The Years is a recent memoir by a French writer, Annie Ernaux. The Years is also the title of Virginia Woolf’s 1937 novel. Doubly intrigued, I read Ernaux and marveled at the way she tells her story, never using the word “I,” so that it stands as a collective memoir of a generation, hers and mine. I also found a bridge between Ernaux and Woolf.
I’m grateful to the editors of Bloom, who gave me an enthusiastic go-ahead when I pitched this piece to them and now feature it online here.