Born in Tebessa located in ,what was then, the French colony of Algeria. Robert Merle and his family moved to France in 1918. Merle wrote in many styles and won the Prix Goncourt for his novel Week-end 脿 Zuydcoote. He has also written a 13 book series of historical novels, Fortune de France. Recreating 16th and 17th century France through the eyes of a fictitious Protestant doctor turned spy, he went so far as to write it in the period's French making it virtually untranslatable.
His novels Un animal dou茅 de la raison (A Sentient Animal, 1967), a stark Cold War satire inspired by John Lilly's studies of dolphins and the Caribbean Crisis, and Malevil (1972), a post-apocalyptic story, were both translated into English and filmed, the former as Day of the Dolphin. The film The Day of the Dolphin bore very little resemblance to Merle's story.
He died of a heart attack at his home La Malmaison in Grosrouvre near Paris.
It's a risky thing, to re-read a book that you read and liked when you were a teenager. On the plus side, you may understand new meaning, that your younger self was too inexperienced to get; on the flip side, your older and less naive self may be horrified at what pretentious rubbish you used to like.
I took the risk, partly because I wanted to right an old wrong: I'd read Madrapour in German translation back then, and wanted to re-read it in original French. The story is about 15 passengers and a stewardess who board a mysterious flight to a no less mysterious destination, Madrapour. The main protagonist is Vladimir Sergius, a British linguist and polyglot of Ukrainian descent. The passenger list on this charter flight is quite international and exquisit: We have businessmen, state officials and high-class tourists from France, Britain, Germany, Italy, the US, Greece, and India.
The beauty of the book is that it has a strong chamber play flavour: The 16 characters are seated in First Class in a circle on the plane and have to cope with each other and the increasingly surreal and absurd circumstances of their flight, with practically no way to get some privacy (there's the galley and the Economy Class, leading to the rest rooms). So it's all psychology and high-concentration drama, my favourite.
Because of the international nature of the flight, it's rewarding to read the book in original version, and I'm glad I did. Merle let's some of the characters use their native tongue every once in a while, mostly German, English and of course French, and the whole German/French affair just gets lost when you translate the whole thing (in retrospect, I wonder how the translators handled the tricky parts at all; I cannot remember that bit).
But even beyond the language delights, the book lived up to my memory: It has memorable characters and exchanges and is well-paced. There is a slight slump in tension somewhere in the last third, where the story and the characters don't progress much; but it quickly recovers and builds to its inevitable climax. The only serious reproach I have is that the passengers don't explore the mystery thoroughly enough, a lot of pragmatic questions and possible answers remain unsaid; Merle gives its story a spiritual and mystic spin instead. Overall, good job!
Egysz贸val, j贸l seggber煤gn谩m a szerz艖t, ha most itt 谩llna el艖ttem. Komolyan. Honnan mer铆tette Merle a b谩tors谩got, hogy 铆gy fejezzen be egy k枚nyvet. Vagy kiss茅 pontos铆tva: hogy NE fejezzen be egy ilyen k枚nyvet? Nem mondan谩m, hogy 茅rintetlen眉l hagynak a sok 茅rtelmez茅si dimenzi贸val b铆r贸 t枚rt茅netek, hogy ne leln茅k 枚r枚met egy 铆r谩sban, mely messze t煤lmutat 枚nmag谩n - nem, nem err艖l van sz贸. Merle olyan magasba l枚ki a dr谩mai fesz眉lts茅get, mely - b谩r a cselekm茅ny vitathatatlanul eszk枚z csup谩n, nem maga az 眉zenet - nem maradhatott volna old谩s vagy katarzis n茅lk眉l.
Sajn谩lattal 铆rom ezt, mert a Madrapur egy茅bir谩nt egy zseni谩lis m疟. A ki tudja hov谩 茅s mi c茅lb贸l tart贸 rep眉l艖g茅pen (rep眉l艖g茅pen?) egym谩sra utalva, szoros 枚sszez谩rts谩gban az emberi hitv谩nys谩g h煤s-v茅r szobrai v铆vj谩k 谩d谩z harcukat percr艖l percre, 贸r谩r贸l 贸r谩ra. Ki r煤t, ki sznob, ki szexu谩lisan elt茅velyedett, ki moh贸 茅s csal贸, ki rasszista, ki Jezabel, 茅s 铆gy tov谩bb. A teljes bizonytalans谩g, a j枚v艖 fokozatos elveszt茅s茅nek 茅rzete el艖bb vagy ut贸bb mindenkit megfoszt felvett homlokzat谩t贸l, a k眉lvil谩gnak sz谩nt szerepreperto谩rj谩t贸l. Marad a l茅nyeg, ami kev茅sb茅 csillog, f茅ny茅t veszti, nyers 茅s durva. Kinek 茅ppen milyen. A hely 茅s az id艖 sz谩nd茅kos behat谩rolts谩ga ellen茅re a tal谩l贸 jellem谩br谩zol谩sokra 茅p眉l艖 t枚rt茅net minden, csak nem unalmas. Vonzza a szemet, lapr贸l lapra stimul谩lja az agyat, ujjadat hozz谩ragasztja a lapsz茅lhez. A t枚rt茅net pedig szinte k枚ny枚r枚g a sz铆nre vitel茅rt. T枚k茅letes darab k茅sz眉lhetne bel艖le.
Aki nem olvasott m茅g Merle k枚nyvet, tal谩n ne a Madrapurral kezdje. De id艖vel mindenk茅ppen ker铆tsen r谩 sort. Ne hagyja ki. A v茅g茅n bossz煤s lesz, de ne hagyja ki.