Called by some the French Borges, by others the creator of le nouveau
roman a generation ahead of its time, Raymond Queneau's work in fiction
continues to defy strict categorization. The Flight of Icarus (Le Vol d'lcare)
is his only novel written in the form of a play: seventy-four short
scenes, complete with stage directions. Consciously parodying Pirandello
and Robbe-Grillet, it begins with a novelist's discovery that his
principal character, Icarus by name, has vanished. This, in turn, sets
off a rash of other such disappearances. Before long, a number of
desperate authors are found in search of their fugitive characters, who
wander through the Paris of the 1890s, occasionally meeting one another,
and even straying into new novels. Icarus himself--perhaps following
the destiny his name suggests--develops a passion for horseless
carriages, kites, and machines that fly. And throughout the almost
vaudevillian turns of the plot, we are aware, as always, of Queneau's
evident delight at holding the thin line between farce and philosophy.
