And all of a sudden, it was steamy. And it was dark. And everyone was off their nut – it was the perfect place for acid house. It really was the uniqueness of the design and the grandeur of the ‘cathedral-like’ spaces...It really lent itself to the music and really came into its moment with the hordes...that wanted to celebrate house music at that time...It seemed to say, ‘whoever you are, whatever you wear, wherever you’re from – you’re welcome here.’
This quote from Peter Hook (as well as a similar one from Ken Hollings that to go into a club and dance was a political act in itself) demonstrates the potent myth of the dancefloor: a place where everyone takes to the floor and, depending on who you talk to:
- Transcend your ordinary surroundings through the power of music.
- Create a euphoria so potent that it could solve world problems in that moment.
- Indulge in a communal atmosphere where everyone is at one.
Individualistic and collectivistic. Quite the combination.
However, there is a dark side to it: shit drugs, the comedowns and the appalling music.
But for some, it’s a way of life. Just like the protagonist of this novel.
First published in France in 2022 under the title L'homme qui danse (which roughly translates as The Man Who Dances), a recent translation into English has seen it being heaped with praise.
Ostensibly about a man named Arthur, it is also a look at the rise and fall of club culture from the 2000’s onwards as the post September 11th hedonism gives way to social media, stopping just before Covid.
Arthur is a simple, yet complex character. He cannot express his isolation in any meaningful or grandiose way, so he simply repeats the same formula (working out, clubbing, sleeping) and never expresses a great desire to do anything else with his life. Yet it is obvious that what was one a lifeline to him has become something that has entrapped him to the extent where he wants to move on but doesn’t know how to.
Crippled by his insecurities and his lack of ambition, he carries on clubbing regardless. He also doesn’t appear to have any knowledge of the outside world (there are no mentions of the Charlie Hebdo/Bataclan murders, the Gilets Jaunes protests, the ban on face coverings and the Lyon synagogue attack) and there are hints that his sexuality is, to quote Bishop Hope, something of a grey area.
With such thin characteristics, it is up to the fast-paced tale which starts in 1990 and ends in 2019 to carry the book. And what it highlights is not just how transient Arthur’s life is but also how we can end up in a routine that, while initially making sense, sees us reach a certain age with little to show for it.
Stylistically, the writing is bare bones. On one hand, this really fits with the theme expressed above but it also makes for a dry and monotonous read at times. It’s possible that something has been lost in the translation from French to English but ones gets the feeling this should be much more philosophical than it is.
Solid, if unspectacular.
Victor Jestin, Sam Taylor (translator) Dancefloor, Scribner ISBN-13: 978-1398531697
















