The Elementary Particles by Michel Houellebecq Page B

I’m not young or good-looking enough and I’m certainly not cool enough. My hair’s falling out, I’m getting fat. Worse than that, the older I get, the more terrified I am of rejection. I’m just not
natural
enough, not enough of an
animal.
It’s a permanent handicap because no matter what I say or do, no matter what I buy, I can never overcome it, because it’s a natural handicap.”
    From the first time he went to stay with his mother, Bruno knew he would never be accepted by the hippies; he was not and never would be a noble savage. At night, he dreamed of gaping vaginas. It was about then that he began reading Kafka. The first time, he felt a cold shudder, a treacherous feeling, as though his body were turning to ice; some hours after reading
The Trial
he still felt numb and unsteady. He knew at once that this slow-motion world—riddled with shame, where people passed one another in an unearthly void in which no human contact seemed possible—precisely mirrored his mental world. The universe was cold and sluggish. There was, however, one source of warmth—between a woman’s thighs; but there seemed no way for him to reach it.
    It was becoming increasingly clear that something was wrong with Bruno. He had no friends, he was terrified of girls, his entire adolescence was a disaster. His father realized this with a growing sense of guilt. He insisted that his ex-wife join them for Christmas 1972 so they could discuss the problem. As they talked, it became clear that Bruno’s half brother was at the same school (in a different class) and that the boys had never met. This single fact hit Bruno’s father hard, for it epitomized the utter breakdown of their family, a breakdown for which they were both to blame. Asserting his authority for the first time, he insisted that Janine contact her other son and try to salvage what she could.
    Janine had no illusions as to Michel’s grandmother’s opinion of her, but it was to prove even worse than she expected. Just as she was parking the Porsche outside the house in Crécy-en-Brie, the old woman came out carrying a shopping bag. “I can’t stop you from seeing him,” she said curtly, “he’s your son. Now I’m off to do some shopping. I’ll only be a couple of hours, and I don’t want to find you here when I get back.” Then she turned on her heel.
    Michel was in his room. Janine pushed open the door and went in. She had intended to kiss him, but when she moved toward him he jumped back nearly a meter. He had grown to look strikingly like his father: the same fine blond hair, the same sharp features and high cheekbones. She had brought him a present: a record player and some Rolling Stones albums. He took them without a word. He kept the record player, but smashed the records some days later. His room was austere, without a single poster on the wall. A math book lay open on his desk. “What are you working on?” she asked. “Differential equations,” he answered reluctantly. She had wanted to talk to him about his life, invite him on vacation; obviously that was out of the question. She simply told him that his brother would be coming to visit him, and he nodded. She had been there almost an hour, and the silences were becoming more drawn out, when they heard Annabelle’s voice from the garden. Michel ran to the window and shouted for her to come in. Janine watched the girl as she opened the gate. “She’s pretty, your girlfriend,” she said, her mouth twisting slightly. The word lashed Michel like a whip, and his whole expression changed. Annabelle passed as Janine was climbing into the Porsche; the woman stared at her, her eyes filled with loathing.
    Michel’s grandmother felt no antipathy toward Bruno. In her blunt but essentially accurate opinion, he was another victim of Janine’s parenting skills. Every Thursday afternoon Bruno would go to see Michel, taking the train from Crécy-la-Chapelle. If it was possible—and it almost always was—he