An Indiscreet Journey | Katherine Mansfield #ShortStory

An Indiscreet Journey was a short story written in 1915 by Katherine Mansfield but published posthumously in the 1924 collection, Something Childish and other stories by her husband John Middleton Murry. Initially it reads like a fairly straight forward story about a woman on a train journey to visit her aunt and uncle in the middle of the French war zone during WWI. Except she's not really visiting her aunt and uncle, she's meeting up her with her lover, a soldier. A very brief internet research also reveals this short story is based on the actual visit of Mansfield to her lover Carco in February 1915.

John Middleton Murry introduced Mansfield and Carco back in 1913. Murry and Mansfield were not married at until 1918, but their on again/off again bohemian relationship had begun in 1911. The affair between Carco and Mansfield seems to have run over the winter of 1914/1915.

With this story, we can see Mansfield exploring the idea of documenting the war as a social historian, as someone who is living through the thing she is describing. She shows us wounded soldiers, checkpoints and a mother reading a letter from her soldier son. She talks about gassing, firing lines, travel documents and curfews.

Mansfield leaves a lot unsaid here. The clandestine nature of the visit is alluded to but not directly approached. Most of the story is about the journey, not the actual purpose of the visit. The danger and tension of the war acts as a cover for the danger and tension of a secret assignation with a lover.

It turns out that the letter in the story, from the aunt, Julie Boiffard, inviting her to visit, is based on the real letter from Carco to Mansfield, that is now held in the Alexander Turnbull Library in Wellington, New Zealand. The fake nature of this letter explains, why the niece in the story keeps forgetting the surname of her aunt and uncle. 'Again I read the unfamiliar letter in the familiar handwriting.'

One of the curiosities that caught my eye was the 'ordinary little woman' sitting in the same carriage as as our narrator. 'She wore a black velvet toque, with an incredibly surprised looking seagull camped on the very top of it. Its round eyes, fixed on me so enquiringly, were almost too much to bear. I had a dreadful impulse to shoo it away.' 

I imagined something like this in my mind's eye:

However, it more likely resembled the image below. 

Birds and feathers were a feature on hats at this time, with many cartoons sending up this particular fashion by suggesting the addition of kittens and puppies. Mansfield seems to be tapping into this humorous vein to make fun of her own distress or guilt at her secret rendezvous, imagining that all eyes were on her and that everyone knew what she was up to.

Francis Carco depicted Mansfield as a magpie, a purloiner of gems from the lives and characters of those around her, who was incapable of putting a word on paper without having personally witnessed or experienced the sentiments it expressed. For all the distortion of his caricature, there is an element of truth in his notion that she was a writer who fed off her surroundings to an exceptional extent.1 If she didn't 'prey' off life, as Carco put it, she was certainly deeply 'rooted' in it.

Parkin-Gounelas Ruth. (1991) Katherine Mansfield: Far, Far Nearer. In: Fictions of the Female Self

I'm not particular surprised that Carco was dismissive of Mansfield's writing style. The two stories that feature him in some way are not very flattering. In fact Je ne parle pas Francois (1918) shows us a very unattractive, unlikable man indeed.

In An Indiscreet Journey we see a man who seems to get off on the secretive details of the tryst - the dash in a cab, through the streets where 'policemen are as thick as violets' to the door of the aunt and uncle, before being quickly bundled inside and shut up in the white room. He drops the suitcase and paper, she tosses her passport in the air and he catches it. End scene. 

Their time spent in the unnamed town is filled with visits to the local cafe for lunch and dinner every day, where they have a special table, that she has decorated with a little vase of violets. The final scene is the woman sitting at the table on her, imagining the passing years, watching the passing parade on the other tables...until her lover and his friend arrive. At the end we see the two men, quite drunk, discussing the merits and differences between the English whiskey and the French mirabelle as they eat their way through a little charcuterie platter.

Mansfield wrote to Virginia Woolf in 1919, "What the writer does is not so much to solve the question but to put the question. There must be the question put. That seems to me a very nice dividing line between the true & the false writer".

So what is the question being asked here?

Is it, once again, the difference between the English and the French.

Who do you trust?

Escape and freedom versus fear and guilt?

The joy of these stories is that we will never really know.

The delight is in the interpretation for each and every reader.

Part of the joy for me, is the researching, as I dig deeper into Mansfield's short life. Getting to know this fascinating woman has certainly been a highlight of my 2020 reading life so far.

Facts:

• From 20 – 22 February 2015, the town of Gray, near Dijon in France, hosted a weekend of celebrations, to commemorate the centenary of the visit by Katherine Mansfield to Gray in order to see Francis Carco.

My other Katherine Mansfield posts:

• Miss Brill (1920)
• The Wind Blows (1920)
• Psychology (1920)
• Je ne Parle pas Français (1918)
• An Indiscreet Journey (1915)

#ParisinJuly

Je ne Parle pas Français | Katherine Mansfield #ShortStory

Je ne Parle pas Français, or I Do Not Speak French was written in early 1918 and published in Bliss and other stories (1920).

There is a rather long and complicated story about the publication of this particular short story. It started life as a pamphlet published by Heron Press, which was run by John Middleton Murry (Katherine's husband at the time) and his brother, Richard Arthur Murry. They produced only 100 copies of the story in this format. The press was situated in the home of Murry and Mansfield in Hampstead Heath. Of the 100 copies, 20 were damaged. From the 80 left over, about 60 were sent out to reviewers in early 1920.

Anthony Alpers (The Life of Katherine Mansfield |1980) writes that "this little private-press edition in which it first appeared is very rare... Few know the story in its intended form." 

The December 1920 Constable publication of Bliss and other stories, contains an edited version of Je ne Parle pas Français. Apparently the end of the story in the original is rather different. 

The Norton Critical Edition edited by Vincent O’Sullivan (2006) contains the unedited version. The highlighted text below reveals the original story.

One day when I was standing at the door, watching her go (the African laundress who worked for his family when he was 10 yrs old), she turned round and beckoned to me, nodding and smiling in a strange secret way. I never thought of not following. She took me into a little outhouse at the end of the passage, caught me up in her arms and began kissing me. Ah, those kisses! Especially those kisses inside my ears that nearly deafened me. 

"And then with a soft growl she tore open her bodice and put me to her. When she set me down she took from her pocket a little round fried cake cover with sugar and I reeled along the passage back to our door.

My reaction:

• Wow! That's a HUGE reveal!
• The edited version left me wondering why this memory was so significant to Raoul.
• Did the lack of attention from his parents, make the affection from the laundress significant?
• But instead, we have a situation of power and sexual abuse of an older woman over a young boy.

Raoul never yet made the first advances to any woman:

"Curious, isn’t it? Why should I be able to have any woman I want? I don’t look at all like a maiden’s dream . . . ."

My reaction:

• By this point of the short story, I was convinced that Raoul was gay. 
• The extra sentence would seem to suggestion that perhaps he was bisexual.

Towards the end of the story Raoul says goodnight to a prostitute:

Not until I was half-way down the boulevard did it come over me—the full force of it. Why, they were suffering . . . those two . . . really suffering. I have seen two people suffer as I don’t suppose I ever shall again. . . . And . . . . ‘Goodnight, my little cat,’ said I, impudently, to the fattish old prostitute picking her way home through the slush . . . . I didn’t give her time to reply.

My reaction:

• One of the few times in this story where we see Raoul thinking about others.
• The extra sentence reminds us that he inhabits a fairly squalid part of Paris, despite his higher aspirations.

And so on and so on until some dirty gallant comes up to my table and sits opposite and begins to grimace and yap. Until I hear myself saying: ‘But I’ve got the little girl for you, mon vieux. So little . . . so tiny. And a virgin.’ I kiss the tips of my fingers—‘A virgin’—and lay them upon my heart.

My reaction:

• Without the 'virgin', this paragraph reads like a boast.
• With the 'virgin' it makes Raoul sound like a pimp!

The story’s original ending continues on from the 1920 censored text:

I must go. I must go. I reach down my coat and hat. Madame knows me. ‘You haven’t dined yet?’ she smiles. ‘Not, not yet, Madame. I’d rather like to dine with her. Even to sleep with her afterwards. Would she be pale like that all over? But no. She’d have large moles. They go with that kind of skin. And I can’t bear them. They remind me somehow, disgustingly, of mushrooms.

My reaction:

• The edited end, just ends.
• A man in a cafe, thinking about his next meal.
• The original reasserts the sexual nature that infuses the whole story.
• As well as reinforcing Raoul's ambivalence about the female body.

Francis Carco 1923

Raoul is apparently based on Mansfield's lover Francis Carco, a man with whom she had a brief affair with in 1915. Alpers claims that Mansfield is referring to Carco's cynical attitude towards love and sex via Raoul. 

Her story An Indiscreet Journey (1915) is also based on her journey through the war zone to spend four nights with Carco in Eastern France. 

I wonder if Mansfield was writing a homage to Carco's style of writing or did she think that Carco was gay but didn't know it, bisexual or was this her dig at a failed lover? Either way, Raoul is about as camp as you get in 1918 literature. And a not very pleasant fellow. I suspect the affair did not end well (I hope to know more when the bio about Mansfield that I've ordered finally arrives).

Raoul's penchant for stylish clothes, his flamboyant mannerisms, delusions of grandeur, cutting remarks, and his love/lust infatuation with Dick, the Englishman are all textbook versions of Havelock Ellis' sexual inversion theory, that was prevalent at the time.

My name is Raoul Duquette. I am twenty-six years old and Parisian, a true Parisian. About my family - it really doesn’t matter. I have no family; I don’t want any. I never think about my childhood. I've forgotten it.

Raoul was a gigolo, a dandy, crass, conceited, superficial and sexually ambiguous. He was an unreliable narrator with huge gaps in his story. The whole time I was reading this story, I had a Carly Simon earworm of 'You're So Vain' playing in the background. Raoul loved being front and centre and seemed to be playing to an imaginary audience the whole time. At the same time he was a social outcast, with no family that he will speak of, hanging out in seedy bars and cafes, pretending to be something he isn't, or just hoping that acting the part will make him so.

If a person looks the part, he must be that part.

He pretends to take us into his confidence, but we can never really trust him. He ends up revealing more than he thinks, although we're still left in the dark about pretty much everything. Perhaps this is how Mansfield felt after her brief affair with Carco?

There were a number of themes explored from the use of public and private spaces, the English vs the French and life as a stage (a homage to Shakespeare perhaps?). Metaphors abound with dogs, cats and a mouse, suitcases (to be unpacked) and mirrors (that reflect the surface not the substance).

‘But after all it was you who whistled to me, you who asked me to come! What a spectacle I’ve cut wagging my tail and leaping round you, only to be left like this while the boat sails off in its slow, dreamy way . . . Curse these English! No, this is too insolent altogether. Who do you imagine I am? A little paid guide to the night pleasures of Paris? . . . No, monsieur. I am a young writer, very serious, and extremely interested in modern English literature. And I have been insulted – insulted.’

Ultimately, Raoul is not very likeable.

He's selfish and mean and judgemental. 

He's careless and thoughtless. 

One feels pity for him and fears that he will never find the love and happiness he is so desperately searching for. He may speak French fluently, but he does not know the language of love. And maybe never will.

My other Katherine Mansfield posts:

• Miss Brill (1920)
• The Wind Blows (1920)
• Psychology (1920)
• Je ne Parle pas Français (1918)

#ParisinJuly

Book Stop #2

Book Stop is an occasional meme that allows me to travel and indulge in a good bookshop browse, during these strange, strange times when we cannot travel outside our home state, let alone the country. I plan to combine my bookish instincts with my itchy feet and explore the world via bookshops.

I have a number of bookstores on my to-visit wish list, if I am ever in that country, state or neighbourhood. This is the perfect time to share some of them and my reasons for wanting to visit (beside the obvious reason, of course!)

This edition of Book Stop will also be combined with Paris In July as we head off to Shakespeare & Company, 37 rue de la Bûcherie, 75005 Paris.

In July 1991 I spent three days in Paris. Nowhere near long enough, I'm sure you will all agree. 

We arrived late afternoon and went straight to one of the camping grounds that ring outer Paris. The plan was to set up camp and drive into Paris at sunset so that our first view of Paris proper would be at night, all lit up with the lights that make it so magical. We boarded a Seine River cruise and ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the lights as we glided past all those famous sites I'd only ever read about until that time.

The rest of the evening was spent wandering around the Left Bank, trying to work out how to order and pay for pastries.

Paris was my very first experience in a foreign speaking country. I was 23 and travelling alone within a group. I was rather overwhelmed by the whole thing. So much of my time in Paris is a blur. My photos and a few brief notes in my journal are the only record I have. 

I know I climbed all the stairs up the Eiffel Tower. The lines for the lift were long, even first thing in the morning, and I was young and fit. So climb I did!

1991 was the middle of the Gulf War and we were told that the city wasn't as full as usual with tourists as the war was keeping the American tourists at home. (I had already enjoyed the benefits of this in London during the past 5 months. I was nannying and tripping around the country on the weekends. The weekends I stayed in London, I was able to access last minute tickets for all the West End shows by lining up half an hour before the start. Every show had oodles of returned tickets thanks to the no-show of American tourists. I saw some amazing productions at a great price. No-one likes to perform to a half empty room!)

I still experienced Paris as being busy with bustling, hustling crowds, but apparently, most years it was worse!

The other problem with 1991 travelling, was the smoke haze from the fires in the Gulf. At the top of the Eiffel Tower our view was greatly impaired by the haze. The haze followed us all around Europe that summer.

I also remember climbing all the steps up the belfry of Notre Dame Cathedral in the stifling heat. I tasted escargot for the first (and last) time. I loved buying little cheese snacks at the corner convenience stores. I went through the Musée d-Orsay, walked up the Champs-Élysées and did a dash around the Louvre. But generally, I wandered the streets in a bit of giddy daze. I promised myself that one day I would return, and take my time. I would stay in one of the nicer apartments (not a tent), I would have more money and be a more confident traveller.

When I returned home to Australia four months later, I started a travel wishlist. Whenever I watched a tv program, or read an article, or a book, I would note down places of interest that I wanted to see for myself.

One such note was for the Shakespeare and Company bookstore.

Describe by many as controlled chaos, a place for dreamers and poets, the Shakespeare and Company has a well-known history and an enviable list of famous patrons.

Jeanette Winterson writes in the LitHub,

There’s Hemingway, flexing his fists from the boxing ring, stopping by to pick up a book. James Joyce never arrives before noon and usually needs to borrow money. The big woman with the white poodle is Gertrude Stein. By the stove, beautiful and tired, Djuna Barnes is talking about her novel Nightwood to T. S. Eliot.

Scott Fitzgerald likes to sit and read on the stoop in the sun, and Sylvia Beach has made up her mind to publish Ulysses, because no one else will.

Started by Sylvia Beach in 1919 and now run by George Whitman and his daughter, Sylvia, Shakespeare and Company has changed owners, address and been forced to close due to war and more recently Covid-19. It is now part of Parisian folklore and a must-see for many book-loving travellers.

I, for one, (if international travel ever resumes, and we can return to Europe without quarantining for two weeks), will make Shakespeare and Company my first port of call.

In the meantime, I will endeavour to read one of the many books written about this iconic bookshop.

• Shakespeare and Company, Paris: A History of the Rag & Bone Shop | Krista Halverson
• Shakespeare and Company | Sylvia Beach
• Sylvia Beach & The Lost Generation – The History Of Lit Paris In The 20′s & 30′s | Noel Riley Fitch
• Time Was Soft There | Jeremy Mercer
• Sylvia's Bookshop: The Story of Paris's Beloved Bookstore and Its Founder (As Told by the Bookstore Itself!) | Robert Burleigh & illustrated by Katy Wu 
• Down and Out in Paris | The Guardian | 7th March 2009 | Jeanette Winterson

Book Stop #1

Miss Brill | Katherine Mansfield #1920Club

Miss Brill is a short story by New Zealand author Katherine Mansfield. It was first published in Athenaeum on 26 November 1920 and later included in The Garden Party and Other Stories (1922). 

I knew I wouldn't have the time or reading energy to tackle a novel published in 1920 for this week's 1920's Club with Kaggsy and Simon; so I chose a short story (or two). Just a little dipping of the toes into the bohemian waters of 1920!

Until I read this story, I knew very little about Mansfield's rather short and tragic life. I had thought that I might find a story which referenced WWI and the Spanish Flu that swept around the world in 1919, little realising that Mansfield had enough health concerns of her own to go on with. In December 1917, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis at the age of 29. She was dead five years later.

For someone so young, she managed to leave behind a huge body of work, mostly in the form of short stories, book reviews and letters. She grew up in a 'socially prominent family' in Wellington. Her childhood included a few years finishing off her schooling in Europe. She returned to NZ and started writing seriously, but found the 'provincial life' not to her liking and in 1908 she moved permanently from NZ to London.

She enjoyed a bohemian lifestyle in London, having relationships with men and women, as well as meeting Virginia Woolf and D H Lawrence. There was a miscarriage, a couple of on again/off again marriages, eventually resulting in her mother cutting her out of her will.

Her beloved baby brother was killed in Ploegsteert Wood, Belgium, 6th October 1915 causing her to feel nostalgic about their childhood in NZ. Her reminiscences eventually lead into a prolific period of writing.

She died on the 9th January 1923 and was buried at Cimetiere d’Avon, Avon, France.

But let's get back to poor Miss Brill.

Her story may be short, but it packs a punch. Miss Brill is an ageing, unmarried woman who lives quietly on her own, her only pleasure is walking around the Jardins Publiques to people watch. The story opens with a sense of excitement and anticipation. The long winter is over; the new Season is begun. Miss Brill brings out her fox stole from storage for the occasion. She freshens it up, brushing it's fur, and rubbing the life back into it.

She heads out feeling smart and self-contained.

But, as you learn to expect from Mansfield, there is an underlying sadness or melancholy that swells up when you (or Miss Brill) least expect it.

By the end of this short story, Miss Brill is confronted to see how others perceive her. She goes from feeling like all the world's a stage with everyone a player, including herself, to realising that she is a figure of ridicule, on the outside of a brand new world dominated by youth.

Loneliness, isolation and illusion. Themes that have taken on a new meaning in our own brand new coronavirus world.

Thank you to Kaggsy and Simon for hosting the #1920Club.

My other Katherine Mansfield posts:

• Miss Brill (1920)
• The Wind Blows (1920)
• Psychology (1920)

Mirka & Georges: A Culinary Affair by Lesley Harding & Kendrah Morgan

Mirka & Georges: A Culinary Affair is a beautiful book and hard to define. Is it an art book? Is it a biography? Or is it a recipe book? I guess the subtitle that Harding & Morgan chose gives us a clue to their intentions - that food is the central idea around which the book hinges.

Food, not just because of it's ability to sustain and fill an empty stomach, but the social aspect of food, preparing, sharing, bringing family and friends around a table to eat together, to talk, laugh and philosophise!

Upon arrival in Melbourne in 1951, the Mora's couldn't find a proper cup of coffee or a restaurant that stayed open past 8.30pm. However, it didn't take them long to search out pockets of like-minded people and small European wholesalers as they gathered them into their new home and studio on Collins St.

Mirka's iconic artwork also features throughout the book. Lovely full page spreads of her work as well as collages wrapped around each of the recipes included in the book. I had planned on cooking a couple of the recipes for Paris in July - Blanquette de Veau or Truite Aux Amandes appealed in particular as being good winter dishes, but a hectic work schedule and a nasty head cold has got in the way of my good intentions this year.

However, Mirka and Georges is not just about the art and the food. Harding and Morgan have written an engaging, personal account of both Mirka and Georges' childhoods in France, their subsequent meeting and marriage after WWII and eventual emigration to Australia.

The early pages of the book are littered with childhood photos as the threat of WWII loomed. Mirka's family were arrested and detained in the 1942 Velodrome d'Hiver round up, but managed to escape transportation thanks to a letter claiming they were 'indispensable to the war effort.' Friends then procured false papers and a safe house for them.

Georges was a German of Polish descent born in Leipzig. His parents were wealthy modern art collectors, however after witnessing the book burning in Berlin in 1933, his parents encouraged him to leave for Paris. During the war he was interned briefly as an 'enemy alien' before joining a Jewish unit in the French Foreign Legion posted to North Africa. Later he joined the Jewish humanitarian group Euvre de Secours aux Enfants that helped Jewish orphans whose parents had disappeared throughout the war.

They were a passionate, creative and gregarious couple. Their wartime experiences made them embrace the opportunities of peacetime with open arms. Living life deeply, passionately, artistically. Seeking freedom and fun and doing it all with a great deal of European flair and finesse.

They soon found their niche in Melbourne as friendships with Sunday and John Reed, Charles Blackman, Joy Hester and Arthur Boyd blossomed.

We follow the Mora's various ventures into cafes, restaurants and exhibitions as their young family grows up. The book follows them all the way to the break up of Mirka and Georges around 1970.

I knew very little about the Mora's lives before this book but what I found between the pages of this lovely book, has only intrigued me more. I only wish I'd ever had the chance to eat in one of their restaurants!

Book 16 of 20 Books of Summer Winter
Sydney 15℃
Dublin 18℃

Maigret's Anger #61 by Georges Simenon

Maigret's Anger is my fifth Maigret. It was probably the lightest, easiest one of the lot so far, but it was also very atmospheric. Paris in summer hummed and sweated along in the background as Maigret worked a case around his old beat, in Montmartre.

It was almost as hot that evening as it had been during the day. Maigret went for a walk with his wife and sat outside a cafe in Place de la Republique, nursing a glass of beer for almost an hour.

They talked mainly about their holidays. Many of the men passing by had their jackets over their arms; most of the women were wearing cotton print dresses.

The case was fairly simple to solve, but it got extremely personal when Maigret realised that his good name had been taken in vain by a blackmailing lawyer playing a very lucrative game with his clients. Maigret's anger is of the steely, self-contained kind. He brooks no arguments or discussion. The guilty flounder (and confess) before his quiet fury.

Fortunately Maigret has his favourite Sunday treat to look forward to - a visit to Morsang-sur-Seine with Madame Maigret and his favourite hotel: Vieux-Garcon.

Reading up on it, he had discovered that Balzac and Alexandre Dumas had once been regular visitors, and that later the Goncourt Brothers, Flaubert, Zola, Alphonse Daudet and others had attended literary lunches there.

They ended up spending a peaceful Sunday by the river...around ten o'clock, as they were finishing their breakfast under the trees, watching the sails manoeuvring on the water, Madame Maigret murmured: 'Aren't you going fishing?'

As a starting point for my #ParisinJuly 2019 campaign, it was ideal. To the point and a reminder of warmer, gentler times.

Favourite Quote: because it sums up Maigret perfectly.

He had the heavy, stubborn look he wore in the doldrums of an investigation, when he didn't know how to proceed and was half-heartedly trying every angle.

Facts:

• Translated by William Hobson (who I've just discovered also translated Max Gallo's Napoleon series into English.)

New Word:

• belote - a popular 32 card, trick-taking, card game invented in France around 1920.

Series:

• 1. The Strange Case of Peter the Lett, The Case of Peter the Lett, Maigret and the Enigmatic Lett (1931)
• 2. The Crime at Lock 14, Maigret Meets a Milord, Lock 14 (1931)
• 3. The Death of Monsieur Gallet, Maigret Stonewalled (1931)
• 4. The Crime of Inspector Maigret, Maigret and the Hundred Gibbets (1931)
• 5. A Battle of Nerves, Maigret's War of Nerves, A Man's Head (1931)
• 6. A Face for a Clue, Maigret and the Concarneau Murders, Maigret and the Yellow Dog, The Yellow Dog (1931)
• 7. The Crossroad Murders, Maigret at the Crossroads (1931)
• 8. A Crime in Holland, Maigret in Holland (1931)
• 9. The Sailor's Rendezvous (1931)
• 10. At the "Gai Moulin", Maigret at the "Gai Moulin" (1931)
• 11. Guinguette by the Seine, Maigret and the Tavern by the Seine, The Bar on the Seine (1931)
• 12. The Shadow in the Courtyard, Maigret Mystified (1932)
• 13. Maigret and the Countess, The Saint-Fiacre Affair, Maigret Goes Home, Maigret on Home Ground (1932)
• 14. The Flemish Shop, Maigret and the Flemish Shop (1932)
• 15. Death of a Harbo(u)r Master, Maigret and the Death of a Harbor Master (1932)
• 16. The Madman of Bergerac (1932)
• 17. Liberty Bar, Maigret on the Riviera (1932)
• 18. The Lock at Charenton (1933)
• 19. Maigret Returns (1934)
• 20. Maigret and the Hotel Majestic (1942)
• 21. Maigret in Exile (1942)
• 22. Maigret and the Spinster (1942)
• 23. To Any Lengths, Signe Picpus, Maigret and the Fortuneteller (1944)
• 24. Maigret and the Toy Village (1944)
• 25. Maigret's Rival, Inspector Cadaver (1944)
• 26. Maigret in Retirement (1947)
• 27. Maigret in New York, Inspector Maigret in New York's Underworld, Maigret in New York's Underworld (1947)
• 28. A Summer Holiday, No Vacation for Maigret, Maigret on Holiday (1948)
• 29. Maigret's Dead Man, Maigret's Special Murder (1948)
• 30. Maigret's First Case (1949)
• 31. My Friend Maigret, The Methods of Maigret (1949)
• 32. Maigret at the Coroner's (1949)
• 33. Maigret and the Old Lady (1950)
• 34. Madame Maigret's Own Case, Madame Maigret's Friend, The Friend of Madame Maigret (1950)
• 35. Maigret's Memoirs (1951)
• 36. Maigret and the Strangled Stripper, Maigret in Montmartre, Inspector Maigret and the Strangled Stripper (1951)
• 37. Maigret Takes a Room, Maigret Rents a Room (1951)
• 38. Inspector Maigret and the Burglar's Wife, Maigret and the Burglar's Wife (1951)
• 39. Inspector Maigret and the Killers, Maigret and the Gangsters (1952)
• 40. Maigret's Revolver (1952)
• 41. Maigret and the Man on the Boulevard, Maigret and the Man on the Bench (1953)
• 42. Maigret Afraid (1953)
• 43. Maigret's Mistake (1953)
• 44. Maigret Goes to School (1954)
• 45. Inspector Maigret and the Dead Girl, Maigret and the Young Girl (1954)
• 46. Maigret and the Minister, Maigret and the Calame Report (1955)
• 47. Maigret and the Headless Corpse (1955)
• 48. Maigret Sets a Trap (1955)
• 49. Maigret's Failure (1956)
• 50. Maigret's Little Joke, None of Maigret's Business (1957)
• 51. Maigret and the Millionaires (1958)
• 52. Maigret Has Scruples (1958)
• 53. Maigret and the Reluctant Witnesses (1959)
• 54. Maigret Has Doubts (1959)
• 55. Maigret in Court (1960)
• 56. Maigret in Society (1960)
• 57. Maigret and the Lazy Burglar (1961)
• 58. Maigret and the Black Sheep (1962)
• 59. Maigret and the Saturday Caller (1962)
• 60. Maigret and the Dosser, Maigret and the Bum (1963)
• 61. Maigret Loses His Temper, Maigret's Anger (1963)
• 62. Maigret and the Ghost, Maigret and the Apparition (1964)
• 63. Maigret on the Defensive (1964)
• 64. The Patience of Maigret, Maigret Bides His Time (1965)
• 65. Maigret and the Nahour Case (1967)
• 66. Maigret's Pickpocket (1967)
• 67. Maigret Takes the Waters, Maigret in Vichy (1968)
• 68. Maigret Hesitates (1968)
• 69. Maigret's Boyhood Friend (1968)
• 70. Maigret and the Killer (1969)
• 71. Maigret and the Wine Merchant (1970)
• 72. Maigret and the Madwoman (1970)
• 73. Maigret and the Loner (1971)
• 74. Maigret and the Flea, Maigret and the Informer (1971)
• 75. Maigret and Monsieur Charles (1972)
• A Maigret Christmas

Book 11 of 20 Books of Summer Winter

Sydney 19℃

Dublin 20℃

Paris in July 2019

C'est reparti!
As we bunker down for a long cold winter in Australia (okay a moderately cool and relatively short winter compared to the rest of the world, but hey, it's all relative), the one thing that can brighten our short, grey days is to dream of warmer climes.

Tamara @Thyme for Tea has tapped into this desire we all have for something a little more exotic, a little more glamorous and a little more sophisticated than our regular daily lives. It's a desire not dependant on the season it is wherever you are right now, but a desire more universal to break out of the everyday routine into something far more séduisant.

Paris in July is a celebration of all things French - literature, movies, food, music, history, fashion, culture and language - with a particular focus on life in Paris.

What are my memories and plans for Paris in July 2019?

My real life memories are based on one all too brief visit to Paris in 1991. It was late July and hot, hot, hot. It was my very first visit to a foreign speaking country. I was a little overwhelmed. We arrived in the afternoon and went straight to our camping ground on the outskirts of Paris to set up before dark.

The plan was to then bus into the city to catch an evening cruise on the Seine, so that our (my) very first sight of Paris would be by night. Seeing Paris for the first time, all lit up, with twinkling fairy lights, coloured lights and neon signs was truly a magical experience, and I'm so grateful it was organised this way. I was only 23, but I knew I would never forget this moment.

The rest of Paris is a bit of a blur. I remember trekking up the spiral stairs in the bell tower of Notre Dame, feeling faint in the heat, but I don't remember the gargoyles at the top or the view.

I remember climbing all the stairs up the Eiffel Tower (I was only 23 after all!) and I do remember the view from the top of that monument. It was a smoky haze that blanketed the entire city (and most of Europe) thanks to the Gulf War oil fires in Kuwait.

I tasted escargot for the first (and probably last time) and I finally accepted that I just don't get all the fuss about pastries, bread and cakes. Although walking along the Left Bank watching everyone else eat them felt very Parisienne!

I went to the Louvre and stood in front of the Mona Lisa with hoards of others, but mostly remember being in awe of the Venus de Milo. I know I also went to the Musee d'Orsay, but sadly can't bring any of it to mind.

I remember sitting on the grass under a tree in a park along the Champs Elysee, feeling too hot and bothered to join the others in their trek across to the Arc de Triomphe. Looking at it from across the way was enough for me. I took off my sandals, wiggled my toes in the grass, guzzled lots of cold water, and enjoyed watching the people stroll by as I wrote in my journal.

I'm sure I ate well (or as well as a 23 yr old expects), but I can't remember anything but the snails. I'm sure I drank something other than cold water, but I can't remember that either.

Obviously, I'm overdue for a repeat visit!

I have several books on my #20BooksofSummerWinter list that I hope to get to. Including a couple of Maigret's, a few more stories from The Best Short Stories of Guy de Maupassant and a memoir by Herve le Tellier called All Happy Families.

Although not set in France, I also have Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie. Dai is a Chinese born French resident.

The wonderful, extraordinary lives of Mirka and Georges started in France before WWII, before emigrating to Australia. Their biography is littered with recipes for some of their most well-known French meals in their various Melbourne restaurants. I hope to make a few of them throughout July.

I'm also still reading The Count of Monte Cristo one chapter a day. July will see me reading from chapter 54 - 84. The Count has now arrived in Paris and I suspect he will remain there for most of July.

No doubt Midnight in Paris and Julie & Julia will get another viewing and that I will add to my Spotify playlist - Brona's Paris in July (which I've just realised was in secret mode, but is now in public mode if you'd like to follow and suggest more songs).

That should be enough for me to get on with!

What about you?

Que la fête commence!

The Belly of Paris by Émile Zola

Le Ventre de Paris (also known as The Belly of Paris - a direct translation, or The Fat and the Thin
referring to one of the main ideas explored in the story) is not only an extremely visual story, but a visceral one too.

Zola's descriptions of the food markets at Les Halles are colourful, very detailed and lengthy! He leaves no basket or barrow unturned. Every smell is documented including the decaying, the over-ripe and the composted.

The political and social injustices of the times are also symbolised in the Les Halles markets and reinforced by the various natures of the people who live and work there.

Many of Zola's standard themes are explored here - moral ambiguity, excess, waste, realism, gluttony, materialism, decadence, the haves and the have-nots. Consumerism, in particular, is placed under the Zola microscope in The Belly of Paris, as is the whole idea of spying, voyeurism, surveillance and gossip. Everyone watches everyone else and everyone discusses it with anyone who will listen.

One of the curiosities, for me, in this story and the previous Zola, La Curée is the whole push & pull against the renovation of Paris by Haussmann. On the one hand there is a real sense of loss and nostalgia for 'Old Paris', yet there's also an appreciation of the improved sanitation and open spaces that the clean up achieved. Zola writes about the tension between the corruption and the dynamism inherent in this process in all of his books.

It makes me think of the current concerns many Sydney-siders feel for the major road work and light rail projects happening around the city right now. I hear lots of people bemoaning the changing face of Sydney and the loss of old Sydney and that things will never be the same again. That it will make things worse not better. As a devotee of museums and history, I know that these exact same sentiments were expressed in the 1920's when large areas of The Rocks and North Sydney were pulled down to build the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

No-one in Sydney, or visiting Sydney, could now imagine it without our beautiful, graceful bridge spanning the harbour. It is instagrammed and hashtagged on an hourly basis all around the world. Just like we now love and appreciate the beautiful, graceful boulevards and open spaces created by Haussmann in Paris. Neither city misses the slums or narrow, crowded streets that were razed to create these beautiful new spaces.

At the time, the fear of change and sentimentality stopped many of the locals from seeing the possible beauty or improved functionality that would result from the change. They could not imagine that future generations would be grateful for the sacrifice and upheaval required to update, move forward and 'future-proof' their city.

I'm not suggesting that our current west connex, north connex & light rail projects will ever be considered beautiful, charming and elegant by future generations, that might be stretching the friendship too far, but they will add (in part) a functionality to our city that is currently lacking. Sadly our particular project is not being managed by a larger-than-life character like Haussmann. His bold vision is sadly lacking in Sydney. But then a large factor in his work was to make it easier for governments to police the city and stop the barricades - a practical, controversial consideration that upset many at the time. Yet the Champs Elysee was born. And who could now imagine Paris without the Champs Elysee?

Une Boutique de Charcuterie (1873) by Edouard Jean Dambourgez

To get back to Zola's main theme in The Belly of Paris, though, let's start with Claude Lantier (the artist based on Paul Cezanne) during his 'Battle of the Fat and the Thin' discussion,

In these pictures Claude saw the entire drama of human life; and he ended by dividing everyone into Fat and Thin, two hostile groups, one of which devours the other and grows fat and sleek and endlessly enjoys itself.

'Cain', he said, 'was a Fat man and Abel a Thin one. Ever since that first murder, the big eaters have sucked the lifeblood out of the small eaters. The strong constantly prey on the weak....Beware of the Fat, my friend!'

Gavard is Fat, but the sort that pretends to be Thin....Mademoiselle Saget and Madame Lecœur are Thin, but the kind to beware of - Thin people desperate to be Fat. My friend Marjolin, little Cadine, La Sarriette, they're all Fat. They don't know it yet, because they're so young and innocent. It must be said that the Fat , before they get older, are charming creatures.

Zola not only sees the modern trend in a division between the haves and have nots, the takers and the givers, but relates it back to the very beginning of human story. Since the beginning of time, we have been creating stories to bring to light our differences; what does it say about us, I wonder, that we are still telling the same stories thousands of years later?

Are we slow learners? Do we never learn from the lessons of history? Does every generation have to re-invent the wheel? Or are we just eternally interested in ourselves and our stories?

References to Les Halles are everywhere throughout the story and read like paintings. Fortunately many, many artists have painted these scenes, including the one chosen for the cover of the Oxford University Press edition by Victor-Gabriel Gilbert, The Square in Front of Les Halles 1880.

Brian Nelson in his Introduction explains that Zola 'combines the vision of a painter with the approach of a sociologist and reporter.' Below are a few of my favourite examples.

Les Halles 1895 by Léon Lhermitte

The opening to the Rue Rambteau was blocked by a barricade of orange pumpkins in two rows, sprawling at their ease and swelling out their bellies. Here and there gleamed the varnished golden-brown of a basket of onions, the blood-red of a heap of tomatoes, the soft yellow of a display of cucumbers, and the deep mauve of aubergines.

Les Halles

That church is a piece of bastard architecture, made up of the death agony of the Middle Ages and the birth pains of the Renaissance....There it is with its rose windows, and without a congregation, while Les Halles keep growing next to it.

Les Halles 1879 by Jean Beraud

A huge arcade, a gaping doorway, would open to his gaze; and the markets seemed to crowd up one on top of the other, with their two lines of roof, their countless shutters and blinds...a vast Babylonian structure of metal wonderfully delicate in its workmanship, and criss-crossed by hanging gardens, aerial galleries, and flying buttresses.

Les Halles and St Eustache by Eugene Galien-Laloue

The giant markets, overflowing with food, had brought things to a head. They seemed like some satiated beast, embodying Paris itself, grown enormously fat, and silently supporting the Empire.

Still Life with Cheese 1870's by Antoine Vollon.

The warm afternoon sun had softened the cheeses; the mould on the rinds was melting and glazing over with the rich colours of red copper verdigris, like wounds that have badly healed; under the oak leaves, a breeze lifted the skins of the olivets, which seemed to move up and down with the slow deep breathing of a man asleep.

Favourite Character: Maybe not my favourite character, but certainly, for me, the most memorable was La Belle Lisa 'she was a steady, sensible Macquart, reasonable and logical in her craving for well-being.' Quietly ambitious, determined, hard-working, voluptuous. Lisa embodies the bourgeoisie sensibility of looking out for oneself and turning a blind eye to the larger problems within society as being none of her business and beyond her control to do anything about anyway.

Favourite or Forget: As I slowly read Zola's books in chronological order for Fanda's #Zoladdiction each year, they all become forever burnt onto my memory. The abundance of food descriptions and Zola's play with homographs (trifle, ripening, fruit, sweetly etc) made this one a fun read. I think this particular OWC cover is my favourite of all the Zola covers.

Facts: Le Ventre de Paris was serialised in the daily newspaper L'État from 12 January to 17 March 1873. It's the third book in Zola's Rougon-Macquart series.

A Maigret Christmas by Georges Simenon

A Maigret Christmas contains three very different stories by Georges Simenon - A Maigret Christmas, Seven Small Crosses in a Notebook and The Restaurant near Place des Ternes - yet they all share a similar sense of melancholy and loneliness.

In Simenon's world, Christmas is not a time for goodwill and cheer, so seasonally well-adjusted readers beware! Instead, in these three stories, we visit long, cold night shifts, suicides and lonely prostitutes. The title story (first published in 1950) is the only one that features Maigret though. The other two are set in his world, his time and his place and provide an interesting backstory or subtext to his other stories.

The descriptions of Christmas Eve in all three were evocative of the season, but the paragraph that has stuck with me is the image of the two Maigret's carefully avoiding a certain topic all day,

He didn't feel depressed exactly. It was just that his dream - which he still could not remember - had left him with raw nerves. And anyway maybe it wasn't the dream but Christmas itself. He was going to have to tread carefully all day, weigh his words, just as Madame Maigret had calibrated her movements as she got out of bed, for she too would be a little more prickly than usual...But enough of that! Don't even think about it! Don't say a word that might bring up that subject. And later on, don't look out on to the street too often when the kids came out of doors and started showing off their toys.

If you love Maigret and his ever patient wife, then this little titbit about their personal circumstances will break your heart. That this particular case involves a young girl, who by the end, will be in need of care and guardianship for a while, is a bittersweet outcome, that sees Maigret saying to Madame Maigret,

"Not ours to keep, no. Just on loan. I thought it would be better than nothing and that you'd be happy."

Seven Small Crosses was first published in 1951 and first translated into English in 1976. It features Lecoeur, one of the night shift 'owls' manning the police control room, taking emergency calls and patching through information to all the stations around Paris.

Lecoeur is hard-working, dedicated and very meticulous. These days he may even be diagnosed with high-functioning autism. A late-night strange set of incidents begins to take on a sinister and very personal meaning when he realises that his young nephew may have witnessed a murder and is on the run. Normally police procedural stories leave me cold, but the personal elements in this one, that were revealed gradually, created a great deal of tension and suspense.

The final, very short story (also referred to as A Christmas Story For Grown-Ups) begins with a suicide and ends with a drunken brawl between a prostitute and a young women attempting to get on the game. The older cynical prostitute guesses what is happening when she witnesses two men slowing getting the young ingenue drunker and drunker in a bar. She intervenes, even though she's not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because they come from the same small village outside Paris? Or perhaps it's because everyone should 'want to be Father Christmas' just once in their life.

'Just imagine if, once in their lives, everybody behaved like Father Christmas...Just imagine it, right?...Just once...And when you think of how many people there are on this earth...'

Yes, just imagine.

Signe Picpus by Georges Simenon

Also known as Signed Picpus or Maigret and the Fortune Teller, Signe Picpus was one of the three Maigret books that Simenon published in 1944. My 2015 edition was translated by David Coward.

According to wikipedia, Simenon actually wrote Signe Picpus in 1941. It was serialised into 34 instalments between 11th of December 1941 and the 21st of January 1942. In 1943 he decided to auction off the manuscript to benefit prisoners of war.

This particular Maigret is almost stream of consciousness in style with lots of odd little jumps and starts between Maigret's thoughts, actions and speech. As with most of the Maigret's, you can often work out what happened or who did it fairly easily. The joy of the reading experience is watching Maigret work it through in his own inimitable way. There is an engaging sense of charm and self-importance that oozes not only from Maigret, but from the writer as well.

But curiously, no reference to the war is made at all in Signed, Picpus. In fact, I spent most of the book thinking the setting was 1960's Paris, not pre-war or wartime Paris. The only reference I found during the whole book that may have reflected troubled times was,

If everyone contributes expenses, as is only natural in times as difficult as these...

There were several nostalgic, almost romantic descriptions of Paris in the summer, a sign perhaps of living through difficult times and remembering those pre-war years fondly...?

There are days which, though you don't know why, sum up a season, a phase of your life, a whole gamut of sensations. That Saturday night at Morsang and the Sunday that followed were for Maigret the quintessence of summers spent by the river, the ease of life and the simple, sweet pleasures.

The lanterns under the trees which did not have to be lit until the end of dinner; the leaves which turned a sumptuous dark green, the green of old tapestries; the whitish mist which rose off the moving surface of the Seine; the sound of laughter from the small restaurant tables and the dreamy voices of loving couples...

The Maigrets were in bed when someone had brought a gramophone out on to the hotel terrace, and for some considerable time they had heard the sounds of soft, easy music and the crunch of gravel under the feet of dancers.

But no war.

Simenon was born in Belgium and lived in France from 1922 - 1945. The New Yorker, Crime Pays Oct 10, 2011 by Joan Acocella suggested that his war time record may have be a little murky, which may be why he avoided a war time setting for Maigret? (My supposition, not Acocella's.)

In 1940, after the Second World War got under way, Simenon moved his family to a village in the Vendée, in west-central France. Because of travel restrictions, he got stuck there. In the morning he wrote; in the afternoon he played cards with the locals in a café. His war record was mixed. He ran a refugee center, very energetically, people say. On the other hand, four of the nine movies made of his books during the Occupation were produced by what he knew was a Nazi-run company. For that organization, he also signed a statement that he was an Aryan. Pierre Assouline says that Simenon was neither a collaborator nor a resister but just an opportunist.

I'm curious now to see if any of the other war time Maigret's are actually set in the war, or if they all have this 'anytime' feel. His ability to create a sense of place is remarkable, Paris simply jumps out of the pages of every Maigret, but it's a Paris of an unknown time. Which ultimately made Signed, Picpus a disappointing choice for The 1944 Club, but a thoroughly enjoyable rainy day read nonetheless.

• 1. The Strange Case of Peter the Lett, The Case of Peter the Lett, Maigret and the Enigmatic Lett (1931)
• 2. The Crime at Lock 14, Maigret Meets a Milord, Lock 14 (1931)
• 3. The Death of Monsieur Gallet, Maigret Stonewalled (1931)
• 4. The Crime of Inspector Maigret, Maigret and the Hundred Gibbets (1931)
• 5. A Battle of Nerves, Maigret's War of Nerves, A Man's Head (1931)
• 6. A Face for a Clue, Maigret and the Concarneau Murders, Maigret and the Yellow Dog, The Yellow Dog (1931)
• 7. The Crossroad Murders, Maigret at the Crossroads (1931)
• 8. A Crime in Holland, Maigret in Holland (1931)
• 9. The Sailor's Rendezvous (1931)
• 10. At the "Gai Moulin", Maigret at the "Gai Moulin" (1931)
• 11. Guinguette by the Seine, Maigret and the Tavern by the Seine, The Bar on the Seine (1931)
• 12. The Shadow in the Courtyard, Maigret Mystified (1932)
• 13. Maigret and the Countess, The Saint-Fiacre Affair, Maigret Goes Home, Maigret on Home Ground (1932)
• 14. The Flemish Shop, Maigret and the Flemish Shop (1932)
• 15. Death of a Harbo(u)r Master, Maigret and the Death of a Harbor Master (1932)
• 16. The Madman of Bergerac (1932)
• 17. Liberty Bar, Maigret on the Riviera (1932)
• 18. The Lock at Charenton (1933)
• 19. Maigret Returns (1934)
• 20. Maigret and the Hotel Majestic (1942)
• 21. Maigret in Exile (1942)
• 22. Maigret and the Spinster (1942)
• 23. Signed Picpus, Maigret and the Fortuneteller (1944)
• 24. Maigret and the Toy Village (1944)
• 25. Maigret's Rival, Inspector Cadaver (1944)
• 26. Maigret in Retirement (1947)
• 27. Maigret in New York, Inspector Maigret in New York's Underworld, Maigret in New York's Underworld (1947)
• 28. A Summer Holiday, No Vacation for Maigret, Maigret on Holiday (1948)
• 29. Maigret's Dead Man, Maigret's Special Murder (1948)
• 30. Maigret's First Case (1949)
• 31. My Friend Maigret, The Methods of Maigret (1949)
• 32. Maigret at the Coroner's (1949)
• 33. Maigret and the Old Lady (1950)
• 34. Madame Maigret's Own Case, Madame Maigret's Friend, The Friend of Madame Maigret (1950)
• 35. Maigret's Memoirs (1951)
• 36. Maigret and the Strangled Stripper, Maigret in Montmartre, Inspector Maigret and the Strangled Stripper (1951)
• 37. Maigret Takes a Room, Maigret Rents a Room (1951)
• 38. Inspector Maigret and the Burglar's Wife, Maigret and the Burglar's Wife (1951)
• 39. Inspector Maigret and the Killers, Maigret and the Gangsters (1952)
• 40. Maigret's Revolver (1952)
• 41. Maigret and the Man on the Boulevard, Maigret and the Man on the Bench (1953)
• 42. Maigret Afraid (1953)
• 43. Maigret's Mistake (1953)
• 44. Maigret Goes to School (1954)
• 45. Inspector Maigret and the Dead Girl, Maigret and the Young Girl (1954)
• 46. Maigret and the Minister, Maigret and the Calame Report (1955)
• 47. Maigret and the Headless Corpse (1955)
• 48. Maigret Sets a Trap (1955)
• 49. Maigret's Failure (1956)
• 50. Maigret's Little Joke, None of Maigret's Business (1957)
• 51. Maigret and the Millionaires (1958)
• 52. Maigret Has Scruples (1958)
• 53. Maigret and the Reluctant Witnesses (1959)
• 54. Maigret Has Doubts (1959)
• 55. Maigret in Court (1960)
• 56. Maigret in Society (1960)
• 57. Maigret and the Lazy Burglar (1961)
• 58. Maigret and the Black Sheep (1962)
• 59. Maigret and the Saturday Caller (1962)
• 60. Maigret and the Dosser, Maigret and the Bum (1963)
• 61. Maigret Loses His Temper (1963)
• 62. Maigret and the Ghost, Maigret and the Apparition (1964)
• 63. Maigret on the Defensive (1964)
• 64. The Patience of Maigret, Maigret Bides His Time (1965)
• 65. Maigret and the Nahour Case (1967)
• 66. Maigret's Pickpocket (1967)
• 67. Maigret Takes the Waters, Maigret in Vichy (1968)
• 68. Maigret Hesitates (1968)
• 69. Maigret's Boyhood Friend (1968)
• 70. Maigret and the Killer (1969)
• 71. Maigret and the Wine Merchant (1970)
• 72. Maigret and the Madwoman (1970)
• 73. Maigret and the Loner (1971)
• 74. Maigret and the Flea, Maigret and the Informer (1971)
• 75. Maigret and Monsieur Charles (1972)

The Lady and the Unicorn by Tracy Chevalier

I wanted to read The Lady and the Unicorn thanks to the exhibition currently on at the Art Gallery of NSW. As a long-time cross-stitcher, the tapestries fascinate me. I've been to see them twice so far, & hope to see them one more time before the exhibition ends later this month.

This is only the third time that the tapestries have left France in 500 years. Designed around 1500 in Paris, they are an extraordinary example of medieval art. Very little is known about their exact provenance which has created much speculation. Chevalier has used 'sensible suppositions' to weave her fiction.

Initially I was dismayed by what I felt was lacklustre writing. By the end of the first chapter, I wasn't sure I would be able to continue.

I may have been too critical as I was coming off the back of the incredible Sugar Money by Jane Harris written in the patios of 1765 Martinique and Megan Hunter's poetic cli-fi story, The End We Start From where the poetry existed in every word as well as in the gaps between. After two such innovative, exciting narratives, perhaps any regular story would have been a bit dull.

I'm glad I persisted as Chevalier's suppositions were enlightening and entertaining. She obviously researches her subjects thoroughly, then weaves this knowledge through her story with a deft touch. 

With a tapestry you stand close as you would to a friend. You see only part of it, and not necessarily the most important part. So no thing should stand out more than the rest, but fit together into a pattern that your eye takes pleasure in no matter where it rests.

Chevalier took the time to show us (via the faces of the women and the stories behind them) that not only can an artists intent and interpretation change with time but that different people view different things in the work, depending on their mood and experience. All theses ideas are valid as well as being the very thing that makes all art such a personal and rewarding experience.

I learnt a lot about the life and times of medieval France, the art of weaving and the lot of women in a strict patriarchal society.

Unlike many of the books I've read recently, Chevalier wrote a good old-fashioned ending complete with epilogue and a what-they-did-next wrap-up. Very satisfying.

2/20 #20booksofsummer (winter)

19℃ in Sydney

22℃ in Northern Ireland

La Curée (The Kill) By Emile Zola

La Curée is the second book in Emile Zola's Rougon-Macquart series of books set during the Second Empire in France. I read it this month in honour of Fanda's #Zoladdiction2018. I have many, many thoughts about this story - I'll start off in point form -

• The translation of the title
• Haussmann
• the parks and avenues
• the art - the images - the pictures
• the excess
• Phaedra
• Narcissus
• mythology and myth making
• consumption & speculation
• property bubble, creative accounting, deception, greed, avarice, materialism
• construction - destruction
• the cyclic nature of time/history
• gender
• the ailing Napoleon III
• morality, desire, sexuality
• Dynasty meets the Kardashian's
• book worlds collide

The Quarry (La Curée ) 1856 Gustave Courbet - Museum of Fine Arts Boston

So, the title of the book in English. It has been called The Kill or The Game is Over in most of the book or movie versions that I've found so far. The painting above also gave another twist to the translation which is rather apt as well and fits in with the #Zolastyle theme that Fanda was running this year.

Haussmann was a fascinating character; Paris basically looks the way it does today because of what he did. He opened up avenues and boulevards to create light and space. Beautiful spaces, trees, parks and new buildings were designed to being communities together...at the expense of ripping apart old neighbourhoods. The addition of sewers, fountains and aquaducts made huge improvements for all Parisians but at the time the demolition and construction works were controversial and traumatic.

Avenue de l'Opéra, Camille Pissarro (1898).

There is no doubt that Zola was a master of imagery.
I've already written a post about his descriptions of the Bois de Boulogne, but he also included many magnificent details about the clothing, architecture and the interiors of homes. The excessive materialism and decadent lifestyle has to be read to be believed.

Phaedra: though married to Theseus, Phaedra fell in love with Hippolytus, Theseus's son by another woman (i.e. her stepson). But Hippolytus rejected her. In revenge, she told Theseus that Hippolytus had raped her. What happens next to Hippolytus depends on which version of the myth you read, but the end result is that he died. Themes of rejection, denial, shame, guilt, despair and jealousy - the perfect play for Renee and Maxime to see, although Zola played around with the ending.

Phaedra 1880 Alexandre Cabanel

The Narcissus and Echo tableau vivant (living picture) that occurs in chapter 6 seems utterly bizarre to the modern reader (i.e. me!) What a curious way to host a dinner party. To dress up and pose scenes from well-known myths, stories and legends. The 19th century version of the selfie, I guess.

The excessive consumption and speculation boom that Paris experienced during this era reminded me a lot of what is happening right now in many Western countries. The crazy stupid property bubble that exists in Sydney and Melbourne at the moment is just as ridiculous and just as prone to shady deals and greed and corruption as the one in Zola's Paris.

The women come off badly in this story, especially Renee. Maxime gets to live a guilt-free existence whilst Renee is riddled with doubt and self-reproach. Her behaviour is frowned upon whilst Maxime gets a socially acceptable 'high five' from his dad. Although I like to think that Renee had a moment at the end when she realised how shallow, false and destructive her life style had become. Sadly this reflection didn't lead to any form of happiness, fulfilment or satisfaction for her. C'est la vie.

I hadn't realised how old and doddery Napolean III was by the end of his Empire. Zola neatly shows the Empire decaying and rotting right along with his ageing body.

I was surprised by how much sex there was in this novel. Having read numerous bio's and novels about the Royal families in France over the years, I knew that mistresses and sexual deviation was fairly par for the course at that level of society. It was fascinating to see the post-revolution nouveau riche picking up where the old courtiers left off.

La Curée had all the glitz, big hair and large shoulder pads of Dynasty (are you old enough to remember the 80's TV show)? Combine the Ewing's obscene wealth with the self-conscious, over the top spectacle that the Kardashian clan make of themselves and you'll get some idea of the fake, shallow world inhabited by Zola's characters.

I love it when book worlds collide: as many of you know, I'm doing a chapter a day LesMis readalong. Yesterday's chapter was Vol 2 Book 5 Ch 1 - Twists and Turns. Every now and again, Hugo inserts himself into the story. His most famous one is the 19 chapter diversion back in time to the Battle of Waterloo, but here he has done it again,

For some years past the author of this book, who regrets the necessity to speak of himself, has been absent from Paris. During this time the city has been transformed....But in the process of demolition and reconstruction, the Paris of his youth, of which he cherishes the memory, has become a Paris of the past. He must be allowed to talk of that Paris as though it still existed....

Those places we no longer see, perhaps will never see again but still remember, have acquired an aching charm; they return to us with the melancholy of ghosts, a hallowed vision and as it were the true face of France. We love and evoke them such as they were; and such as to us they still are, we cling to them and will not have been altered, for the face of our country is our mother's face.

Hugo was obviously feeling very nostalgic and sentimental about his home country from his exile on the island of Guernsey. Just like Zola his political views had forced him to leave his birth country (Hugo for 14 years; Zola less than 12 months) and just like Zola he juggled a wife and mistress for much of his adult life.

I love it when one book leads into and informs the next. Without La Curée I would not have known about the Haussmannisation of Paris and would not have know what Hugo was referring to in this section. Timing is everything or as the more romantic Hugo would say, 'some invisible presence was guiding' us!

#Zoladdiction2018
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