About Uncle by Rebecca Gisler
Translated from French by Jordan Stump
Review by Eleanor Phillips.
Rebecca Gisler’s novel About Uncle takes some of our most realistic nightmares, an extended period of time with our repulsive slob of an uncle and makes it a reality. Uncle lives in a French coastal town where his niece and nephew stay with him in the wake of a lockdown. Uncle’s niece, an unnamed young woman whose perspective this short work is told from, has a patience unlike what I’ve ever seen before. By the end of the novel, she is the last one staying with Uncle, as her mother and brother have found reasons to leave. Though her uncle has strange and disgusting habits, an unusual routine, and a complicated past, she never tires from caring for him. She might complain and scold him at times, but About Uncle reveals the admiration she has for the freeness with which he lives.
Throughout reading, I had to close the book numerous times to audibly say, “Ew,” but this only increased my admiration for the niece and nephew who feel drawn to their Uncle and his unique way of living life. They embody familial dedication that many aspire to have, putting Uncle’s needs before their own though he does not always express gratitude for their commitment. His niece even admits early in the novel that she is not immune to the antics of Uncle, but rather, “if [she] can keep calm it’s because [she’s] used to these explosions” (Gisler 9). There seems to be an element of internal obligation for why his niece especially decides to stay with Uncle, but still it feels deeper than just this. There is a harmony between them, their coexistence charming within Uncle’s home and yard. Sprinkled throughout are memories she has from her childhood, visiting Uncle when they would all play dress up. The children and Uncle have a special string tying them together, that Uncle, “only stopped playing to take a drag on his cigarette, and the cigarette might have been the one thing that distinguished us from each other, him the uncle and us the children, the real children” (15). Besides the fondness of nostalgia and the forces unknown pulling her there, the woman admits they spent four months at Uncle’s house “for reasons I don’t entirely understand” (18). The charm at the heart of this novel is that we can be drawn to whoever feels natural, and we shouldn’t feel ashamed for wanting the company of our less than hygienic Uncle.
Translated to English from French by Jordan Stump, the novel uses an interesting style of long-winded sentences taking up pages at a time. In a single sentence you will find colorful imagery, casual conversation, and intense truths or dark family secrets. Not once in this novel did I know what the next piece of information given would be, but that made for a truly unique reading experience. We are thrown for a whirlwind while reading just as his niece and nephew are as they exist within Uncle’s space, playing by his rules. This technique also gives the reader a better understanding of his niece herself, letting us into her stream of consciousness. We react to Uncle and his actions while simultaneously reading this niece’s reactions. We are forced to accept Uncle’s abnormalities because our narrator does, weaving through absurdities page by page.
The novel has a curious focus on animals throughout. Most notably, the young woman and her brother are tasked with translating the labels and ingredients of pet products, which they deem useless work. Later in the novel, Uncle becomes sick and is recommended to go to a doctor for all types of animals, along with Uncles. Their mother also has a deep attachment to her cats, one of which dies during their stay with Uncle. I might suggest that the theme of animals relates to Uncle. Uncle depends on his niece to keep him company and help him with daily tasks, as a pet would to their owner. His niece and nephew are drawn to their Uncle, reciprocally enjoy his company, and feel compelled to care for him, as if he were their pet. More blatantly, Uncle’s lack of hygiene and state of his room are animalistic rather than human. His room is only clean when his niece and nephew take the time to do so, as a pet’s cage is only clean until their owner tends to it. This theme emphasizes that even the saddest looking of creatures need love and attention, and that human empathy spreads far and wide.
The translating that the niece and nephew do might seem pointless to them, but it made me consider the importance of having novels like About Uncle translated for a wider audience. The meta moment of the woman saying their work of translation, “serves no purpose” because their labels will never be read by the animals consuming the food is ironically funny (65). Their labor of translation is of no use to them, but this highlights how crucial translation of literature is. Humans are creatures that should consume literature as much as they would food, making Stump’s job necessary for his audience. Unlike the labels of pet food, translated novels are read and consumed by humans, enriching our experience through digesting writing and culture we might not have otherwise been exposed to. Reaching for translated works is crucial to diversifying our shelves. Especially non-traditional stories like the plot and format of About Uncle, reading this work has increased my appreciation for the author and translator’s efforts. Stump’s work in capturing Gisler’s form expresses the belief he had in the novel. Translated works are important to work into a reader’s repertoire as there have been extra efforts for it to reach an audience. There is further focus on language in this novel, as the brother and sister are close in a way that is difficult to describe. They have their own sort of language, “a sort of pidgin that’s ours alone” likely the reason they can withstand Uncle’s presence for so long (46). The woman beautifully describes their communication:
“we swallow our words, we chew them with our mouths open, we maim them, some of the syllables stay stuck to our uvulas, and to make it worse we talk so fast that she can’t understand us” (46).
Their mother is an outsider to the relationship of her children, and the diction here represents the awkward feeling of using their secret language as a coping mechanism for their environment of Uncle’s abode. The examples of forms of communication highlight the many things language can provide us. I appreciate Stump’s work of translating this novel because he transforms it from a language a certain audience would not understand and opens it up to a wider audience. It connects readers to the text and readers of multiple languages together through the text. English readers become brothers and sisters to the original French-speaking audience, allowing About Uncle to be our own sort of pidgin. If your curiosity is piqued by the complicated character of Uncle, indulge your fancy with this quick but impactful read. Rebecca Gisler’s About Uncle lingers in my mind even after finishing, reflecting on how much you would endure just to have the company of another.
Rebecca Gisler’s novel About Uncle takes some of our most realistic nightmares, an extended period of time with our repulsive slob of an uncle and makes it a reality. Uncle lives in a French coastal town where his niece and nephew stay with him in the wake of a lockdown. Uncle’s niece, an unnamed young woman whose perspective this short work is told from, has a patience unlike what I’ve ever seen before. By the end of the novel, she is the last one staying with Uncle, as her mother and brother have found reasons to leave. Though her uncle has strange and disgusting habits, an unusual routine, and a complicated past, she never tires from caring for him. She might complain and scold him at times, but About Uncle reveals the admiration she has for the freeness with which he lives.
Throughout reading, I had to close the book numerous times to audibly say, “Ew,” but this only increased my admiration for the niece and nephew who feel drawn to their Uncle and his unique way of living life. They embody familial dedication that many aspire to have, putting Uncle’s needs before their own though he does not always express gratitude for their commitment. His niece even admits early in the novel that she is not immune to the antics of Uncle, but rather, “if [she] can keep calm it’s because [she’s] used to these explosions” (Gisler 9). There seems to be an element of internal obligation for why his niece especially decides to stay with Uncle, but still it feels deeper than just this. There is a harmony between them, their coexistence charming within Uncle’s home and yard. Sprinkled throughout are memories she has from her childhood, visiting Uncle when they would all play dress up. The children and Uncle have a special string tying them together, that Uncle, “only stopped playing to take a drag on his cigarette, and the cigarette might have been the one thing that distinguished us from each other, him the uncle and us the children, the real children” (15). Besides the fondness of nostalgia and the forces unknown pulling her there, the woman admits they spent four months at Uncle’s house “for reasons I don’t entirely understand” (18). The charm at the heart of this novel is that we can be drawn to whoever feels natural, and we shouldn’t feel ashamed for wanting the company of our less than hygienic Uncle.
Translated to English from French by Jordan Stump, the novel uses an interesting style of long-winded sentences taking up pages at a time. In a single sentence you will find colorful imagery, casual conversation, and intense truths or dark family secrets. Not once in this novel did I know what the next piece of information given would be, but that made for a truly unique reading experience. We are thrown for a whirlwind while reading just as his niece and nephew are as they exist within Uncle’s space, playing by his rules. This technique also gives the reader a better understanding of his niece herself, letting us into her stream of consciousness. We react to Uncle and his actions while simultaneously reading this niece’s reactions. We are forced to accept Uncle’s abnormalities because our narrator does, weaving through absurdities page by page.
The novel has a curious focus on animals throughout. Most notably, the young woman and her brother are tasked with translating the labels and ingredients of pet products, which they deem useless work. Later in the novel, Uncle becomes sick and is recommended to go to a doctor for all types of animals, along with Uncles. Their mother also has a deep attachment to her cats, one of which dies during their stay with Uncle. I might suggest that the theme of animals relates to Uncle. Uncle depends on his niece to keep him company and help him with daily tasks, as a pet would to their owner. His niece and nephew are drawn to their Uncle, reciprocally enjoy his company, and feel compelled to care for him, as if he were their pet. More blatantly, Uncle’s lack of hygiene and state of his room are animalistic rather than human. His room is only clean when his niece and nephew take the time to do so, as a pet’s cage is only clean until their owner tends to it. This theme emphasizes that even the saddest looking of creatures need love and attention, and that human empathy spreads far and wide.
The translating that the niece and nephew do might seem pointless to them, but it made me consider the importance of having novels like About Uncle translated for a wider audience. The meta moment of the woman saying their work of translation, “serves no purpose” because their labels will never be read by the animals consuming the food is ironically funny (65). Their labor of translation is of no use to them, but this highlights how crucial translation of literature is. Humans are creatures that should consume literature as much as they would food, making Stump’s job necessary for his audience. Unlike the labels of pet food, translated novels are read and consumed by humans, enriching our experience through digesting writing and culture we might not have otherwise been exposed to. Reaching for translated works is crucial to diversifying our shelves. Especially non-traditional stories like the plot and format of About Uncle, reading this work has increased my appreciation for the author and translator’s efforts. Stump’s work in capturing Gisler’s form expresses the belief he had in the novel. Translated works are important to work into a reader’s repertoire as there have been extra efforts for it to reach an audience. There is further focus on language in this novel, as the brother and sister are close in a way that is difficult to describe. They have their own sort of language, “a sort of pidgin that’s ours alone” likely the reason they can withstand Uncle’s presence for so long (46). The woman beautifully describes their communication:
“we swallow our words, we chew them with our mouths open, we maim them, some of the syllables stay stuck to our uvulas, and to make it worse we talk so fast that she can’t understand us” (46).
Their mother is an outsider to the relationship of her children, and the diction here represents the awkward feeling of using their secret language as a coping mechanism for their environment of Uncle’s abode. The examples of forms of communication highlight the many things language can provide us. I appreciate Stump’s work of translating this novel because he transforms it from a language a certain audience would not understand and opens it up to a wider audience. It connects readers to the text and readers of multiple languages together through the text. English readers become brothers and sisters to the original French-speaking audience, allowing About Uncle to be our own sort of pidgin. If your curiosity is piqued by the complicated character of Uncle, indulge your fancy with this quick but impactful read. Rebecca Gisler’s About Uncle lingers in my mind even after finishing, reflecting on how much you would endure just to have the company of another.
Eleanor Phillips is a writer from Red Bank, New Jersey. She is currently studying English Literature at Providence College in Rhode Island.
