"Yves Bonnefoy works in a tiny apartment in Montmartre, a few steps from where he lives. His windows at the back look over a small garden, one of the few remaining parts of Montemartre that has not been built upon—a huge maple tree shades the building and the rose-covered walls. The apartment is jam-packed with books and tables, the largest of which is the poet’s desk, so crowded that it hides him almost completely from view. A small, worm-eaten statue of Sainte Barbe, 'early seventeenth-century', a Giacometti lithograph of his wife Annette, an oil painting depicting Verlaine, Rimbaud, and Mathilde Mauté (Verlaine’s wife), and photographs of Rimbaud and Baudelaire somehow find space on the walls and in niches among the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. 'I cross the road every morning to try and work here quietly,' he explains. ..."
The Paris Review
amazon: The Arrière-Pays
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