For an actress who has been famous since her teens and a household name across continents, publishing a book is the easy part. Selling it, after all, is rarely in doubt. Becoming a writer of substance, however, is another matter. Sophie Marceau appears determined to prove that the two need not be mutually exclusive.
Late last month, Marceau arrived at the National Museum of Modern Chinese Literature, where magnolia blossoms were in full bloom, to introduce the Chinese edition of her latest book, La Souterraine. Seventeen years separate her debut work from this new collection, which features 13 short stories and seven poems.
At the event, Marceau read passages in French, including one from a poem titled I Always Leave a Book Open:
She is a beautiful woman in love.
Whose eyes hold a deep sorrow
For those she loves.
The black irises
Have been torn apart until death.
Her words reveal a different facet of Marceau, distinct from the poised and sophisticated image familiar to the public."Literature is closest to the self," she says.
As an actress, she explains, expression has long resided in her body — an outward form of performance shaped by gesture and presence. Writing, by contrast, turns inward, drawing from the deepest currents of thought.
Only when she sits alone at her desk, she says, can she fully give voice to her ideas. "Literature is dizzying; it has no boundaries. It is a territory that excites me utterly."
The book's title, La Souterraine, carries multiple layers of meaning. In French, it refers to an underground river, while also alluding to a village Marceau once passed through. "The underground river is always flowing, yet its source is unknown. It can symbolize women, mystery, depth, or many kinds of emotion."
Marceau describes her writing process as both delicate and urgent, likening it to catching a butterfly with one's hands before it can slip away.
"Reading her writing shocks me," renowned Chinese author Mai Jia says at the launch. "Through her words, I see the pain, struggle, and inner life of a celebrity I once admired from afar."
Drawing a contrast between acting and writing, Mai Jia invokes figures from film history — actors like Marlon Brando in The Godfather and Matthew McConaughey in Dallas Buyers Club — who transform themselves physically to connect with audiences. Writers, he argues, pursue something different. "Actors aim to reach the audience; writers aim to reach themselves. By that measure, Sophie Marceau succeeds.
"I did not expect someone so famous to explore themselves so deeply. It takes courage to confront one's own truth," he adds.
Marceau agrees, noting that, in an age saturated with information, sincerity may be the only universal language left.
The book's Chinese translator, Huang Hong, says that she first learned French while watching Marceau's films, an experience shared by many in China, where audiences have been familiar with her work since the 1980s. Marceau serves as an early introduction to French cinema through films such as La Boum (The Party) and L'Etudiante (The Student).
While translating La Souterraine, Huang was struck by the prominence of women in Marceau's writing: her mother, her grandmother, and others encountered on film sets and in daily life. She suggests that such perspectives may resonate with female readers and encourage them to write their own stories.
The audience at the event included many young female writers. To them, Marceau offered a brief but pointed message: "If one script is given to 10 different directors, there will be 10 different films. And it is how you perceive it that is the most important. Finally, good luck with your work.
"The future is yours."
baishuhao@chinadaily.com.cn
