Les textes d’Erik Satie

I’ll admit: I approached this expecting dry historical footnotes, not a 76-minute rollercoaster of wit, petulance, and fleeting beauty. Marthouret’s performance is *the* reason this works as an audiobook. His voice has that perfect French gravel—like a chain-smoking philosopher who’s seen too much but still finds the world ridiculous. When Satie rants about ‘the stupidity of the public’ or declares, ‘I came into the world very young, in an age that was not mine,’ Marthouret’s timing turns these lines from archival curiosities into living, breathing taunts. The production is sparse (thankfully—no overdone soundscapes), letting Satie’s words and Marthouret’s cadence carry the weight. That said, this isn’t for everyone. The brevity of the texts means the audiobook feels more like a collage than a narrative, and some pieces (like his *Definitions* of musical terms) will baffle listeners unfamiliar with his satirical targets. I also wished for a touch more context—Marthouret’s delivery assumes you *get* Satie’s inside jokes about 19th-century Parisian art circles. But those quibbles fade when you hit a line like, ‘I am not a musician; I am a phonometrician,’ delivered with such perfect pomposity that you’ll rewind just to hear it again. It’s a niche delight: part comedy, part art history, and wholly original. If you love Père Ubu’s theater or Kurt Schwitters’ sound poems, this is your audiobook soulmate.