I am a writer. I write in French, because I am French, Belgian and Swiss, in no particular order. What I call “Swifranbel,” that improbable mixture of Switzerland, France and Belgium, is my country. Of course it’s only a phrase, because my real country is where people laugh. Unfortunately, people laugh less and less.
I am also an economist, a historian and a psychoanalyst. I have lots of degrees that were useless to me (besides, what good are degrees?). I have written about twenty books — essays, pamphlets, narratives, comic-book scripts — writing books is useless too, except as something to occupy oneself with, which is already not bad. I write about what interests me, without asking who will read me. In any case, one never writes except for oneself (and for a few others). Some of my books are serious, others much less so. It is probably those devoted to today’s society (the “social critique”) that bring you to this site. It is thanks to them that the New York Times called me an “icon of counterculture” and that the BBC included me in 2016 among the “100 most influential and inspiring women in the world.”
With my books I have had success, trouble and hangovers. I have exasperated my employer, scandalized parents, annoyed the French and seduced those who choose to laugh about it. Some people find my work in poor taste, because I mock work, family and homeland (not to mention the rest: omnipresent jargon, moral lessons, the dictatorship of Goodness and Health). Let the yes-men move on and go read elsewhere (if they read). Those looking for “beautiful style,” “nice stories” and “feel-good” books are in the wrong place.
It doesn’t matter anyway since everything is going to collapse. The situation is serious, let’s have fun !







