Daniel Leduc

Daniel Leduc , born with Paris on July 30th 1950, is a writer French.

He made higher learning of cinematography.

He published a hundred news in various magazines and newspapers as well French as foreign. He collaborated in many reviews of poetry and was translated in ten languages. In the same way, he carried on activities of literary, artistic or cinematographic criticism.

An approach of the work of Daniel Leduc

The work of Daniel Leduc who includes/understands, (the list is not exhaustive), “the secular man, Silence of the stones, With the woven wire of the days, a source then another, Territoire of the poem, the song of the verb, is as the last quoted collection underlines it, the place of the word but this one is bond, it is the bond which links and divides, it creates as far as it reveals. No the world without the glance and the verb, but not of verb without the bond out of mirror which is established in the poet and the universe. Also, all things communicate between them by this bond which founds the poetic word, the words of the poet are never meant with whole share, from where profusion of these words employed by Daniel Leduc -- ground, sky, wind, tree, bird, stone as as many ways which irradiate starting from the man, as much from point of view on a relation man with cosmos and of the man to the man.

Thus poetry is then this act which connects, act which for Daniel Leduc is love. Because the words are things, and the things are words and the universe of the things is never said, always remains to be deciphered, from where the poetic search, which registers the man in the interrogation and the question, which inevitably calls with the meditation and silence.

Humanistic poetry par excellence, in which the man-poet is not simply nothing between two infinite, because if it is nothing, it is this nothing which oscillates, this nothing per which the world can occur, it is this tremor by which the world acquires a direction, a reality which however requires to be questioned, and which although a fragile moment in resonance with the interior conscience of the poet, has his own oscillation…

The poems of Daniel say inlassablement the oscillation, quivering, resonance, the bond between all things. Transitory bond and always to reinvent, which defines the poetic act as place of division. As Daniel Leduc acknowledges it, the poet gives his sentences to those which have the glance to prolong them, so that the day becomes night and that the night becomes day. The division is gift, and this gift clarifies fragile continuity between the things, reveals a direction among the infinity of the possible directions. What reveals and sings the poetry of Daniel Leduc, the whole universe is of poetic gasoline, the place where oscillate any thing, and the poet, in this quivering, this oscillation of the whole, medium and creator, becomes the alive echo of the poetic word in gestation in each glance, itself echo of his human mirror. Thus the dialog is created but never does not blow the verb.

Existential search, major feeling to be able to seize the things because they do not fall under any vision which would seize them in their “being intimates”… The work of Daniel Leduc registers the man in a completely privileged relation with cosmos. Beyond the concepts. The bird is the writing, the writing is the sheet, the tree connects bottom and the top, and in this profusion of images, correspondences, the entire world becomes message - as well to write as to decipher… The elements seem present to be known as, written, but the relation which them bed with other mysteries that opens should be deciphered again. The bird, not to quote that - is to him messenger, but it is not without the wind which is not without the tree which is not without the sheet. The wind rests against the tree. The bird becomes the rain, which breaks against the tree. Time is a flash, and the lightning lives in the tree; in the obscure destitution of ourselves. (The secular man)

It is this extreme clearness which traverses the work of Daniel Leduc and who wants to show at which point the poetic search is like an uninterrupted walk in direction of a certain light, of a dubious paddle. Extreme clearness, therefore, where the poet know themselves by advance condemned to wander, nomad, stateless person, brother of any thing, because brother of the fugacity of a certain reality which its vision cuts out and retains. Conscience of its finitude has, in the middle one night which encircles it of any share, is paradoxically what tears off it with oneself, with this same nothing, to lead it towards one “elsewhere”. Consequently because the emotion comes from a quivering, of a negligible tremor which shakes the being in its beliefs, were of a world where crowned is absent, this emotion, this wrenching, is exile and recognition of the otherness of the Whole, and the emotion becomes joy, joy fragile, inexpressible, joy flash, light which opens the way, the ground to be plowed patiently…

" Your life rings these curves which reflect the water of the mirrors not affirming anything, you can reappear, the eclipses, the equinoxes, Adrets, ubacs, and other stunt-flyings, they are the birds of your islands, walk is your dancing friend Plurielles thus go the Singulière sufferings is the joy which you enfante."

For Daniel Leduc, therefore, poetry is perpetual touch, set of caresses, curves, drawings which give to see, which gives to being. Gift, love divide, as many terms which marry each other in order to show at which point the world as a enigma is desire, and that as a desire is caress, and as a caress, a touch., because poetry, in its desire to say the Logos, in its need to open the world will use the words to try to express the inexpressible one. To say the tree, it is never to refer about it to its concept, the poet included/understood it, since the concept of the tree is only one general information, a cutting in the world of reality, an approximation. Thanks to the poet, the tree remains, but its dimension opens with those of the other things, the bond is established and the plural correspondences appear. It is this ad infinitum burst vision, this voyage of the body and the spirit in the middle of the unvoiced comment, which is source of astonishment of joy. It is this way which delivers us concept, which makes us hear the song of an indivisible totality, but dynamic that Daniel Leduc does not cease describing.

And the poet remains, beyond the concepts, that which is wary of the universal ones, of the eternal ideas, of the eternal ideas, which refuses any dogma, any system which would too easily give an account of its presence in the world. The poet remains deeply enraciné in the things and in its own otherness which founds it and pushes it with being.

I also held to stress the extreme importance of the paradox in the poetry of Daniel Leduc, who with my direction is worked out primarily only around one dialectical as one finds as well in the form of his poems as in what is itself. Flow and backward flow, circulation which involves us, retains us, carries us always ahead, a little further each time, with the image of the ocean and of its inaccessible horizon which we carry in us. Paradoxical, the man is this wave which does not cease, at the same time, wave and particle, form and matter to undulate and come one moment, étreindre the body of the world, to die out, but this death like the single possibility of one second birth in us, of one second wave to be born.

The poetry of Daniel Leduc has lyricism, too often absent from texts which one says minimalists, but she does not neglect any therefore to pose the finitude of the man, the existential drama of the poet in each human being which can be moulted only in one search, that of a advance without end. Lyricism, here is not nostalgia, it is hope, spark of hope, with the image of the man and the woman who only marry themselves to extinguish a short moment, their desire remained desire, their wandering, term which returns on several occasions in the words of the poet, like the tree or the bird, the body, walk… And still, any walk is a desire which is announced, a projection towards the body of the spirit, and the spirit of the body. The step cherishes, or strikes; slip on the threshold of the ground; on its skin. The man from goes away towards the woman; and the woman comes herself from there towards the man. Both intertwine in a movement of escape, and reference mark, and enchantment of the reference mark. All exists in the dash and solidifies in the attack (extracted from Femmes ). (Patrick Raveau).

Division and light of the words

To follow the work of Daniel Leduc with attention since his first publications, the reader can observe with happiness that words, in which one cannot obviously all arrange, contain the essence of the poetic word of the poet. The titles of the collections are exemplary. A triptych emerges from this work around the word “Delivers”: nomads, storms, sunning. Then a diptych around the word “Divides”: light and word.

For Daniel Leduc, the world, - S' it is always a mystery open on the unknown which the poet must reveal, remains before any Ground of the Men, this ground of a material reality that the poet invites to become fraternal and interdependent. The words, the word, the poem, these communicating vases between the beings, the pastoral advance of the wandering people, research for the poem of the place just, are here the Ark of the Covenant without which “the breathing of the world”, cannot remain. The poet wants to make share his dream, sometimes even if he regards it as utopian. But “us” plural who guides it in his wandering projection does not seem to be a collective of mass. This “us” could join together only some beings ready with the division of the word and the light that already the poem would have reached one of its tops.

Not, we will say to the poet, “the words/on the page (are not) such of the steps/in the desert”, i.e. isolated and lost in the vastness. The words, such as they to us are proposed here, are columns of the temple and support with force the idea that the world of human must carry the hope.

Still is necessary it to keep this confidence which often slips between the fingers as the sand of the desert and the poem of Daniel Leduc saw a wandering which seems to increase in its poetic space.

The vertical and narrow form selected for the book of the nomads however induces the little of reserved space to this hope all while stretching it almost ad infinitum in this populated billion desert grains of sand, as many single individuals who would have gathered open palms to collect all the possible ones:

We have

sought

the flower

of division

and

it let us have

found

between hands

of sand.

never let us speak

enough

about the crossed countries

as well it is true

as the verb makes the friend

and that the friend

makes the verb.

“Us cultivons/le verb”, tells us the poet who does not want to forget that at the beginning was the Verb but also the division of the verb, the division of the word. Obviously we are in the universe of a poet who uses like living matter and first, the verb, the words, the word, the writing. But without remaining fixed in this matter; the division is made also silence and glance, two postures that it enables us to divide in its texts where bonds between the directions are consolidated by landscapes and some metaphors more philosophical than graphic which suggest us a take-off towards a parentèle rimbaldienne than we always like:

then we will fit

shoes

of desire

to the soles of wandering.

To wander, nomader in the wind of the desert, it is well one of the loads of the modern poet, but the desert is not any more what it was, it from now on urban and is populated absences and shades.

However, the poet does not want to remain about it there. If it is always in the research of the place just to share its poem, it lends itself readily to the play of the light for better leaving the shade. The words must light the most moved back territories, to advance on traces already printed by “soles of wind”, to go, always to go and carry in its havresac the words of those which lived the same adventure in direction of a space time of a grammar unified in past, present and future: “Because where we go the past, the present and the future dig”.

To walk without slackening, the poet somewhat loses the poem for a widened prose confronted with the vernacular language which reduces the density of the poetic matter. But it is necessary for him to pass some by finding there answer to the questioning of the absence and the shade. So that the landscape drawn by the words is not only the appearance of the word and the writing but well the word and the writing in its essential foundations.

Sometimes Daniel Leduc seems to move away from the poem for a different creation, a movement which implies a more constant reflection, metaphysical reflection already incarnated in the older books.

We thus should read it differently. In a more direct call, in something moreover dispersed which prolongs its nomadism and centres its cry: “It there has in the seasons, the seasons of division, absence, sunning - this is why living it sing-laughs, howl-and-despairs… - the poet, into light distance with the poem, changes into a storyteller and assied under a tree.

The storyteller shares the words and the legend. He tells the world of last and that of the future. He breaks unbearable silence to try an ultimate opening on a way without light. He projects his audience in the beginning of his world, with the birth without Verbe, when the maternal love is the only possible and recognized bond. The speaker changed his dress of poet for that of storyteller and deploys the sentences of the memory, evoking his ancestors as the pillars of a certain wisdom which we would have lost. Book, the words are delivered and live another life.

“It is because the signs are dubious that there will be literature” (Roland Barthes) can one read forward of the Books of the division. The writing of Daniel Leduc who seemed indeed more dubious to us in proses of the Book of the sunning finds the sharp incarnation of the “Territory of the poem” and the passion of the words which underlines Venus Khoury-Ghata in fourth from cover, is added to its faith in humanity in measurement or the man speaks and shares his word for more knowledge and more love:

“the Man is a language

clear Opaque and, transparent and visible”

The words, the love, the division transported by the light, with speed of light, decline the landscapes of love hoped by the poet like only tangible knowledge of the universe:

“Between the man and the woman

which is this light

which tries to travel”

To travel of a book to the other, of a love to a fraternity, to travel inside an open world where the other, the foreigner who finds land of welcome in this “House To be it” house of poetry in which words write, link himself, are confronted and say:

“What connects the gestures with the world

it is often of simple words

at the edge of the lips. Simple words”

These simple words make the existence alive to the turning of the way and the sentence, in the sources of stars awaited by the poet, in this hope “That the Man belongs/to the words/which compose it”. The poet also belongs him to the words which compose it. He nourishes himself some and our reading nourishes some which it also evolves/moves with time, escaping from a light which does not light always in the same way our not felt.

It is the force of the poet who to give us various prisms of his poetic space: reality with imaginary until the hope. It is our freedom to look, according to the light, and of the paddle in the twilight, the unevennesses of a language which make us wander of a desert to a plenitude on a territory that we divide with the poet with only one certainty: that of the poem (Monique Labidoire).

Meet with the writer and poet Daniel Leduc

Interview of the Tunisian daily newspaper the Press (June 24th, 2002)

a window on the world

“Continuity to be it is in the perpetual motion of the thought, in the swinging of the clock to the research of the question, of the direction of the question, the direction of the direction of the question”. Thus Daniel Leduc in his work the book of the sunning affirms.

Daniel Leduc was born in Paris in 1950. Writer and poet, his writing constitutes a window open on the world, an helping hand towards the other, a fraternal bond between the author and the reader. It published forty news, collections of poetry, and, recently, two works: Share light (editions the Star of North - Canada - 2002) and the breathing of the days (editions Harmattan - 2002). It is a simple, intelligent man, sensitive to the richness of the world, life and deeply attached to the highest human values, which agreed to grant this maintenance to us.

If you had to introduce to you whom would say you?

- To present to me, I will present what I like, namely in the disorder: nature, friendship, the tolerance, women, artists, nomads, shepherds, researchers, children, books, music, the cinema, and so much of beings and things which it would be necessary of time to enumerate them.

And your works?

- My books are like as many helping hands towards the others. When they are written, they belong to me. Then, they take their take-off, do not belong to me more, become independent. Readers collect them; some are made friends of them. They belong from now on to those which read them.

What marked you more or influenced you in your writings?

- Many influences, especially teenager. Surrealism, modern poetry, the fantastic one and science fiction, certain philosophical (Montaigne, Voltaire, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche), of the writers such as Georges Bataille, Maupassant, Giono, Camus, Beckett, Witkiewiez… Later, Edmond Jabès, Paul Auster, Adonis, Paul Celan, Valère Novarina, Bernard-Marie Koltès… and so much of others… In addition to this, my taste for the music, painting, the theater, the cinema, for astronomy, linguistics, etc had certainly a resonance in my way of writing.

Which of your works identifies you more?

- All, also different are, emanate from my being and are thus reflection and depth of my personality. I never read again my books safe by professional obligation. It is then about a test to the negative direction of the term because what I find there is so distant from what I would have liked to put at it!

“All became appreciably possible in a dubious time” (the mother considers its days). And this will, optimism?

- In this passage, I speak about the birth, and for this reason, each new being is indeed carrying hope. As it is said that wise African who dies, it is a library which disappears, one can say just as a child who is born, it is a new world which comes to be offered to us. As long as there will be human beings on ground, the possible one will be present, function of a will to go towards the best, knowledge, the opening.

In your news “Of the books and”, one hears us “Deliver”, is to us this a call to freedom in all its forms; freedom of expression and freedom to learn?

- You have of course. This news denounces the act of censure which, not only can touch the books or any other cultural asset, but also freedom to think. With food, with the right of the ground, freedom of expression is a vital right which belongs to the human gasoline. Just as its corollary, freedom to learn. The free will should be registered in the Constitution of each country. He is one of inalienable freedoms of the human condition.

Which are your reflections, your sorrows, your concern and your hopes concerning the current human condition in the world: wars, racism, famine, and with the feelings which emergent with: indifference, selfishness and hatred?

- I think that, contrary to the development scientific and which follows an exponential curve, the moral direction, the ethics of the human being hardly made progress since mists of time. However, I dare to hope that one day, the man will not be more one wolf for the man, that it will be able to abolish its own mental borders, all his prejudices which maintain it in a narrowness of heart and spirit. What occurs on our ground pains me and revolts me. All these wars, these massacres whose people are always the victim. These oppressions, these famines which étiolent, which devastates… As for racism, it is an open wound which one does not know how to close again. Education, the voyages, friction with the others and their differences are probably among the best remedies. There still, the prejudices should be driven out unceasingly as one would drive out an animal immonde and malfaisante. As opposed to what of aucuns think, it does not have there civilization, of culture, people superiors or lower than others. There exists only one mankind on our old planet, with courses, stories, interpretations of reality different. Only one mankind! Each man, each woman, each child is entitled to the same dignity, which means freedoms, right to the vital elements, the ground, education, with the culture, right to the difference too. As long as there will be beings of good will in the world - and there is much - the hope of a better human condition will not be useless. Also I am an optimistic pessimist, a skeptic who has a certain number of certainty.

“the vain cries”, one hears the writer. Is this writer who writes in vain? It is because there is nobody with listening or because its cry is not enough strong to be made hear deaf persons?

- There still you have of course. The writer must unceasingly call himself in question if he wants to advance towards a better knowledge of the world. Its writings are reflective mirrors (in all the directions of the term), sometimes of the mirrors without silvering which can thus be crossed and behind which appear other aspects, other forms masked by only appearances. Not need to shout to be heard. The murmur can be sometimes stronger provided that it is carrying shade and light, nuance and clearness. With each one to listen, not what he wants to hear, but what resounds with deepest of him.

(Remarks collected by Ronz NEDIM)

Publications

the Breathing of the world , Arcam editions, 1988.
With the wire weaves days , editions the Wave with the heart, 1991.
the secular Man , editions Harmattan, 1993.
the Song of the verb (foreword of Serge Brindeau), editions Harmattan, 1995.
Territoire of the poem (foreword of Werner Lambersy), editions Bartavelle, 1996.
Enseignement of the paddle (foreword of Jean Rousselot, with seven original drawings of RV Miloux), Editinter editions, 1997.
the Book nomads (foreword of Jean-Claude Villain), Verlag Im Wald (Germany), 1997. Bilingual edition French-German, translation in German of Rüdiger Fischer, original drawings of Bertrand Sylvestre. Biliki republication, 2002.
the Book of the storms , editions Harmattan, 1997.
Of the paddle , editions Impressed, 1997. Work of art with limited pulling. With eight etchings colors of Bernadette Planchenault.
a source and another , editions Harmattan, 1999.
a nightingale on the balcony , editions the Blue Die (collection the blue Goblin ), 1999. Illustrations of Patrice Mazoué.
Silence of the stones , editions Bartavelle, 2000.
the Breathing of the days, editions Harmattan, 2002.
the Book of the sunning , editions NR and B, 2003.
Division of the word , followed Division of the light (text of presentation of Venus Khoury-Ghata), editions Harmattan, 2003.
Poetic of the word , editions Harmattan, 2005.
Pierre of the moon , editions Harmattan (collection Tales of the four winds ), 2006. Bilingual edition French-Arabic, translation of Mahi Seddik Meslem, illustrations colors of Edouard Lekston.
Grandole the giant , editions Harmattan, 2006. Illustrations black and white of Joanna Konatowicz.
Some traces in the wind (foreword of Pierre Dhainaut), editions Harmattan, 2007. Original cover of Lebadang.
the man who looked at the night , editions Harmattan (collection the legend of the worlds ), 2007. Bilingual edition French-Arabic, translation of Mahi Seddik Meslem.
the Mirror of water , editions Harmattan (collection Tales of the four winds ), 2007. Bilingual edition French-Arabic, translation of Mahi Seddik Meslem, illustrations colors of Virginia Marks of Souza.

Distictions

1988 : Price of the Trade union of the journalists and writers, for the Breathing of the world
1993: Rene-Lyr price, decreed by the Association of the Belgian writers, for the secular Man

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