Reprinted from Green Man Review.
These charming French murder mysteries, translated into English by Isabel Reid and Lorenza Garcia, were listed in a St. Martin’s catalog we received in the post. I recall nodding an enthusiastic “yes!” when our esteemed publisher asked me if I had an interest in reading and reviewing them. If nothing else, they provided me with a much-needed antidote to the darker mysteries I have been reading for the last few months. Since spring is coming, that mood change worked nicely.
As the dust jackets for both of these books explain, Claude Izner is a pseudonym for a pair of co-authors, sisters Liliane Korb and Laurence Lefevre. They live and work in Paris as purveyors of second-hand books. Thus it should come as no surprise that the principal characters in these novels are purveyors of second-hand books. Since I have known several of the second-hand book dealers in Portland, Maine, for many years, this culture is quite familiar to me.
The series is named for Victor Legris, the younger of the two owners of Elzevir, a second-hand (as well as new) bookshop located at 18 Rue des Saints-Peres. Victor is just thirty when the series opens. His business partner is Kenji Mori, a fifty-something Japanese gentleman whom Victor regards as his mentor — Kenji has looked after Victor since the younger man’s mother died when he was still a child. Both men have apartments upstairs from the shops — a practice still common in Paris at this time. Neither man is married, although Victor has a mistress and later a more significant love interest, and Kenji travels to England to visit someone named Iris who may or may not be a lover.
Neither of these characters seems to spend very much time actually working in the shop; they leave that responsibility to a younger man, Joseph Pignot, who lives nearby with his mother, a costermonger (fruit and vegetable vendor). At least occasionally, Kenji actually goes out to buy books for the shop. Victor, well, Victor seems to spend most of his time running around attempting in a somewhat bumbling way to investigate mysteries.
Both novels are set in late nineteenth century Paris, the first one in May 1889, the second in February 1890. The co-authors make excellent use of cultural, geographic and historical landmarks to establish the verisimilitude of their narratives. For example, in The Disappearance at Pere-Lachaise, the bookstore is selling copies of Emile Zola’s novel The Beast in Man (my copy is titled La Bete Humaine), in spite of the fact that it features six violent deaths, according to one of the customers. That novel was initially published in 1890. During his madcap perambulations around Paris in Murder on the Eiffel Tower, Victor looks for clues in several hotels with the name Grand in them, all located on the various streets and boulevards of post-Haussmann Paris. Also in this novel, the characters attend the opening of the Eiffel Tower and the adjacent World’s Fair, which featured a Colonial Exhibition resembling a modern theme park in its superficiality.
As the title suggests, Murder on the Eiffel Tower concerns a series of deaths that take place at or near that famous landmark. Actually, the deaths at first appear to be due to bee stings, so it takes a while before anyone realizes that they are caused by a malicious human agent. This novel introduces the main characters, including Tasha Kherson, an artist who works for Le Passe-partout, a newspaper that very successfully uses stories about the deaths as a marketing device. Although for a time Victor suspects that Tasha is involved with the deaths, he also finds her very attractive. When he follows her around town, it’s difficult to say which reason provides the strongest motivation.
The Disappearance at Pere-Lachaise is a lot more focused than the earlier offering. Victor’s longtime mistress, Odette de Valois, disappears from the cemetery where she is visiting the tomb of her recently-interred husband. Her maid, Denise, turns to Victor for help. Although he has ended his affair with Odette in favor of the much more appealing Tasha, he is sufficiently concerned and curious to start making inquiries. He soon discovers that a painting called The Madonna in Blue, shipped to Odette by her husband while he was still in Colombia, is the object of someone’s frantic and murderous search.
Both novels are written in third person. I experienced the style as light, humorous to the point of being farcical — particularly with regard to the way Victor dashes off, leaving Joseph to mind the store. Although Victor is the primary character, the viewpoint does not always stay with him. At times, the viewpoint may be that of a victim or someone else involved with the unfolding story. In neither of these novels is Victor actively or intentionally engaged in solving a crime. Although there are occasional references to the police, no police officers play any significant or ongoing role in these two novels, at least.
Although these are the only two titles in the series to have been translated into English thus far, a scan of the database for Amazon in France reveals that seven other installments are in print. If you read French, they are readily available. I suspect that the folks at St. Martin’s Minotaur will decide how many more to translate into English based on sales of the first two.
(Minotaur, 2008)
(Minotaur, 2009)
Comments