When, in March 2019, the Covid pandemic led the Government to impose a total lockdown on ordinary life, Gabriel Josipovici began to write a diary tracing his life under the new dispensation. 100 Days responds to the escalating crisis, as well as to the arrival of Spring and then of Summer on the South Downs, but it is mainly concerned with a kind of accounting. Characteristically inventive, Josipovici chooses the ABC as a prospecting implement to stimulate reflection on subjects that run from Aachen to Alexandria, from Berio to the Border Ballads, from Zazie dans le metro to Zoos. Previously, he reminds us, he has 'plundered episodes in my life to illustrate the intertwining of memory and forgetting, the desire to remember and the need to forget.' 'Elly said to me after reading my recent book Forgetting,' he goes on, '"You don't seem to be afraid of revealing a great deal about yourself." But I don't think I feel it that way. I can "reveal" precisely because it does not seem to be part of me, it seems to belong to someone else, a writer I have lived with, an immigrant I have known.' Josipovici's book, more than a meditation on a hundred days of the pandemic, is a reckoning with one writer's life, with his life's work and with his readers.
