, a 'factory of thoughts’, like the weaver’s masterpiece in Goethe’s Faust, in which a treadle throws a thousand threads and unseen, the shuttles tie the threads together in an infinite combination.
Which makes for a fascinating read alongside Thread Ripper from Lolli Editions, which also focuses on women and weaving but looking ahead to the digital age rather than back to the era of Freud.
And while the novel relies on free association it also feels carefully constructed, each entry constrained to a page and the book apparently written at regular intervals of an hour, three times a week, a technique inspired, I think, by both the routine of regular therapy session but also another A, Anne Garréta, the first female member of Oulipo, (here 'Anne G') and her 2002 memoir/novel Pas un jour:
Later Anne G. wrote a memoir, in which she determined to write every day for a month, five hours a day, recalling each time a woman she desired or whom desired her, and then, she said, she would place the entries in alphabetical order, and it would be, she said, a stammering alphabet of desire.
Highly recommended and a strong contender for the Goldsmiths Prize if entered.
The novel Abécédaire is by Sharon Kivland who introduces herself on her website (https://lightsculpture.pagesperso-ora...
I am an artist and writer living in London and France. Until 2022 I was Reader in Fine Art at Sheffield Hallam University. I was also a Research Associate of the Centre for Freudian Analysis and Research, London. I have exhibited widely in Europe and North America. Publications include A Case of Hysteria, Book Works, London, 1999. Filigrane Editions, France, published a small book on my work Le bonheur des femmes, a work that began in the perfume departments of the grands magasins of Paris, where I retreated after walking the streets in pursuit of Marx and Freud, in the shadow of Lacan, and this is still a work that haunts me. My practice is one of stupid refinement, trapped in archives, libraries, the arcades, and the intersection of public political action and private subjectivity.
Kivland herself founded a small independent press MA BIBLIOTHÈQUE, which published Simon Wortham's brilliant novels The small and Early Mass (see https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...). But this novel is published by a different and relatively new small independent press MOIST. The press's founders have explained how they were inspired to established their press, inter alia, by the brilliant novel We Are Made Of Diamond Stuff:
At first, we joked about how we should set up a press of our own, but gradually these jokes turned into serious conversations. We made enquiries with printers and distributors and found that, due to advances in digital printing and print-on-demand, they weren't as expensive as we thought. The Goldsmith's Prize had just announced their 2019 shortlist. Four of the six, shortlisted novels were published by regional presses, and two were based in industrial, northern cities (an important distinction, because clearly not everywhere outside of London, or even north of Watford, is alike). We were particularly pleased by the inclusion of Isabel Waidner's We Are Made of Diamond Stuff: partly because their publisher, Dostoyevsky Wannabe, is the brainchild of two working-class Mancunians who have consistently refused to play by the establishment rulebook, and partly because Waidner's prose is dazzling, fresh, and just not posh.
The novel, whose title is inspired by an alphabetical primer, is told in a series of one-page vignettes about a collection of women whose names typically start with A (and within that often variations on Ann), interspersed with photographs, and some injections where the author/narrator analyses her own work.
The technique follows, to an extent, Freud's free association and many of the characters referenced are associated with Freud, or Freudian psychology, such as his daughter Anna and Breuer's patient 'Anna O' (actually Bertha Pappenheim). This convention of first name plus initial is followed throughout.
But for me the greater interest was the many references to authors of fiction e.g. Chapter LVII based on Anne Serre's (here Anne S.) brilliant The Governesses ) tr. Mark Hutchinson), Ananda Devi and her Eve out of Her Ruins (tr. Jeffrey Zuckerman), and Annie Ernaux as well as the translator of one of her books, and an author and poet in her own right, the International Booker winning Anna Moschovakis.
And from the Anglosphere, Ann Carson, Ann Tyler, Ann Patchett and, in the novel’s closing pages, Ali Smith’s seasonal quartet.
As the narrator tells us towards the novel's end:
As for my characters, many of their names begin with A. These are their first names; there are few surnames here, save those of the secondary male characters (sometimes). I add a surname initial. It is inconsistent. Some of these women exist or existed, others are from fiction, or write fiction. Some are friends or acquaintances. Many are absent but that does not mean they do not inhabit me. All are comrades. Gladly, I would drink with any of them in a bar, though they might try to avoid me as I thrust my too-eager friendship upon them. None are credited but a keen reader could recognise many of them, even themselves. I ran my hand along the shelves of my library or unearthed years of notebooks to extract them. None of them are me. The words are not my own; the words haunt me and inhabit me.
I invented nothing. I am the aleph.
Weaving and embroidery plays a key role, based on Anna Freud's use of the technique in her own psychology and also as a guiding principle for how the different stories in the novel are spun together, a 'factory of thoughts’, like the weaver’s masterpiece in Goethe’s Faust, in which a treadle throws a thousand threads and unseen, the shuttles tie the threads together in an infinite combination.
Which makes for a fascinating read alongside Thread Ripper from Lolli Editions, which also focuses on women and weaving but looking ahead to the digital age rather than back to the era of Freud.
And while the novel relies on free association it also feels carefully constructed, each entry constrained to a page and the book apparently written at regular intervals of an hour, three times a week, a technique inspired, I think, by both the routine of regular therapy session but also another A, Anne Garréta, the first female member of Oulipo, (here 'Anne G') and her 2002 memoir/novel Pas un jour:
Later Anne G. wrote a memoir, in which she determined to write every day for a month, five hours a day, recalling each time a woman she desired or whom desired her, and then, she said, she would place the entries in alphabetical order, and it would be, she said, a stammering alphabet of desire.
Highly recommended and a strong contender for the Goldsmiths Prize if entered.
February 20, 2023
A couple of days ago I watched Todd Field’s Tár , a film depicting the downfall of the titular fictional composer due to 21st century attitudes, However it’s not the plot that concerns us in this case, rather the structure of the movie. I thought it mirrored the movements of a symphony; there were set pieces which represented moods. For example, restaurant scenes were mostly calming with hints of tension, the scenes at Tár’s partner’s flat signified safety with light horror, all rehearsal scenes were intense. Sharon Kivland’s ABÉCÉDAIRE also follows this structure.
Spread over 257 page long chapters, Kivland weaves in reoccurring themes, characters and situations, not unlike a symphony. Protagonists who start with A feature: Freud’s daughter Anna, his most famous patient Anna O, novelist Angela Carter makes an appearance so does philosopher Jacques Lacan, hysteria patient, Blanche Wittman and assorted werewolves.
ABÉCÉDAIRE is a cyclic novel with protagonists cropping up and yet paradoxically it is a linear novel as a detail in a previous chapter will occur in the next, thus the book unfurls in front of reader. The author herself describes the book as a dream and it’s true, There’s floating blob-like feel to the text. Themes of mental stability, orientation, nature and the instability of humankind all feature in this fever dream of a novel.
To return to the symphony idea: every orchestra is led by the conductor, who shapes and molds those sounds according to the interpretation of the music. Kivland works the same way with ABÉCÉDAIRE , the baton being the pen. There’s also a lot of fourth wall breaking which emphasises that Kivland is as integral to the text as a conductor is to the orchestra. A dream is also created by one person, however it cannot be controlled, this novel is. Again there is a paradoxical nature to the book as it also is oddly amorphous.
Despite oxymoronic tendencies I’m placing on the book, this is a highly original piece of work. Cheap comparisons would be Sebald (but then again isn’t most contemporary experimental literature Sebaldian in nature?) with the casual wit of Ann Quinn (who is quoted in an early chapter of the book) but really ABÉCÉDAIRE exists in it’s own world.
Publisher, Moist Books, over the course of a few the course of a few years have been quietly dropping novels which challenge the form and the result is quite an innovative set of novels which stand out. ABÉCÉDAIRE is no exception and is a worthy addition to those books which pave a new paths rather than following tried and tested ones.
Spread over 257 page long chapters, Kivland weaves in reoccurring themes, characters and situations, not unlike a symphony. Protagonists who start with A feature: Freud’s daughter Anna, his most famous patient Anna O, novelist Angela Carter makes an appearance so does philosopher Jacques Lacan, hysteria patient, Blanche Wittman and assorted werewolves.
ABÉCÉDAIRE is a cyclic novel with protagonists cropping up and yet paradoxically it is a linear novel as a detail in a previous chapter will occur in the next, thus the book unfurls in front of reader. The author herself describes the book as a dream and it’s true, There’s floating blob-like feel to the text. Themes of mental stability, orientation, nature and the instability of humankind all feature in this fever dream of a novel.
To return to the symphony idea: every orchestra is led by the conductor, who shapes and molds those sounds according to the interpretation of the music. Kivland works the same way with ABÉCÉDAIRE , the baton being the pen. There’s also a lot of fourth wall breaking which emphasises that Kivland is as integral to the text as a conductor is to the orchestra. A dream is also created by one person, however it cannot be controlled, this novel is. Again there is a paradoxical nature to the book as it also is oddly amorphous.
Despite oxymoronic tendencies I’m placing on the book, this is a highly original piece of work. Cheap comparisons would be Sebald (but then again isn’t most contemporary experimental literature Sebaldian in nature?) with the casual wit of Ann Quinn (who is quoted in an early chapter of the book) but really ABÉCÉDAIRE exists in it’s own world.
Publisher, Moist Books, over the course of a few the course of a few years have been quietly dropping novels which challenge the form and the result is quite an innovative set of novels which stand out. ABÉCÉDAIRE is no exception and is a worthy addition to those books which pave a new paths rather than following tried and tested ones.
Read
July 23, 2022a weird and challenging read, but there is soooo much to love in here. i found it fascinating to read along these unexpected associations, and to unwind the threads, and especially to identify references i recognized + discover for myself some of the more opaque ones (waited the whole way for an ali smith quote and was not disappointed!!)
December 13, 2022
This book – which like much small press literary fiction rather blends the ideas of fiction and non-fiction, as well as essays and novels - is written by an artist, writer and until recently academic researcher into Freudian Analysis and research
Freud is an ever present influence on the book – firstly in providing much of the material around which the book is written (he and particularly his daughter Anna are key recurring characters) and secondly in consciously following his ideas of free association/train travel with a series of 256 one page chapters which (other than some concluding editing) were written five days a week for almost a year – each over 50 minutes (to mimic I think the analysis time in an hour session).
The title is from French alphabet primers – with the idea of a sequence of words or illustrations starting with the same letter. Here – the key is A – and in particular an effective sorority of women whose names begin with A (and even more ideally are variations on Anne).
So we start with Anna Freud (to avoid I assume paternalism second names are reduced to a letter – so in fact Anna F), but we also have at different times: Anna O (patient of Josef Breuer on whom ie developed the talking cure); Anna P(avolva) – the ballerina; Arachne and Ariande (from Greek mythology); Ariana R(eines) – the modern American poet; Anne S(erre) – the author; Annie E(rnaux) – Nobel Laureate; Anna K(avan) – British novelist and short story writer; Anne W(iazemsky) – actress and Robert Bresson muse; Ananda D(evi) – author of Eve Out Of Her Ruins; and even Ali S(mith) whose Seasonal Quarter provides a song for the last chapter (and whose partner Sarah Wood seems to have been a key encouragement for the novel).
A quick aside here – there is a lot of thematic overlap (if almost no character recurrence) with the Booker shortlisted “After Sappho” – but this book probably also has a little of the same issue of being rather lighter on intersectionality than it is on diversity (and in largely the same way).
Returning to this book - recurring themes include: storytelling and weaving; male patriarchal dominance (if not even abuse) – including and particularly in father-daughter, Uncle-niece or master-maid relationships – these are followed not just through historical characters but also through fictional works.
The writing is I think a lot easier to follow when you have some familiarity with the subjects – as the condensed daily format and deliberately neutral tone does not give much space for exposition (not assisted by the lack of patriarchal surnames so that even Googling takes some time). So for example – my familiarity with Anne S(erre)’s “The Governess” and even more so the plots and nuances of ballets such as “Giselle” and “The Nutcracker” and (slightly oddly) my knowledge of “The Sandman” less from Metallica and more from “Coppelia” meant that I really enjoyed the sections of the book dealing with these whereas many other chapters rather lost me and my rating reflects my ability to only really appreciate some of the novel.
One final comment – one of my issues with genre fiction is how books, even when trying to be different seem unable to shed certain genre conventions/constraints – for example Fantasy novels always have to be in a series of at least 3; Detective novels to stretch coincidence too far by having the main character a magnet for crimes. And this Sebaldian genre novel can also not escape the constrains with the obligatory black and white photos and with even a compulsory Suffolk Coast reference (with Anna Freud’s time in Walberswick).
Freud is an ever present influence on the book – firstly in providing much of the material around which the book is written (he and particularly his daughter Anna are key recurring characters) and secondly in consciously following his ideas of free association/train travel with a series of 256 one page chapters which (other than some concluding editing) were written five days a week for almost a year – each over 50 minutes (to mimic I think the analysis time in an hour session).
The title is from French alphabet primers – with the idea of a sequence of words or illustrations starting with the same letter. Here – the key is A – and in particular an effective sorority of women whose names begin with A (and even more ideally are variations on Anne).
So we start with Anna Freud (to avoid I assume paternalism second names are reduced to a letter – so in fact Anna F), but we also have at different times: Anna O (patient of Josef Breuer on whom ie developed the talking cure); Anna P(avolva) – the ballerina; Arachne and Ariande (from Greek mythology); Ariana R(eines) – the modern American poet; Anne S(erre) – the author; Annie E(rnaux) – Nobel Laureate; Anna K(avan) – British novelist and short story writer; Anne W(iazemsky) – actress and Robert Bresson muse; Ananda D(evi) – author of Eve Out Of Her Ruins; and even Ali S(mith) whose Seasonal Quarter provides a song for the last chapter (and whose partner Sarah Wood seems to have been a key encouragement for the novel).
A quick aside here – there is a lot of thematic overlap (if almost no character recurrence) with the Booker shortlisted “After Sappho” – but this book probably also has a little of the same issue of being rather lighter on intersectionality than it is on diversity (and in largely the same way).
Returning to this book - recurring themes include: storytelling and weaving; male patriarchal dominance (if not even abuse) – including and particularly in father-daughter, Uncle-niece or master-maid relationships – these are followed not just through historical characters but also through fictional works.
The writing is I think a lot easier to follow when you have some familiarity with the subjects – as the condensed daily format and deliberately neutral tone does not give much space for exposition (not assisted by the lack of patriarchal surnames so that even Googling takes some time). So for example – my familiarity with Anne S(erre)’s “The Governess” and even more so the plots and nuances of ballets such as “Giselle” and “The Nutcracker” and (slightly oddly) my knowledge of “The Sandman” less from Metallica and more from “Coppelia” meant that I really enjoyed the sections of the book dealing with these whereas many other chapters rather lost me and my rating reflects my ability to only really appreciate some of the novel.
One final comment – one of my issues with genre fiction is how books, even when trying to be different seem unable to shed certain genre conventions/constraints – for example Fantasy novels always have to be in a series of at least 3; Detective novels to stretch coincidence too far by having the main character a magnet for crimes. And this Sebaldian genre novel can also not escape the constrains with the obligatory black and white photos and with even a compulsory Suffolk Coast reference (with Anna Freud’s time in Walberswick).
December 4, 2023
Abécédaire is a a raveling and unraveling of associations. In this work, Sharon Kivland tasked herself with writing once a day for the length of an analytic hour, letting her mind travel, letting her mind weave its web of associations, connections that always come back to A., Anna, Anna F(reud), and, of course, Freud himself.
"As for my characters, many of their names begin with A. Some of these women exist or existed, others are from fiction, or write fiction. Some are friends or acquaintances. None are credited but a keen reader could recognise many of them. I invented nothing. I am the aleph. "
Anna becomes another Anna, Anne, Ann Quin, Annie Ernaux, Anne Serre, HD, Anne Wiazemsky, Amina Cain, A from Last Year at Marienbad, Angela Carter, and the many mythological A's like Ariadne, Athena (this is psychoanalysis, this is Freudian, we must have our Greek myths and gods).
But as threads ravel and unravel, so does our author, losing herself in the sea of words, words that belong to others. Short interjections by the author almost come to us as cries for help.
"I was tired: the year unfolded, time passed, and I was slowly disappearing. Each day I diminished, shrinking among or into the words of others by my own volition. I found myself digressing as I contracted, as though I were unravelling, led here and there, willy nilly, as some words registered while others did not, as they did not strike their mark, so to speak, or became undone."
A very interesting work, that experiments with fiction and non-fiction forms and deconstruct the heck out of the narrative. Recommended reading for forays into the fourth dimension.
More quotes:
"Myths, certainly manage unknown quantities through narrative measures, like women and stars, death: the symboltc work of redeciphering."
"I have taken liberties in stringing together her words, in omitting words. I would say to her that I was sorry, to be another mind that by error has been taken in the gentlest of winds, but winds are sometimes gods with dominion over flowers and plants."
"Rosmarie W. wrote that even if a woman sat at a loom, it did not mean she must weave a cosmogony or clothes to cover the emptiness underneath."
"There were other voices, sometimes, reminding me that once there was a time when I wanted to know everything, while now, this time, in the present, in the day to day, I sought to know nothing. There was nothing to know. This was self-deception. There was too much to know and it was exhausting, It was troubling."
"Her husband returned unexpectedly that evening. Husbands always do, unless they are dead."
"Ariadne was both fille and fil, daughter and thread, unravelling and ravelling."
"As for my characters, many of their names begin with A. Some of these women exist or existed, others are from fiction, or write fiction. Some are friends or acquaintances. None are credited but a keen reader could recognise many of them. I invented nothing. I am the aleph. "
Anna becomes another Anna, Anne, Ann Quin, Annie Ernaux, Anne Serre, HD, Anne Wiazemsky, Amina Cain, A from Last Year at Marienbad, Angela Carter, and the many mythological A's like Ariadne, Athena (this is psychoanalysis, this is Freudian, we must have our Greek myths and gods).
But as threads ravel and unravel, so does our author, losing herself in the sea of words, words that belong to others. Short interjections by the author almost come to us as cries for help.
"I was tired: the year unfolded, time passed, and I was slowly disappearing. Each day I diminished, shrinking among or into the words of others by my own volition. I found myself digressing as I contracted, as though I were unravelling, led here and there, willy nilly, as some words registered while others did not, as they did not strike their mark, so to speak, or became undone."
A very interesting work, that experiments with fiction and non-fiction forms and deconstruct the heck out of the narrative. Recommended reading for forays into the fourth dimension.
More quotes:
"Myths, certainly manage unknown quantities through narrative measures, like women and stars, death: the symboltc work of redeciphering."
"I have taken liberties in stringing together her words, in omitting words. I would say to her that I was sorry, to be another mind that by error has been taken in the gentlest of winds, but winds are sometimes gods with dominion over flowers and plants."
"Rosmarie W. wrote that even if a woman sat at a loom, it did not mean she must weave a cosmogony or clothes to cover the emptiness underneath."
"There were other voices, sometimes, reminding me that once there was a time when I wanted to know everything, while now, this time, in the present, in the day to day, I sought to know nothing. There was nothing to know. This was self-deception. There was too much to know and it was exhausting, It was troubling."
"Her husband returned unexpectedly that evening. Husbands always do, unless they are dead."
"Ariadne was both fille and fil, daughter and thread, unravelling and ravelling."
August 29, 2024
I loved diving into the sticky webs of connection, mycelial-linked Annas, unconscious currents of daily bursts. I love the form & ideas, it makes me want to create
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews