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螕蟻维渭渭伪 蟽蟿慰谓 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎 渭慰蠀
螣 危伪蟻位 螒位伪尾慰蠀维谓 苇蠂蔚喂 未喂伪蟺蟻维尉蔚喂 苇谓伪 苇纬魏位畏渭伪. 螆蠂蔚喂 蟽魏慰蟿蠋蟽蔚喂. 螖蔚谓 蟿慰 伪蟻谓蔚委蟿伪喂. 螉蟽伪 委蟽伪, 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿维 魏维蟺慰喂慰谓 蟿蟻蠈蟺慰 谓喂蠋胃蔚喂 伪谓伪魏慰蠉蠁喂蟽畏, 伪蠁慰蠉 苇蠂蔚喂 蟺蔚蟻维蟽蔚喂 蟺喂伪 芦伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 维位位畏 渭蔚蟻喂维禄 魏伪喂 渭蟺慰蟻蔚委 谓伪 蟽魏苇蠁蟿蔚蟿伪喂 蟺喂慰 魏伪胃伪蟻维. 螣 危伪蟻位 螒位伪尾慰蠀维谓 蔚委谓伪喂 蔚蟺喂蟽蟿萎渭慰谓伪蟼, 慰喂魏慰纬蔚谓蔚喂维蟻蠂畏蟼 魏伪喂 未蔚谓 蟺蟻苇蟺蔚喂 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻维蟽蔚喂 蟿畏谓 蠀蟺蠈位慰喂蟺畏 味蠅萎 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟿畏 蠁蠀位伪魏萎. 螠喂伪 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿喂维 伪蟺蠈 未喂魏畏纬蠈蟻慰蠀蟼, 蟽蠀谓伪未苇位蠁慰蠀蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪位位维 魏伪喂 维蟿慰渭伪 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟿蔚谓慰蠉 慰喂魏慰纬蔚谓蔚喂伪魏慰蠉 蟿慰蠀 蟺蔚蟻喂尾维位位慰谓蟿慰蟼 伪纬蠅谓委味蔚蟿伪喂 谓鈥� 伪谓伪魏伪位蠉蠄蔚喂 蔚位伪蠁蟻蠀谓蟿喂魏维, 谓伪 魏蔚蟻未委蟽蔚喂 纬喂伪 蠂维蟻畏 蟿慰蠀 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺喂蔚委魏蔚喂伪 蟿慰蠀 未喂魏伪蟽蟿畏蟻委慰蠀 蔚谓维谓蟿喂伪 蟽蟿畏谓 魏慰喂谓萎 纬谓蠋渭畏 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪魏蔚蟻伪蠀谓蠋谓蔚喂 蟿慰 芦蟽蟿蠀纬蔚蟻蠈 蔚纬魏位畏渭伪蟿委伪禄. 螞苇谓蔚 蟺蠅蟼 畏 蟺蟻维尉畏 蟿慰蠀 未蔚谓 萎蟿伪谓 蟺蟻慰渭蔚位蔚蟿畏渭苇谓畏. 韦畏 蟽蟿喂纬渭萎 蟿慰蠀 蔚纬魏位萎渭伪蟿慰蟼 蟿伪 谓蔚蠉蟻伪 蟿慰蠀 萎蟿伪谓 蟿伪蟻伪纬渭苇谓伪, 未蔚谓 蔚委蠂蔚 蟽蠀谓伪委蟽胃畏蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 蟿喂 苇魏伪谓蔚. 螝喂 蠈渭蠅蟼, 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰 魏蔚位委 蟿慰蠀 慰 委未喂慰蟼 慰 螒位伪尾慰蠀维谓 尾纬维味蔚喂 渭喂伪 魏蟻伪蠀纬萎 伪蟺蔚位蟺喂蟽委伪蟼. 螖蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 伪胃蠋慰蟼, 未蔚 胃苇位蔚喂 谓伪 尾纬蔚喂 伪蟺鈥� 蟿畏 蠁蠀位伪魏萎. 韦慰 渭蠈谓慰 蟺慰蠀 味畏蟿维 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪蟼 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼 蟺慰蠀 谓伪 蟿慰谓 魏伪蟿伪位维尾蔚喂. 螝伪喂 慰 魏位萎蟻慰蟼 蟺苇蠁蟿蔚喂 蟽蟿慰谓 伪谓伪魏蟻喂蟿萎 蟿畏蟼 蠀蟺蠈胃蔚蟽畏蟼 螘蟻谓苇蟽蟿 螝慰渭蔚位喂蠋. . .
240 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1946
66 people are currently reading
2795 people want to read
About the author
Georges Simenon
2,536听books2,163听followersGeorges Joseph Christian Simenon (1903 鈥� 1989) was a Belgian writer. A prolific author who published nearly 500 novels and numerous short works, Simenon is best known as the creator of the fictional detective Jules Maigret.
Although he never resided in Belgium after 1922, he remained a Belgian citizen throughout his life.
Simenon was one of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century, capable of writing 60 to 80 pages per day. His oeuvre includes nearly 200 novels, over 150 novellas, several autobiographical works, numerous articles, and scores of pulp novels written under more than two dozen pseudonyms. Altogether, about 550 million copies of his works have been printed.
He is best known, however, for his 75 novels and 28 short stories featuring Commissaire Maigret. The first novel in the series, Pietr-le-Letton, appeared in 1931; the last one, Maigret et M. Charles, was published in 1972. The Maigret novels were translated into all major languages and several of them were turned into films and radio plays. Two television series (1960-63 and 1992-93) have been made in Great Britain.
During his "American" period, Simenon reached the height of his creative powers, and several novels of those years were inspired by the context in which they were written (Trois chambres 脿 Manhattan (1946), Maigret 脿 New York (1947), Maigret se f芒che (1947)).
Simenon also wrote a large number of "psychological novels", such as La neige 茅tait sale (1948) or Le fils (1957), as well as several autobiographical works, in particular Je me souviens (1945), Pedigree (1948), M茅moires intimes (1981).
In 1966, Simenon was given the MWA's highest honor, the Grand Master Award.
In 2005 he was nominated for the title of De Grootste Belg (The Greatest Belgian). In the Flemish version he ended 77th place. In the Walloon version he ended 10th place.
Although he never resided in Belgium after 1922, he remained a Belgian citizen throughout his life.
Simenon was one of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century, capable of writing 60 to 80 pages per day. His oeuvre includes nearly 200 novels, over 150 novellas, several autobiographical works, numerous articles, and scores of pulp novels written under more than two dozen pseudonyms. Altogether, about 550 million copies of his works have been printed.
He is best known, however, for his 75 novels and 28 short stories featuring Commissaire Maigret. The first novel in the series, Pietr-le-Letton, appeared in 1931; the last one, Maigret et M. Charles, was published in 1972. The Maigret novels were translated into all major languages and several of them were turned into films and radio plays. Two television series (1960-63 and 1992-93) have been made in Great Britain.
During his "American" period, Simenon reached the height of his creative powers, and several novels of those years were inspired by the context in which they were written (Trois chambres 脿 Manhattan (1946), Maigret 脿 New York (1947), Maigret se f芒che (1947)).
Simenon also wrote a large number of "psychological novels", such as La neige 茅tait sale (1948) or Le fils (1957), as well as several autobiographical works, in particular Je me souviens (1945), Pedigree (1948), M茅moires intimes (1981).
In 1966, Simenon was given the MWA's highest honor, the Grand Master Award.
In 2005 he was nominated for the title of De Grootste Belg (The Greatest Belgian). In the Flemish version he ended 77th place. In the Walloon version he ended 10th place.
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August 23, 2022
Originally published in 1947, Georges Simenon鈥檚 compelling existential tale, Act of Passion, is one of the very few of the author's five hundred novels written in the first-person. Although assuming the form of a lengthy letter penned in a jail cell by condemned prisoner Charles Alavoine, for our ease of reading, Alavoine鈥檚 letter contains all the standard punctuation for dialogue and takes on the form of a conventional novel.
Also fortunate for readers is how this New York Review Books (NYRB) edition includes an astute Introduction by film critic Roger Ebert. And since Act of Passion is one of the author鈥檚 鈥渉ard novels,鈥� a psychological study of character rather than detective mystery, I鈥檒l focus on what I perceive as key moments and conflicts in the life of the narrator.
Charles Alavoine, a man Roger Ebert deems as entirely encased within himself, is devoid of any capacity for empathy. Charles is a country doctor, his mother鈥檚 choice (either doctor or priest), a career he himself considers no more than a job; indeed, Charles would much rather be outside in the fields.
Of course, a French novel of a country doctor by the name of Charles married to a beautiful wife (actually, his second wife) will have inevitable associations with Flaubert鈥檚 Madame Bovary. I suspect an entire essay could be written comparing the two novels but I will refrain from making any further parallels beyond noting these obvious similarities.
鈥淔rom my bench I could see the jurors scowling and wrinkling up their foreheads, sometimes jotting down notes like detective story readers whom an author, without seeming to do so, has switched on to a new track.鈥� What a great Simenon line 鈥� from an author of many dozen Detective Maigret stories.
Anyway, Charles has the distinct impression he has broken through to the other side, 鈥淚 have enormous advantage for I have killed鈥� - claiming the man he is writing to, the Examining Magistrate, is the only person he would like to comprehend the underlying reasons for his murder, reasons expressing his own profound wisdom of the true workings of the world. "It would be so much easier if you too had killed!"
But there鈥檚 the rub. How much wisdom and understanding does Charles Alavoine, in fact, possess? For starters, as Roger Ebert remarks, Alavoine is a fetishist: 鈥淗is eye for specifics is that of a fetishist: he remembers a street, a caf茅, a room, a train, how the light fell 鈥� and always the lonely Alavoine is at the center. The accretion of details suggests the mind of a masturbator re-creating scenes of past erotic intensity. It is possible to imagine Alavoine reading over his own pages and feeling aroused.鈥�
Moreover, after the premature death of his docile first wife delivering her second daughter, Charles has to deal with the stunning Armande, a gorgeous blonde who initially enters his household as his daughter鈥檚 nurse but eventually completely takes over. And Armande鈥檚 domination is total, including, in effect, forcing Charles into marriage and holding Charles's mother under her powerful thumb. How much does Armande鈥檚 perfectionism and control (nowadays our term for such a personality is 鈥渃ontrol freak鈥�) have on pushing Charles Alavoine to hook up with young barfly Martine from the Belgian city of Li猫ge (nice touch, Georges, since Li猫ge is also your native city), the woman Alavoine falls in love with and eventually strangles?
Charles also writes of the terrible emptiness he feels, how he alone realizes just how indifferent the universe is to our fragile human desires. An all-pervasive uneasiness forces Charles to conclude he is wasting his life. But then it happens: Martine awakens in him a furious desire - not only a sexual desire but also a desire to "find his shadow.鈥� Ah, the mention of finding one's shadow opens the novel up to a thoroughly Jungian interpretation, the shadow referring to the unconscious, dark aspects of personality.
However, there鈥檚 a price for his newfound passion. Charles is so totally bound to Martine, wants to melt into her, such that he has "awakened the phantoms" and thus loses psychic control, even to the point where he hates all other men who so much as approach her. He desires Martine and demands the world completely accommodate his desire. Big problem. A force, a passion, has been given to him, a man who up until this point in his life 鈥渄idn鈥檛 even have a shadow.鈥� We hear echoes from Jean-Paul Sartre鈥檚 鈥�No Exit that "hell is other people鈥� when Charles rages against what he labels 鈥渢he Other,鈥� when he rages against an entire society he deems a suffocating net. And there are times when Charles's rage, his phantoms, boil over - he physically assaults Martine.
Charles recognizes he is, at times, possessed by his rage. He also realizes there are other times his obsession for Martine becomes overwhelming. But what about his own ignorance? Throughout his letter, Charles claims a capacity for unique awareness and a rarefied understanding.
Alas, by my eye, one of the key philosophical issues of Simenon鈥檚 novel: Charles can detect when he is in the grip of rage, of anger; likewise, he can identify those other times when he is filled with greed, of the need to make Martine his own. But how about his pervading ignorance, his lack of compassion and empathy? Such a lack can be much more pernicious, insidious and destructive since it is all inclusive; in other words, it doesn鈥檛 have an edge - he is continually snared in its grip.
And how much of our own life can we detect in Charles Alavoine? In the spirit of French existential novels written in first-person, such as Camus鈥檚 The Fall and Jean-Paul Sartre鈥檚 Nausea, Simenon's Act of Passion is a work of probing life-and-death questions, one I highly recommend.
"I burst into a rage, your Honour. Not only against Armande. Against all of you, against life, as you understand it, against the idea you have of the union of two beings and the heights of passion they can attain." - Georges Simenon, Act of Passion
April 26, 2021
IL FRUTTO PROIBITO
Nel film 鈥淟e fruit d茅fendu鈥� di Henri Verneuil il protagonista 猫 interpretato da Fernandel, qui con Martine/Fran莽oise Arnoul.
Vorrei tanto che un uomo, un uomo solo mi capisse. E desidererei che quell鈥檜omo fosse lei.
Romanzo insolito perch茅 sembra distaccarsi dal resto della produzione di Simenon sin dal titolo: e lo fa nello stile e nella struttura.
Perch茅 comincia dalla fine per risalire al principio e tornare a quella fine. Insolito perch茅 鈥渓a fine 猫 nota鈥�, per cos矛 dire.
Monologo e flusso di coscienza sotto forma di epistola indirizzata all鈥檜omo incaricato di giudicare.
Chi scrive ha un gran bisogno di confessare, e forse quel giudice cui indirizza il suo scritto ammissione, autoanalisi e al contempo liberazione 猫 pi霉 di un semplice giudice terreno, umano.
E forse quello che il lungo sfogo scritto cerca non 猫 assoluzione, ma piuttosto comprensione.
Un marito non troppo abile a nascondere il suo 鈥渢radimento鈥�.
Charles Alavoine ha avuto poche possibilit脿 di scelta nella vita, ha vissuto all鈥檕mbra di quello che gli altri gli hanno imposto.
A cominciare dal padre, uomo dedito al bere e a inseguire gonnelle, che finisce suicida dopo aver eroso il patrimonio di famiglia.
Accanto, una donna, moglie passiva e remissiva, ma madre possessiva e dominatrice, che per il figlio sogna un futuro di medico o di prete.
Charles 鈥渄ecide鈥� per il primo dei due.
La sua prima moglie, che non aveva ufficio di dominarlo, dura troppo poco, lo lascia vedovo con due bambine.
Quando si risposa, Charles finisce accanto a un鈥檃ltra donna che gli organizza la vita
Il frutto proibito.
Da queste premesse a volte nascono serial killer. O comunque, uomini che all鈥檌mprovviso si rivolgono alla violenza.
脠 cos矛 anche per Charles che trova una giovane donna, Martine, che diventa la sua amante. Per Charles 猫 l鈥檌llusione di essere finalmente in grado di scegliere, di agire in proprio e non essere agito
Una giovane donna a suo volta e suo modo consumata e segnata: ma, per Charles, troppo libera e disinvolta. La gelosia che l鈥檜omo sente crescere spiega il suo gesto violento, l鈥檜ccisione di quella ragazza.
Il lavoro di scavo e analisi psicologica rimane all鈥檃ltezza cui Simenon ci ha abituato, al limite del chirurgico. Data la struttura del romanzo quella che viene a essere penalizzata 猫 l鈥檃ttesa, la suspense.
Non sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more.
Il film 猫 del 1952.
Nel film 鈥淟e fruit d茅fendu鈥� di Henri Verneuil il protagonista 猫 interpretato da Fernandel, qui con Martine/Fran莽oise Arnoul.
Vorrei tanto che un uomo, un uomo solo mi capisse. E desidererei che quell鈥檜omo fosse lei.
Romanzo insolito perch茅 sembra distaccarsi dal resto della produzione di Simenon sin dal titolo: e lo fa nello stile e nella struttura.
Perch茅 comincia dalla fine per risalire al principio e tornare a quella fine. Insolito perch茅 鈥渓a fine 猫 nota鈥�, per cos矛 dire.
Monologo e flusso di coscienza sotto forma di epistola indirizzata all鈥檜omo incaricato di giudicare.
Chi scrive ha un gran bisogno di confessare, e forse quel giudice cui indirizza il suo scritto ammissione, autoanalisi e al contempo liberazione 猫 pi霉 di un semplice giudice terreno, umano.
E forse quello che il lungo sfogo scritto cerca non 猫 assoluzione, ma piuttosto comprensione.
Un marito non troppo abile a nascondere il suo 鈥渢radimento鈥�.
Charles Alavoine ha avuto poche possibilit脿 di scelta nella vita, ha vissuto all鈥檕mbra di quello che gli altri gli hanno imposto.
A cominciare dal padre, uomo dedito al bere e a inseguire gonnelle, che finisce suicida dopo aver eroso il patrimonio di famiglia.
Accanto, una donna, moglie passiva e remissiva, ma madre possessiva e dominatrice, che per il figlio sogna un futuro di medico o di prete.
Charles 鈥渄ecide鈥� per il primo dei due.
La sua prima moglie, che non aveva ufficio di dominarlo, dura troppo poco, lo lascia vedovo con due bambine.
Quando si risposa, Charles finisce accanto a un鈥檃ltra donna che gli organizza la vita
Il frutto proibito.
Da queste premesse a volte nascono serial killer. O comunque, uomini che all鈥檌mprovviso si rivolgono alla violenza.
脠 cos矛 anche per Charles che trova una giovane donna, Martine, che diventa la sua amante. Per Charles 猫 l鈥檌llusione di essere finalmente in grado di scegliere, di agire in proprio e non essere agito
Una giovane donna a suo volta e suo modo consumata e segnata: ma, per Charles, troppo libera e disinvolta. La gelosia che l鈥檜omo sente crescere spiega il suo gesto violento, l鈥檜ccisione di quella ragazza.
Il lavoro di scavo e analisi psicologica rimane all鈥檃ltezza cui Simenon ci ha abituato, al limite del chirurgico. Data la struttura del romanzo quella che viene a essere penalizzata 猫 l鈥檃ttesa, la suspense.
Non sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more.
Il film 猫 del 1952.
February 13, 2020
Charles Alavoine, condannato a morte per omicidio, racconta al suo giudice dal carcere quale 猫 stata la sua vita e quali sono le ragioni che l'hanno portato a tale situazione. Figlio di un padre alcolizzato che si suicida dopo aver sperperato tutti i suoi beni, cresce nella cura di una madre dominante e possessiva.
Dopo essere stato vedovo da un primo matrimonio si risposa con una donna che presto soppianter脿 l'autorit脿 materna. Charles si sente "un uomo senza ombra".
Durante un breve viaggio, incontra Martine, una giovane segretaria, insipida e senza alcun fascino particolare, ma con un passato oscuro e tormentato. Da allora in poi la vita di Charles diventa un vero inferno: ha bisogno di appropriarsi interamente di Martine e prova una atroce gelosia per il suo passato, che appartiene solo a quell'altra "Martine" che non potr脿 mai essere la sua...
Georges Simenon scrisse "Una lettera al mio giudice" nel dicembre 1946, quando viveva in Arizona, negli Stati Uniti. Sebbene la vita di Simenon abbia poco a che fare con quella del suo protagonista in questo romanzo, 猫 vero che nessuno meglio di lui pu貌 descrivere un personaggio ossessionato da una passione inarrestabile e malata.
Oggi, nel 2019, i TG conteggiano i numeri di femminicidi mese per mese, le donne maltrattate e picchiate dall'uomo (come maschio), 70 anni fa Simenon prova a mettersi nei panni di uno di questi "malati d'amore", fa scrivere la storia a lui, l'assassino, che cerca di scusarsi e di far capire perch茅 l'ha fatto, ma siamo noi i giudici (i lettori) e la nostra condanna deve essere la stessa, 猫 sempre l'uomo (come maschio) il colpevole, non ci sono scuse, l'amore non c'entra.
Dopo essere stato vedovo da un primo matrimonio si risposa con una donna che presto soppianter脿 l'autorit脿 materna. Charles si sente "un uomo senza ombra".
"Continui a lavorare di fantasia鈥� Faccia uno sforzo鈥� A un tratto, l鈥檕mbra che l鈥檃ccompagnava scompare鈥�
Non si sposta, n茅 passa alle sue spalle perch茅 lei ha cambiato direzione. Ho detto proprio cos矛: scompare.
E improvvisamente lei si trova per la strada senza la sua ombra. Si volta e non la trova; si guarda i piedi e li vede emergere da una pozza di luce.
Sull鈥檃ltro lato della via le case danno sempre la loro fresca ombra. Passano due uomini che chiacchierano tranquillamente e le loro ombre li precedono allo stesso ritmo, facendo i medesimi gesti.
Ecco un cane sul bordo del marciapiede: anche lui ha la sua ombra.
Allora lei si tocca, e si sente sotto le mani un corpo che ha la consistenza degli altri giorni. Affretta il passo e poi si ferma di colpo, con la speranza di ritrovare la sua ombra. Si mette a correre: niente, sempre niente. Fa dietrofront e sul lastricato lucido del marciapiede non c鈥櫭� nessuna macchia scura.
Il mondo 猫 pieno di ombre rassicuranti.
Lei non sta sognando. Non ha pi霉 la sua ombra e allora si rivolge disperato a un passante.
芦Scusi, signore鈥β�.
Quello si ferma e la guarda: vuol dire che lei esiste, anche se ha perduto la sua ombra. Il passante aspetta che gli dica che cosa vuole da lui."
Durante un breve viaggio, incontra Martine, una giovane segretaria, insipida e senza alcun fascino particolare, ma con un passato oscuro e tormentato. Da allora in poi la vita di Charles diventa un vero inferno: ha bisogno di appropriarsi interamente di Martine e prova una atroce gelosia per il suo passato, che appartiene solo a quell'altra "Martine" che non potr脿 mai essere la sua...
Georges Simenon scrisse "Una lettera al mio giudice" nel dicembre 1946, quando viveva in Arizona, negli Stati Uniti. Sebbene la vita di Simenon abbia poco a che fare con quella del suo protagonista in questo romanzo, 猫 vero che nessuno meglio di lui pu貌 descrivere un personaggio ossessionato da una passione inarrestabile e malata.
Oggi, nel 2019, i TG conteggiano i numeri di femminicidi mese per mese, le donne maltrattate e picchiate dall'uomo (come maschio), 70 anni fa Simenon prova a mettersi nei panni di uno di questi "malati d'amore", fa scrivere la storia a lui, l'assassino, che cerca di scusarsi e di far capire perch茅 l'ha fatto, ma siamo noi i giudici (i lettori) e la nostra condanna deve essere la stessa, 猫 sempre l'uomo (come maschio) il colpevole, non ci sono scuse, l'amore non c'entra.
July 6, 2018
Epistolary. First person. Dr. Alavoine, recently convicted for murder, is writing to M. Com茅liau, the Examining Magistrate in his recent murder trial. The convict believes that during discovery he established some sort of connection with the judge. For many weeks the two men and their lawyers sat across from each other discussing details of the case. Now Dr. Alavoine is writing to the judge from prison. He wants the judge to know that his opinion that he acted without premeditation was incorrect.
Dr Alavoine and the village setting in which he practices are meant to evoke thoughts of Charles Bovary. I wouldn't pursue this idea if his given name weren鈥檛 in fact also Charles. But this is a very libertine Charles. He screws any female who walks. He kills his first wife with his sexual attentions, so intent is he upon siring the traditional son and heir. Jeanne, the wife, delivers a large girl as if to spite him, though she is in fact quite docile; then she dies. Then the rare thing happens. The woman who will soon be Dr. Alavoine鈥檚 second wife, Armande, who possesses truly Madame Bovary-like beauty, waltzes into his life. She is without the flaws of her literary double. In fact, the woman is a wonder. But Charles can only think of women as either whores or sheep. How could he possibly think himself equal to such an amazing woman. He can鈥檛. It is he who's submissive to Armande. This arrangement represents a profound humiliation for him.
His life comes to seem strange. He feels detached, as if he were watching a movie with himself in a minor role. The kindness of neighbors and colleagues, his high standing in the community -- all this leaves him in disbelief. Eventually his low self-esteem blossoms into a grander alienation. He descends into a kind of dissociative state. He sees himself as hungry, but he doesn鈥檛 know for what. Certainly it isn鈥檛 the comfortable existence at the side of this exquisite woman. He decides to be unfaithful to Armande and succeeds with a fat sleazy hooker who appalls even him.
Then on a professional trip to Nantes he meets Martine. He flips for her. She is submissive--the only sort of woman he can feel superior to. But how does this lead to murder? Martine we learn is heading to a meeting with a well-known rake in La Roche-sur-Yon, where Charles lives and practices. There's no way she can work for that lush, that reprobate, Charles thinks. He takes Martine home to his wife, explaining that she is a charge sent to him by a colleague. Martine moves into the spare room. Armande welcomes her and helps her find a flat. It's all Charles can do to stay sane when at home in his surgery seeing patients. For having Martine in the house with his wife means not having Martine.
Finally, she moves out and Charles goes to see her where she shares the home of a widow. He is the sort of man who gets jealous of a woman's past liaisons. And now that she is out of his home, out of his control, he explodes with rage. Under duress he coerces a confession of dubious accuracy from her about her past. The only way to cleanse her of this past, of course, is to kill her. This will be her deliverance.
Its not hard to see, coming from the home he did, how Charles has missed a crucial part his development. He is incapable of having an adult relationship, but must seek out a barfly half his age to fall head over heels in love with. So when the pangs of love do finally come, he is unfamiliar with them and lacks the emotional maturity to master his primitive jealousies. He begins to lay out his rationale for murder. Certainly, he believes in the distinctions he makes, but to the reader they are gibberish, madness. He鈥檚 around the bend, has been for some time, and his attempts to reconstruct, to justify the murder are pathetic, futile, meaningless.
He possesses no ability to forgive Martine much less to forget her past. His god-like attitude is 'why hasn鈥檛 this woman better prepared herself for my inevitable arrival?' He takes her failure in this regard as a personal insult. Why has she been so sleazy? Why has she fucked so many men? He reminded me here for a moment of the crazed Eric Roberts character in the film Star 80. As for Martine, from her we no longer hear a peep. She has been subsumed by Charles鈥檚 crazy scheming. He is constantly on the look out for 鈥渢he Other鈥�; that is to say, her previous libertine character. He is determined to beat any trace of it out of her. Any reminder of that previous life 鈥� he beats her senseless. Nor is she allowed to show fear.
I came to hate Charles. He is without a single sympathetic shard to his character. An utter dread builds in the reader at the prospect of what he might do next. Certainly death for poor Martine comes to seem preferable. Charles is a psycho, truly reprehensible. I didn't want to spend any more time with him and longed for the novel to end, but it didn't. I think however that this was a flaw in the reader, who does not possess the requisite macabre fascination such fiction demands.
This is good Simenon, though not his best. It's funny, the first person Simenons I鈥檝e read tend to be his weakest. But then I've only read about eight novels or so out of four hundred, hardly a statistically reliable sample. The strongest works I鈥檝e read are rendered in third-person; they are and . Three and a half stars for this one. Recommended with reservations.
Dr Alavoine and the village setting in which he practices are meant to evoke thoughts of Charles Bovary. I wouldn't pursue this idea if his given name weren鈥檛 in fact also Charles. But this is a very libertine Charles. He screws any female who walks. He kills his first wife with his sexual attentions, so intent is he upon siring the traditional son and heir. Jeanne, the wife, delivers a large girl as if to spite him, though she is in fact quite docile; then she dies. Then the rare thing happens. The woman who will soon be Dr. Alavoine鈥檚 second wife, Armande, who possesses truly Madame Bovary-like beauty, waltzes into his life. She is without the flaws of her literary double. In fact, the woman is a wonder. But Charles can only think of women as either whores or sheep. How could he possibly think himself equal to such an amazing woman. He can鈥檛. It is he who's submissive to Armande. This arrangement represents a profound humiliation for him.
His life comes to seem strange. He feels detached, as if he were watching a movie with himself in a minor role. The kindness of neighbors and colleagues, his high standing in the community -- all this leaves him in disbelief. Eventually his low self-esteem blossoms into a grander alienation. He descends into a kind of dissociative state. He sees himself as hungry, but he doesn鈥檛 know for what. Certainly it isn鈥檛 the comfortable existence at the side of this exquisite woman. He decides to be unfaithful to Armande and succeeds with a fat sleazy hooker who appalls even him.
Then on a professional trip to Nantes he meets Martine. He flips for her. She is submissive--the only sort of woman he can feel superior to. But how does this lead to murder? Martine we learn is heading to a meeting with a well-known rake in La Roche-sur-Yon, where Charles lives and practices. There's no way she can work for that lush, that reprobate, Charles thinks. He takes Martine home to his wife, explaining that she is a charge sent to him by a colleague. Martine moves into the spare room. Armande welcomes her and helps her find a flat. It's all Charles can do to stay sane when at home in his surgery seeing patients. For having Martine in the house with his wife means not having Martine.
Finally, she moves out and Charles goes to see her where she shares the home of a widow. He is the sort of man who gets jealous of a woman's past liaisons. And now that she is out of his home, out of his control, he explodes with rage. Under duress he coerces a confession of dubious accuracy from her about her past. The only way to cleanse her of this past, of course, is to kill her. This will be her deliverance.
Its not hard to see, coming from the home he did, how Charles has missed a crucial part his development. He is incapable of having an adult relationship, but must seek out a barfly half his age to fall head over heels in love with. So when the pangs of love do finally come, he is unfamiliar with them and lacks the emotional maturity to master his primitive jealousies. He begins to lay out his rationale for murder. Certainly, he believes in the distinctions he makes, but to the reader they are gibberish, madness. He鈥檚 around the bend, has been for some time, and his attempts to reconstruct, to justify the murder are pathetic, futile, meaningless.
He possesses no ability to forgive Martine much less to forget her past. His god-like attitude is 'why hasn鈥檛 this woman better prepared herself for my inevitable arrival?' He takes her failure in this regard as a personal insult. Why has she been so sleazy? Why has she fucked so many men? He reminded me here for a moment of the crazed Eric Roberts character in the film Star 80. As for Martine, from her we no longer hear a peep. She has been subsumed by Charles鈥檚 crazy scheming. He is constantly on the look out for 鈥渢he Other鈥�; that is to say, her previous libertine character. He is determined to beat any trace of it out of her. Any reminder of that previous life 鈥� he beats her senseless. Nor is she allowed to show fear.
I came to hate Charles. He is without a single sympathetic shard to his character. An utter dread builds in the reader at the prospect of what he might do next. Certainly death for poor Martine comes to seem preferable. Charles is a psycho, truly reprehensible. I didn't want to spend any more time with him and longed for the novel to end, but it didn't. I think however that this was a flaw in the reader, who does not possess the requisite macabre fascination such fiction demands.
This is good Simenon, though not his best. It's funny, the first person Simenons I鈥檝e read tend to be his weakest. But then I've only read about eight novels or so out of four hundred, hardly a statistically reliable sample. The strongest works I鈥檝e read are rendered in third-person; they are and . Three and a half stars for this one. Recommended with reservations.
December 7, 2024
"I am not mad. I am just a man, a man like other man, but a man who has loved, who knows what love is" (Simenon 216).
What a HORRID novel.
So this is a story of murderer, Dr. Charles Alavoine who has had a boring, bourgeois existence. He is married to the pretty, but ordinary Armande, has two daughters. Life doesn't seem that all bad until he meets Martine!
Martine- nothing so exciting about her, except she's a masochist and reminds Charles of his first love. So because she loves him, he abuses her. He beats her. He strangles her to keep her near him. Then while in prison, tries to convince a judge of his rationale for killing his lover. I was baffled. This is supposed to be a classic to end all classics? Some kind of masterpiece? Perhaps for some. Not for me.
I put this on a shelf of novels that feature the hot white, male glaze that readers seem to be blinded by because of historical context, history and country (this is a French novel), or that a novel that is about a man's misogynistic behavior towards women is something to cheer on. It is in the vein of "Lolita" except Martine is old enough to fuck Charles; reminded me of the gross perversity of Jelenik's "Lust" which really baffled me- and now, I put it on the same hate reads like "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and "My Marriage".
I felt nothing for the characters except Martine, who is unfortunately the prey of this novel's awful sexual politics. The idea of not being able to escape an abusive older man is a tale that is old as time. But to be seen as a towering classic of world literature? I have my doubts about this.
What a HORRID novel.
So this is a story of murderer, Dr. Charles Alavoine who has had a boring, bourgeois existence. He is married to the pretty, but ordinary Armande, has two daughters. Life doesn't seem that all bad until he meets Martine!
Martine- nothing so exciting about her, except she's a masochist and reminds Charles of his first love. So because she loves him, he abuses her. He beats her. He strangles her to keep her near him. Then while in prison, tries to convince a judge of his rationale for killing his lover. I was baffled. This is supposed to be a classic to end all classics? Some kind of masterpiece? Perhaps for some. Not for me.
I put this on a shelf of novels that feature the hot white, male glaze that readers seem to be blinded by because of historical context, history and country (this is a French novel), or that a novel that is about a man's misogynistic behavior towards women is something to cheer on. It is in the vein of "Lolita" except Martine is old enough to fuck Charles; reminded me of the gross perversity of Jelenik's "Lust" which really baffled me- and now, I put it on the same hate reads like "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and "My Marriage".
I felt nothing for the characters except Martine, who is unfortunately the prey of this novel's awful sexual politics. The idea of not being able to escape an abusive older man is a tale that is old as time. But to be seen as a towering classic of world literature? I have my doubts about this.
Read
March 30, 2019Most Noir begins with a body. A dead body. Then some clever investigator unearths first a how, then a why, leading inexorably to a who. The reverse occurs here, in this epistolary, existential tale.
Except for a brief half-page concluding chapter, the entire novel is a letter from a prisoner to his investigating magistrate. He has already confessed in court and awaits his verdict. The magistrate already knows the particulars, details that will be slowly revealed to us. But if he ever reads this letter - and I believe he will - he will learn in the opening two sentences its true purpose: I should like one man, just one, to understand me. And I would like that man to be you.
Or you. Or me. The reader, not just the addressee.
But it's easy to lose sight of that mission, so accustomed are we as readers to solve the mystery, even if that mystery here is reversed and we seek to learn not who killed, but who was killed.
We learn that the prisoner's mother and his wife both testified at his trial. So, he didn't kill them. Yet both added to his growing ennui. Which is what was causing an aching feeling when he finds himself out of town and in a bar. It is there, out of the rain but not alone, that he thinks in actual parenthesis: (I have always hated women who made faces when they smoked). Be that as it may, this particular wince was not a dealbreaker; maybe just a foreshadowing.
With a pretty good idea who the victim will be, we continue to learn the why and, ultimately, the how.
If the point was to understand the killer, then what I understood was that there was nothing to like about him. A killer without charm.
I see now that I forgot to mention some things about the murderer. He was a medical doctor. He was French. And his name was Charles.
Except for a brief half-page concluding chapter, the entire novel is a letter from a prisoner to his investigating magistrate. He has already confessed in court and awaits his verdict. The magistrate already knows the particulars, details that will be slowly revealed to us. But if he ever reads this letter - and I believe he will - he will learn in the opening two sentences its true purpose: I should like one man, just one, to understand me. And I would like that man to be you.
Or you. Or me. The reader, not just the addressee.
But it's easy to lose sight of that mission, so accustomed are we as readers to solve the mystery, even if that mystery here is reversed and we seek to learn not who killed, but who was killed.
We learn that the prisoner's mother and his wife both testified at his trial. So, he didn't kill them. Yet both added to his growing ennui. Which is what was causing an aching feeling when he finds himself out of town and in a bar. It is there, out of the rain but not alone, that he thinks in actual parenthesis: (I have always hated women who made faces when they smoked). Be that as it may, this particular wince was not a dealbreaker; maybe just a foreshadowing.
With a pretty good idea who the victim will be, we continue to learn the why and, ultimately, the how.
If the point was to understand the killer, then what I understood was that there was nothing to like about him. A killer without charm.
I see now that I forgot to mention some things about the murderer. He was a medical doctor. He was French. And his name was Charles.
March 29, 2018
Una morbosa ossessione.
脠 quella che travolge Charles, medico di campagna a La Roche-sur-Yon, Vandea, ancora Francia del Nord, quella regione che ormai sembra calamitare le letture dei miei ultimi mesi.
Charles che 猫 apparentemente un ignavo, un uomo che alla vita ha dato nulla pi霉 di quanto la vita ordinaria chiede a ciascuno di noi: due matrimoni (il secondo dei quali solo per convenzione), due figli, una professione rispettabile e rispettata.
Finch茅 non incontra Martine, la sua ombra perduta, giovane ragazza belga per la quale perde la testa, il cuore, la ragione.
脠 in una lunga lettera al suo giudice (il giudice istruttore che l'ha interrogato prima del processo e con il quale crede di intuire una qualche affinit脿 emotiva) che Charles si confessa per cercare di raccontarsi e fugare ogni dubbio sul suo delitto: un delitto d'amore premeditato, e non il gesto di un folle, come la condanna vorrebbe farlo sembrare.
Quella che emerge 猫 un'ossessione pura, una passione morbosa che lo scuote sin dall'inizio e che sin dall'inizio lo consegna, preda di una gelosia retroattiva incontrollabile, a un destino che pu貌 portare solo a una inesorabile autodistruzione.
脠 splendido, una volta di pi霉, lo scavo introspettivo di Simenon dei personaggi, ed 猫 annichilente l'emersione in superficie, nudo agli occhi di tutti, di quel cono d'ombra che 猫 in ciascuno di noi, e di quel desiderio che ognuno, almeno una volta nella vita, ha avuto di raccontarsi, e svelarsi, a qualcun altro.
芦Era come se la mia vista fosse diventata troppo acuta, come se, per esempio, fosse improvvisamente diventata sensibile ai raggi ultravioletti.
Ed ero l'unico che vedesse gli altri in quel modo, l'unico che si agitasse in un mondo ignaro di quello che stava succedendo a me.
Per anni e anni, insomma, avevo vissuto senza accorgermene. Avevo fatto tutto quello che mi avevano detto di fare con scrupolo, meglio che potevo: ma senza cercare di conoscerne il motivo, senza cercare di capire.禄
脠 quella che travolge Charles, medico di campagna a La Roche-sur-Yon, Vandea, ancora Francia del Nord, quella regione che ormai sembra calamitare le letture dei miei ultimi mesi.
Charles che 猫 apparentemente un ignavo, un uomo che alla vita ha dato nulla pi霉 di quanto la vita ordinaria chiede a ciascuno di noi: due matrimoni (il secondo dei quali solo per convenzione), due figli, una professione rispettabile e rispettata.
Finch茅 non incontra Martine, la sua ombra perduta, giovane ragazza belga per la quale perde la testa, il cuore, la ragione.
脠 in una lunga lettera al suo giudice (il giudice istruttore che l'ha interrogato prima del processo e con il quale crede di intuire una qualche affinit脿 emotiva) che Charles si confessa per cercare di raccontarsi e fugare ogni dubbio sul suo delitto: un delitto d'amore premeditato, e non il gesto di un folle, come la condanna vorrebbe farlo sembrare.
Quella che emerge 猫 un'ossessione pura, una passione morbosa che lo scuote sin dall'inizio e che sin dall'inizio lo consegna, preda di una gelosia retroattiva incontrollabile, a un destino che pu貌 portare solo a una inesorabile autodistruzione.
脠 splendido, una volta di pi霉, lo scavo introspettivo di Simenon dei personaggi, ed 猫 annichilente l'emersione in superficie, nudo agli occhi di tutti, di quel cono d'ombra che 猫 in ciascuno di noi, e di quel desiderio che ognuno, almeno una volta nella vita, ha avuto di raccontarsi, e svelarsi, a qualcun altro.
芦Era come se la mia vista fosse diventata troppo acuta, come se, per esempio, fosse improvvisamente diventata sensibile ai raggi ultravioletti.
Ed ero l'unico che vedesse gli altri in quel modo, l'unico che si agitasse in un mondo ignaro di quello che stava succedendo a me.
Per anni e anni, insomma, avevo vissuto senza accorgermene. Avevo fatto tutto quello che mi avevano detto di fare con scrupolo, meglio che potevo: ma senza cercare di conoscerne il motivo, senza cercare di capire.禄
November 21, 2021
危蠀纬魏位慰谓喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 尾喂尾位委慰!!!
螚 蔚尉慰渭慰位蠈纬畏蟽畏 蔚谓蠈蟼 纬喂伪蟿蟻慰蠉, 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿伪 蔚喂位喂魏蟻喂谓萎蟼, 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 谓伪 味畏蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 慰委魏蟿慰 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎 蟿慰蠀, 蔚尉畏纬蔚委 蟿伪 伪委蟿喂伪 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰谓 慰未萎纬畏蟽伪谓 蟽蟿慰 蠁蠈谓慰 蟿慰蠀, 位苇纬慰谓蟿伪蟼 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 未蔚 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽蔚 谓伪 蟺蔚喂 蟽蟿畏 未委魏畏, 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 苇谓伪 蔚谓蟿蠀蟺蠅蟽喂伪魏蠈 蠄蠀蠂慰纬蟻维蠁畏渭伪.
螚 蔚尉慰渭慰位蠈纬畏蟽畏 蔚谓蠈蟼 纬喂伪蟿蟻慰蠉, 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿伪 蔚喂位喂魏蟻喂谓萎蟼, 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 谓伪 味畏蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 慰委魏蟿慰 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎 蟿慰蠀, 蔚尉畏纬蔚委 蟿伪 伪委蟿喂伪 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰谓 慰未萎纬畏蟽伪谓 蟽蟿慰 蠁蠈谓慰 蟿慰蠀, 位苇纬慰谓蟿伪蟼 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 未蔚 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽蔚 谓伪 蟺蔚喂 蟽蟿畏 未委魏畏, 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 苇谓伪 蔚谓蟿蠀蟺蠅蟽喂伪魏蠈 蠄蠀蠂慰纬蟻维蠁畏渭伪.
January 29, 2023
L'apparente, tranquilla vita di un medico (lavoro, stima generale, figli, ecc) viene sconvolta nel momento stesso in cui sboccia la passione per un'altra donna. Ci貌 che viene vissuto come amore, in realt脿 猫 un mero possesso ossessivo e la nuova vita intrapresa non pu貌 che condurre a perdersi. Molta psicologia in questo romanzo, finissima descrizione degli stati d'animo, fuga da una vita perfetta solo in apparenza, ma che si percepisce come una prigione, ricerca di una passione vera, che per貌 diviene totalizzante al punto da mutarsi il ossessione paranoica e distruttiva, sono tutto temi che Simenon affronta in quest'opera. E che sembrano vedere l'uomo lacerato da una vita che non contempla serenit脿 e si divide tra vita socialmente perfetta, ma insipida e insoddisfacente e vita passionale, ma autodistruttiva. Che fare, allora, verrebbe da chiedersi?
July 14, 2013
The most disturbing of the romans durs I've read (I've read 6 or so) and not my favorite because of the way it disturbs but utterly impressive all the same. As far as I know it is the only novel Simenon wrote in first person, and this, as well as the nature of the crime, may account for my discomfort. It is, as are so many of Simenon's novels, masterful and memorable.
I read this immediately following Monsieur Monde Vanishes and the theme of a father, husband, respected member of society passively accepting his lot--a life that after all, has all the material comforts, societal connections and family--until fed up, he one day makes an irrevocable break--is the same. Yet the two men and their methods are very different: M. Monde disappears, taking up life as an ordinary unseen below-the-radar man while here, Charles Alavoine meets a young woman with whom he feels love--and life--for the first time. His desire is so intense, their sexual passion so acute, that he must possess her totally and completely, and it is not a spoiler to say to the point that he must take her life.
The novel explores passion, sexual desire and obsession in a way that seems extraordinary. At the same time, Simenon's evocation of setting, the atmosphere and society Alavoine moves among, is as fully wrought as in any of his novels. Here, the added dimension of Alavoine's intimate and intelligent voice (the novel is a letter to a judge and in French is titled that: Lettre a Mon Juge) makes it all the more unsettling.
I read this immediately following Monsieur Monde Vanishes and the theme of a father, husband, respected member of society passively accepting his lot--a life that after all, has all the material comforts, societal connections and family--until fed up, he one day makes an irrevocable break--is the same. Yet the two men and their methods are very different: M. Monde disappears, taking up life as an ordinary unseen below-the-radar man while here, Charles Alavoine meets a young woman with whom he feels love--and life--for the first time. His desire is so intense, their sexual passion so acute, that he must possess her totally and completely, and it is not a spoiler to say to the point that he must take her life.
The novel explores passion, sexual desire and obsession in a way that seems extraordinary. At the same time, Simenon's evocation of setting, the atmosphere and society Alavoine moves among, is as fully wrought as in any of his novels. Here, the added dimension of Alavoine's intimate and intelligent voice (the novel is a letter to a judge and in French is titled that: Lettre a Mon Juge) makes it all the more unsettling.
March 10, 2022
螘委谓伪喂 蟺伪蟻萎纬慰蟻慰 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 味蠈蠁慰 蟿蠅谓 畏渭蔚蟻蠋谓 渭伪蟼 谓伪 未喂伪尾维味蔚喂 魏伪谓蔚委蟼 苇谓伪 维蠄慰纬慰 蠄蠀蠂慰纬蟻维蠁畏渭伪 蟿慰蠀 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 魏伪喂 苇蟺蟻蔚蟺蔚 谓伪 未喂伪尾维蟽蠅 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠁伪蟿伪 未蠀慰-蟿蟻委伪 渭苇蟿蟻喂维 蟿慰蠀 纬喂伪 谓伪 魏伪蟿伪位萎尉蠅 蟽蔚 伪蠀蟿蠈. 韦慰 尾喂尾位委慰 尾苇尾伪喂伪 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 蔚蠀蠂维蟻喂蟽蟿慰, 蟺慰喂慰蟼 慰 位蠈纬慰蟼; 螘委谓伪喂 蠈渭蠅蟼 蟿蠈蟽慰 to the point, 蟿蠈蟽慰 蔚蠉蟽蟿慰蠂伪 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠀蟿喂魏蠈 蟽蟿畏谓 伪谓维位蠀蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 未喂伪蟿伪蟻伪纬渭苇谓畏蟼 伪蠀蟿萎蟼 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 蟽伪谓 慰 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 纬喂伪 蟺慰位位慰蟽蟿萎 蠁慰蟻维 谓伪 渭蟺伪委谓蔚喂 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 蟿慰蠀 蠈蟺蠅蟼 魏伪谓蔚委蟼 蔚蟺伪纬纬蔚位渭伪蟿委伪蟼 蠄蠀蠂委伪蟿蟻慰蟼.
螤慰蟿苇 未蔚谓 魏伪蟿维位伪尾伪 蟿喂蟼 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟺蔚蟻喂位伪渭尾维谓慰蠀谓 渭喂伪 位蔚蟺蟿慰渭蔚蟻萎 蟺蔚蟻委位畏蠄畏 蠈位畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 蟺位慰魏萎蟼. 韦慰 尾蟻委蟽魏蠅 蟿蔚位蔚委蠅蟼 伪谓蠈畏蟿慰. 螘喂未喂魏维 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 未喂伪尾维味蠅 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 魏伪谓 谓伪 魏慰喂蟿维尉蠅 慰位蠈魏位畏蟻慰 蟿慰 慰蟺喂蟽胃蠈蠁蠀位位慰. 螖蔚谓 苇蠂蔚喂 维位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蟽畏渭伪蟽委伪, 伪蠁慰蠉 慰 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 蟽蟿畏谓 慰蠀蟽委伪 苇蠂蔚喂 纬蟻维蠄蔚喂 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 苇谓伪 渭蠈谓慰 锟斤拷喂尾位委慰.
螤慰蟿苇 未蔚谓 魏伪蟿维位伪尾伪 蟿喂蟼 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟺蔚蟻喂位伪渭尾维谓慰蠀谓 渭喂伪 位蔚蟺蟿慰渭蔚蟻萎 蟺蔚蟻委位畏蠄畏 蠈位畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 蟺位慰魏萎蟼. 韦慰 尾蟻委蟽魏蠅 蟿蔚位蔚委蠅蟼 伪谓蠈畏蟿慰. 螘喂未喂魏维 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 未喂伪尾维味蠅 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 魏伪谓 谓伪 魏慰喂蟿维尉蠅 慰位蠈魏位畏蟻慰 蟿慰 慰蟺喂蟽胃蠈蠁蠀位位慰. 螖蔚谓 苇蠂蔚喂 维位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蟽畏渭伪蟽委伪, 伪蠁慰蠉 慰 危喂渭蔚谓慰谓 蟽蟿畏谓 慰蠀蟽委伪 苇蠂蔚喂 纬蟻维蠄蔚喂 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 苇谓伪 渭蠈谓慰 锟斤拷喂尾位委慰.
November 15, 2021
Scritto quasi ottant鈥檃nni fa, Lettera al mio giudice merita ancora di essere letto per la sua straordinaria e lucida attualit脿 e per il sottile, insidioso e anche perfido gioco che Simenon intesse per il lettore.
Il protagonista narratore 猫 il medico quarantenne Charles Alavoine sul quale pende l鈥檃ccusa di omicidio e che dal carcere scrive al giudice istruttore una lunga lettera-romanzo, 鈥漇ignor giudice, vorrei tanto che un uomo, un uomo solo, mi capisse. E desidererei che quell鈥檜omo fosse lei. Durante le settimane dell鈥檌struttoria abbiamo passato lunghe ore insieme: ma allora era troppo presto. Lei era un giudice, il mio giudice, e io avrei fatto la figura di chi cerca di scolparsi. Adesso sa che non si tratta di questo, vero?鈥�
Charles Alavoine 猫 di estrazione contadina ed 猫 entrato tardivamente, con la professione, nel mondo borghese a cui appartiene il giudice, 鈥漚 quel che mi 猫 sembrato di capire, lei ha su di me un vantaggio di almeno una generazione: suo padre era gi脿听 magistrato mentre il mio lavorava ancora la terra.鈥�
E a quel mondo borghese fatto di convenzioni, consuetudini, vizi, il medico non appartiene fino in fondo, soprattutto dopo aver conosciuto e amato a modo suo la giovane Martine. Martine rappresenter脿 il riscatto del medico, vedovo con due figlie, risposato, guidato per molto tempo dalla madre, ma anche la sua caduta.
Il gioco di Simenon, se cos矛 lo si pu貌 chiamare, prende forma sin dalle prime pagine, quando Charles Alavoine inizia la lettera al giudice mettendolo al suo livello, cercandone una complicit脿 comprensiva e nel far questo ammicca anche alle possibili debolezze del magistrato, 鈥滿i scusi se gliene parlo. Sono cose che non mi riguardano. Ma lei non ha indagato sui dettagli pi霉 intimi della mia vita? E vuole che io non abbia avuto la tentazione di fare lo stesso? Cinque o sei volte, quasi sempre alla stessa ora, verso la fine dell鈥檌nterrogatorio, lei ha ricevuto delle telefonate che la turbavano, la mettevano a disagio. Rispondeva a monosillabi, per quanto possibile. Consultava l鈥檕rologio, assumendo un鈥檈spressione distaccata.
芦No... Fra un鈥檕ra, non prima... 猫 impossibile... S矛鈥� No... Non adesso...禄.
Una volta si 猫 lasciato sfuggire, inavvertitamente: 芦No, tesoro...禄. Ed 猫 arrossito, signor giudice. Ha guardato me, come se fossi stato l鈥檜nico che听contava. Con gli altri due, o meglio con l鈥檃vvocato Gabriel, si 猫 scusato superficialmente.芦Perdoni l鈥檌nterruzione, avvocato... Dov鈥檈ravamo rimasti?禄.
Tante cose le ho capite, e lei sa che le ho capite! Perch茅 io, vede, ho comunque un immenso vantaggio su听di lei: ho ucciso.鈥�
La lucidit脿 di Charles ci fa solidarizzare con lui, all鈥檌nizio, ma con l鈥檃vanzare della storia prevale lo sconcerto, prima, e la ripulsa, dopo, ma ormai il gioco 猫 fatto: non traggano in inganno l鈥檃mante remissiva, la moglie austera e calcolatrice, la madre avvolgente, Charles non 猫 una vittima.
A poco, a poco emerge il lato oscuro di Charles, il lato violento e incontenibile: Charles picchia Martine per 鈥�.. amore, 鈥滳redevo che non sarebbe pi霉 successo, che in me la bestia non si sarebbe svegliata mai pi霉. L鈥檃mavo, signor giudice: 猫 una parola che vorrei gridarle a squarciagola.鈥�, e dopo le chiede perdono, ma per 鈥�. amore, la uccide per preservare un鈥檌dea di purezza. Charles 猫 in balia dei suoi fantasmi che pi霉 volte spera di poter ricacciare indietro, 鈥漰resto, prestissimo sarebbe venuto il giorno in cui non avremmo pi霉 dovuto farci tante domande e in cui i fantasmi si sarebbero dileguati.鈥�
Pi霉 volte Charles ribadisce di non essere pazzo, fino alla fine 鈥漀on sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa che cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more.鈥�, con l鈥檜ltimo tentativo di tirarci dentro e a leggere ottant鈥檃nni dopo sulla pagina della 听cronaca 鈥滾a picchiava senza piet脿 per 芦educarla禄, diceva lui. Per 芦darle una lezione禄 su come si dovesse comportare.鈥� per noi valgono le parole di De Andr猫: 鈥漚nche se voi vi credete assolti, siete lo stesso coinvolti鈥�.
Il protagonista narratore 猫 il medico quarantenne Charles Alavoine sul quale pende l鈥檃ccusa di omicidio e che dal carcere scrive al giudice istruttore una lunga lettera-romanzo, 鈥漇ignor giudice, vorrei tanto che un uomo, un uomo solo, mi capisse. E desidererei che quell鈥檜omo fosse lei. Durante le settimane dell鈥檌struttoria abbiamo passato lunghe ore insieme: ma allora era troppo presto. Lei era un giudice, il mio giudice, e io avrei fatto la figura di chi cerca di scolparsi. Adesso sa che non si tratta di questo, vero?鈥�
Charles Alavoine 猫 di estrazione contadina ed 猫 entrato tardivamente, con la professione, nel mondo borghese a cui appartiene il giudice, 鈥漚 quel che mi 猫 sembrato di capire, lei ha su di me un vantaggio di almeno una generazione: suo padre era gi脿听 magistrato mentre il mio lavorava ancora la terra.鈥�
E a quel mondo borghese fatto di convenzioni, consuetudini, vizi, il medico non appartiene fino in fondo, soprattutto dopo aver conosciuto e amato a modo suo la giovane Martine. Martine rappresenter脿 il riscatto del medico, vedovo con due figlie, risposato, guidato per molto tempo dalla madre, ma anche la sua caduta.
Il gioco di Simenon, se cos矛 lo si pu貌 chiamare, prende forma sin dalle prime pagine, quando Charles Alavoine inizia la lettera al giudice mettendolo al suo livello, cercandone una complicit脿 comprensiva e nel far questo ammicca anche alle possibili debolezze del magistrato, 鈥滿i scusi se gliene parlo. Sono cose che non mi riguardano. Ma lei non ha indagato sui dettagli pi霉 intimi della mia vita? E vuole che io non abbia avuto la tentazione di fare lo stesso? Cinque o sei volte, quasi sempre alla stessa ora, verso la fine dell鈥檌nterrogatorio, lei ha ricevuto delle telefonate che la turbavano, la mettevano a disagio. Rispondeva a monosillabi, per quanto possibile. Consultava l鈥檕rologio, assumendo un鈥檈spressione distaccata.
芦No... Fra un鈥檕ra, non prima... 猫 impossibile... S矛鈥� No... Non adesso...禄.
Una volta si 猫 lasciato sfuggire, inavvertitamente: 芦No, tesoro...禄. Ed 猫 arrossito, signor giudice. Ha guardato me, come se fossi stato l鈥檜nico che听contava. Con gli altri due, o meglio con l鈥檃vvocato Gabriel, si 猫 scusato superficialmente.芦Perdoni l鈥檌nterruzione, avvocato... Dov鈥檈ravamo rimasti?禄.
Tante cose le ho capite, e lei sa che le ho capite! Perch茅 io, vede, ho comunque un immenso vantaggio su听di lei: ho ucciso.鈥�
La lucidit脿 di Charles ci fa solidarizzare con lui, all鈥檌nizio, ma con l鈥檃vanzare della storia prevale lo sconcerto, prima, e la ripulsa, dopo, ma ormai il gioco 猫 fatto: non traggano in inganno l鈥檃mante remissiva, la moglie austera e calcolatrice, la madre avvolgente, Charles non 猫 una vittima.
A poco, a poco emerge il lato oscuro di Charles, il lato violento e incontenibile: Charles picchia Martine per 鈥�.. amore, 鈥滳redevo che non sarebbe pi霉 successo, che in me la bestia non si sarebbe svegliata mai pi霉. L鈥檃mavo, signor giudice: 猫 una parola che vorrei gridarle a squarciagola.鈥�, e dopo le chiede perdono, ma per 鈥�. amore, la uccide per preservare un鈥檌dea di purezza. Charles 猫 in balia dei suoi fantasmi che pi霉 volte spera di poter ricacciare indietro, 鈥漰resto, prestissimo sarebbe venuto il giorno in cui non avremmo pi霉 dovuto farci tante domande e in cui i fantasmi si sarebbero dileguati.鈥�
Pi霉 volte Charles ribadisce di non essere pazzo, fino alla fine 鈥漀on sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa che cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more.鈥�, con l鈥檜ltimo tentativo di tirarci dentro e a leggere ottant鈥檃nni dopo sulla pagina della 听cronaca 鈥滾a picchiava senza piet脿 per 芦educarla禄, diceva lui. Per 芦darle una lezione禄 su come si dovesse comportare.鈥� per noi valgono le parole di De Andr猫: 鈥漚nche se voi vi credete assolti, siete lo stesso coinvolti鈥�.
April 12, 2023
Il libro inizia molto in sordina, il background del protagonista 猫 quasi piatto, semplice, sono parole che sembrano quasi figlie di un narratore distaccato razionale per cui tutto sommato potresti anche provare dell'empatia. Eppure pagina dopo pagina si sprofonda davvero nelle ossessioni, dalla comparsa di Martine, i fatti, esposti sempre con apparente equilibrio diventano sempre pi霉 inquietanti fino all'epilogo. La prosa magnifica, che ti invoglia ad andare avanti senza scivolare mai nel morboso, pur facendoti capire quanto in realt脿 morbosa e tragica sia la situazione.
October 8, 2017
"Signor giudice, vorrei tanto che un uomo, un uomo solo, mi capisse. E desidererei che quell'uomo fosse lei."
Inizia cos矛 la lunga lettera, una confessione a tutti gli effetti, che Charles Alavoine, condannato per omicidio, indirizza al giudice istruttore - Ernest Com茅liau - che ha seguito la sua vicenda.
La vita anonima di un uomo, medico, viene letteralmente sconvolta da un incontro casuale. Ed 猫 amore, cos矛 all'improvviso o pian piano, non lo capisce nemmeno lui, ma 猫 finalmente "amore"; complici la pioggia, un treno perso e il tempo da passare fino al prossimo.
E scava, l'autore; scava l'animo di quest'uomo, facendogli raccontare cosa lo ha costretto a uccidere.
L'ossessione, la gelosia, la violenza... Sentimenti fino ad allora sconosciuti prendono possesso del suo cuore, del suo cervello, della sua anima, del suo corpo. Ed 猫 la fine.
Ho voluto leggere questo libro per confrontarlo con "Al mio giudice" di Alessandro Perissinotto che ne ha tratto consapevole ispirazione.
Simili eppure diversi: l'assassino di Simenon 猫 in carcere e scrive una lunga, lunghissima lettera, 猫 solo lui a "parlare", non c'猫 dialogo epistolare, non c'猫 alcun riscontro.
Perissinotto migra la storia nell'era tecnologica che viviamo, l'assassino 猫 ancora libero, ma in fuga, scambia continue mail con il suo giudice, l'amore 猫 radente, di passione non se ne parla se non forse per il lavoro del protagonista.
La fine 猫... Eh eh ... A voi leggerla/e!
In questo libro di Simenon 猫 un'altra bellissima frase, che per貌 non riporter貌 qui.
Se in Perissinotto ho fatto letteralmente il tifo per il colpevole, un uomo ben determinato e dal carattere forte, alla ricerca convulsa del perch茅 delle sue disavventure e di chi lo ha raggirato, in Simenon l'assassino, con tutta la sua consapevolezza, mi ha fatto una gran rabbia: 猫 evidente da subito la sua debolezza, il suo rasentare l'inesistenza; solo la scoperta di sentimenti forti come l'amore, la passione, la gelosia, l'ossessione lo scuotono: ma sono troppo per lui, lo invadono, lo sconvolgono e lo portano alla pazzia.
Ci貌 non toglie che anche Simenon abbia fatto presa sul mio interesse.
Quattro stelle meritatissime... 脠 che c'猫 di mezzo quella rabbia...
馃摎 Biblioteca
Inizia cos矛 la lunga lettera, una confessione a tutti gli effetti, che Charles Alavoine, condannato per omicidio, indirizza al giudice istruttore - Ernest Com茅liau - che ha seguito la sua vicenda.
La vita anonima di un uomo, medico, viene letteralmente sconvolta da un incontro casuale. Ed 猫 amore, cos矛 all'improvviso o pian piano, non lo capisce nemmeno lui, ma 猫 finalmente "amore"; complici la pioggia, un treno perso e il tempo da passare fino al prossimo.
E scava, l'autore; scava l'animo di quest'uomo, facendogli raccontare cosa lo ha costretto a uccidere.
L'ossessione, la gelosia, la violenza... Sentimenti fino ad allora sconosciuti prendono possesso del suo cuore, del suo cervello, della sua anima, del suo corpo. Ed 猫 la fine.
Ho voluto leggere questo libro per confrontarlo con "Al mio giudice" di Alessandro Perissinotto che ne ha tratto consapevole ispirazione.
Simili eppure diversi: l'assassino di Simenon 猫 in carcere e scrive una lunga, lunghissima lettera, 猫 solo lui a "parlare", non c'猫 dialogo epistolare, non c'猫 alcun riscontro.
Perissinotto migra la storia nell'era tecnologica che viviamo, l'assassino 猫 ancora libero, ma in fuga, scambia continue mail con il suo giudice, l'amore 猫 radente, di passione non se ne parla se non forse per il lavoro del protagonista.
La fine 猫... Eh eh ... A voi leggerla/e!
In questo libro di Simenon 猫 un'altra bellissima frase, che per貌 non riporter貌 qui.
Se in Perissinotto ho fatto letteralmente il tifo per il colpevole, un uomo ben determinato e dal carattere forte, alla ricerca convulsa del perch茅 delle sue disavventure e di chi lo ha raggirato, in Simenon l'assassino, con tutta la sua consapevolezza, mi ha fatto una gran rabbia: 猫 evidente da subito la sua debolezza, il suo rasentare l'inesistenza; solo la scoperta di sentimenti forti come l'amore, la passione, la gelosia, l'ossessione lo scuotono: ma sono troppo per lui, lo invadono, lo sconvolgono e lo portano alla pazzia.
Ci貌 non toglie che anche Simenon abbia fatto presa sul mio interesse.
Quattro stelle meritatissime... 脠 che c'猫 di mezzo quella rabbia...
馃摎 Biblioteca
March 1, 2015
Charles Alavoine, medico di provincia, 猫 finito in carcere per un omicidio, nulla pi霉 sappiamo all鈥檌nizio del libro. Dal carcere intesse un lungo monologo diretto al giudice istruttore, non per cercare attenuanti, n茅 per passare per pazzo, ma per spiegare che l鈥檃tto da lui commesso 猫 stato compiuto con piena capacit脿 di intendere e di volere. Per arrivare a questo Charles racconta la sua intera esistenza fino a quel momento all鈥檜nico essere che pu貌 comprenderlo, forse l鈥檜nico amico, il 鈥渟uo鈥� giudice. Il delitto lo scopriamo soltanto nel finale (anche se lo immaginiamo da prima), ma Charles lo capiamo man mano che si racconta. Un uomo senza ombra, si definisce: la sua vita 猫 scandita da regole scontate e immodificabili, si deve laureare, si deve sposare, deve avere una famiglia, tutto ci貌 che 鈥渄eve鈥� essere fatto lui lo fa, per far contenti gli altri, sua madre, le sue due mogli 鈥搇a prima muore giovanissima, e Armande, la seconda moglie, entrer脿 in famiglia quasi per caso e la gestir脿 con perfezione maniacale, quale moglie, madre, arredatrice, amministratrice-. Insomma, Charles vive una vita insignificante decisa da altri. Fino a quando non incontra Martine, una ragazza in un certo senso come lui, che ha vissuto la giovinezza da sola, ha accettato tanti uomini 鈥渄i passaggio鈥� nella sua strada senza ribellarsi, ed ora accetta anche Charles. Ma l鈥檃more 鈥揷os矛 lui lo definisce- tra i due diventa una passione inestricabile, un legame cos矛 forte che lui vuole portare una Martine pura e ripulita dal suo passato dentro di s茅, affinch猫 nessuno possa portargliela pi霉 via.
Un uomo senza ombra che grazie al sentimento assoluto e totale riacquista la sua ombra, che lo aiuter脿 a liberarsi delle ombre del passato di Martine nell鈥檜nico modo possibile, il delitto.
鈥淣on sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more鈥�.
Un romanzo profondo e bellissimo.
Un uomo senza ombra che grazie al sentimento assoluto e totale riacquista la sua ombra, che lo aiuter脿 a liberarsi delle ombre del passato di Martine nell鈥檜nico modo possibile, il delitto.
鈥淣on sono pazzo. Sono soltanto un uomo, un uomo come gli altri, ma un uomo che ha amato e sa cos鈥櫭� l鈥檃more鈥�.
Un romanzo profondo e bellissimo.
November 30, 2011
if that's love, i never want to experience it.
June 8, 2022
螆谓伪蟼 维谓蟿蟻伪蟼 -喂伪蟿蟻蠈蟼 蟽蟿慰 蔚蟺维纬纬蔚位渭伪- 魏伪蟿伪未喂魏维蟽蟿畏魏蔚 蟽蔚 蠁蠀位维魏喂蟽畏 魏伪胃蠋蟼 未喂苇蟺蟻伪尉蔚 蠁蠈谓慰. 螝伪胃鈥� 蠈位畏 蟿畏谓 未喂维蟻魏蔚喂伪 蟿畏蟼 未委魏畏蟼 苇谓喂蠅蟽蔚 蟺蠅蟼 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬萎胃畏魏蔚 苇谓伪蟼 喂未喂伪委蟿蔚蟻慰蟼 未蔚蟽渭蠈蟼 渭蔚蟿伪尉蠉 蔚魏蔚委谓慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎. 螣蟺蠈蟿蔚 蟿慰蠀 纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 苇谓伪 纬蟻维渭渭伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿喂蟼 蠁蠀位伪魏苇蟼. 螌蠂喂 纬喂伪 谓伪 蟿慰谓 伪胃蠅蠋蟽慰蠀谓. 螖蔚谓 蔚蟺喂胃蠀渭蔚委 魏维蟿喂 蟿苇蟿慰喂慰. 螘蟺喂胃蠀渭蔚委 魏维蟺慰喂慰谓 谓伪 蟿慰谓 魏伪蟿伪位维尾蔚喂.
螤蟻蠋蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 蟿慰蠀 Simenon 蟺慰蠀 未喂伪尾维味蠅 魏伪喂 慰渭慰位慰纬蠋 蟺蠅蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 蟺蔚蟻委蟺慰蠀 蟿畏 渭苇蟽畏 萎蟿伪谓 蟺慰位蠉 蔚蠀蠂维蟻喂蟽蟿慰. 螕蔚位慰蠉蟽伪, 渭慰蠀 蔚委蠂蔚 魏蔚谓蟿蟻委蟽蔚喂 蟿慰 蔚谓未喂伪蠁苇蟻慰谓 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻喂苇蟻纬蔚喂伪 魏伪胃蠋蟼 未蔚谓 纬谓蠅蟻委味伪渭蔚 蟺慰喂蠈谓 蔚委蠂蔚 慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿萎蟼 蟽魏慰蟿蠋蟽蔚喂.
螚 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 Simenon 蠀蟺苇蟻慰蠂畏! 螒蟺蠈位伪蠀蟽伪 蟿畏谓 蟺蟻蠅蟿慰蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺畏 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪位伪尾伪委谓蠅 纬喂伪蟿委 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺苇位蔚尉蔚. 螌渭蠅蟼 谓伪 蟺蠅 魏维蟿喂 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈! 韦慰 尾喂尾位委慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 纬喂伪 蠈位慰蠀蟼. 螖蔚谓 萎蟿伪谓 慰蠉蟿蔚 纬喂伪 蔚渭苇谓伪 魏伪胃蠋蟼 渭喂位维渭蔚 纬喂伪 蟿蔚蟻维蟽蟿喂伪 trigger warnings 魏伪魏慰蟺慰委畏蟽畏蟼.
螤蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏维 慰喂 渭蠈谓慰喂 位蠈纬慰喂 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺慰蟻蠋 谓伪 蟽魏蔚蠁蟿蠋 谓伪 蟿慰 未喂伪尾维蟽蔚喂 蟿蔚位喂魏维 魏维蟺慰喂慰蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 蠋蟽蟿蔚 谓伪 蔚魏蟿喂渭萎蟽蔚喂 蟿畏谓 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟺慰蠀 蟺维谓蟿伪 魏蟻伪蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏, 蟿喂蟼 魏维蟺慰喂蔚蟼 蠈渭慰蟻蠁蔚蟼 蟺蟻慰蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼 魏位蟺 伪位位维 魏蠀蟻委蠅蟼, 蠅蟼 蔚纬蠂蔚喂蟻委未喂慰 蟿喂 谓伪 蟺蟻慰蟽苇蠂慰蠀渭蔚 蔚渭蔚委蟼 慰喂 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼 蠈蟿伪谓 尉蔚魏喂谓维渭蔚 渭委伪 蟽蠂苇蟽畏. 螘委谓伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟿慰 蟺蠅蟼 慰喂 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼 渭喂伪 味蠅萎 (蟿慰 1946 蔚魏未蠈胃畏魏蔚 伪蟻蠂喂魏维 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰) 蠁慰尾蠈谓蟿慰蠀蟽伪谓 蟿慰谓 维谓蟿蟻伪 渭伪 蠀蟺苇渭蔚谓伪谓 蟽蔚 魏伪魏慰蟺慰喂畏蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟽蠂苇蟽蔚喂蟼. 螠喂位维渭蔚 纬喂伪 伪魏蟻伪委蔚蟼 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼. 螖蠀蟽魏慰位蔚蠉蟿畏魏伪 蟺慰位蠉 谓伪 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委蟽蠅 谓伪 未喂伪尾维味蠅.
螝伪喂 伪蠀蟿蠈 蔚委谓伪喂 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈尾位畏渭伪. 螌蟿伪谓 魏维蟺慰喂慰蟼 胃蔚蠅蟻蔚委 蟿慰谓 维位位慰谓 喂未喂慰魏蟿畏蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟺喂蟽蟿蔚蠉蔚喂 蟺蠅蟼 苇蠂蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 未喂魏伪委蠅渭伪 谓伪 蟿慰蠀 魏维谓蔚喂 慰蟺慰喂慰未萎蟺慰蟿蔚 魏伪魏蠈. 韦慰 魏维谓慰蠀渭蔚 伪蠀蟿蠈 慰喂 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂 蟽蔚 蠂伪渭畏位蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏维 蟽蟿蟻蠋渭伪蟿伪, 蟽蔚 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼, 蟽蔚 味蠋伪 魏位蟺... 韦伪 蟺蟻维纬渭伪蟿伪 蔚委谓伪喂 位委纬慰 魏伪位蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰 1946, 伪位位维 胃苇位慰蠀渭蔚 伪蟻魏蔚蟿萎 未慰蠀位蔚喂维 伪魏蠈渭伪.
韦苇位慰蟼 胃伪 魏维谓蠅 苇谓伪 渭喂魏蟻蠈 spoiler 伪位位维 蟺伪喂未喂维 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 纬喂伪 苇谓伪 蔚魏蟿蠈蟼 慰蟻委蠅谓 魏伪喂 蔚位苇纬蠂慰蠀 蟺维胃慰蟼 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈. 蟺慰蠀 纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀. 螘委谓伪喂 螕违螡螒螜螝螣螝韦螣螡螜螒.
螒蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 蟽蠀谓伪委蟽胃畏渭伪 胃苇位蠅 谓伪 蟽伪蟼 蔚尉畏纬萎蟽蠅, 蠈渭蠅蟼 伪谓蟿喂位伪渭尾维谓慰渭伪喂 蠈蟿喂 蟺蟻蠈魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 魏维蟿喂 蟺慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 伪未蠉谓伪蟿慰谓. 螤蠈蟽慰 蟺喂慰 蔚蠉魏慰位慰 胃伪 萎蟿伪谓 伪谓 蔚委蠂伪蟿蔚 蟽魏慰蟿蠋蟽蔚喂 魏伪喂 蔚蟽蔚委蟼!
螤蟻蠋蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 蟿慰蠀 Simenon 蟺慰蠀 未喂伪尾维味蠅 魏伪喂 慰渭慰位慰纬蠋 蟺蠅蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 蟺蔚蟻委蟺慰蠀 蟿畏 渭苇蟽畏 萎蟿伪谓 蟺慰位蠉 蔚蠀蠂维蟻喂蟽蟿慰. 螕蔚位慰蠉蟽伪, 渭慰蠀 蔚委蠂蔚 魏蔚谓蟿蟻委蟽蔚喂 蟿慰 蔚谓未喂伪蠁苇蟻慰谓 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻喂苇蟻纬蔚喂伪 魏伪胃蠋蟼 未蔚谓 纬谓蠅蟻委味伪渭蔚 蟺慰喂蠈谓 蔚委蠂蔚 慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿萎蟼 蟽魏慰蟿蠋蟽蔚喂.
螒谓 渭蔚 蟻蠅蟿慰蠉蟽伪谓 蟽萎渭蔚蟻伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿喂 伪谓伪纬谓蠅蟻委味蔚喂 魏伪谓蔚委蟼 蟿畏谓 伪纬维蟺畏, 伪谓 苇蟺蟻蔚蟺蔚 谓伪 魏维谓蠅 渭委伪 未喂维纬谓蠅蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪纬维蟺畏蟼, 胃伪 苇位蔚纬伪 鈥溝€蟻蠋蟿伪 畏 伪谓维纬魏畏 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪蟻慰蠀蟽委伪蟼. 螆蟺蔚喂蟿伪 畏 未委蠄伪 谓伪 纬委谓蔚喂蟼 魏伪蟿伪谓慰畏蟿蠈蟼鈥�.
螚 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 Simenon 蠀蟺苇蟻慰蠂畏! 螒蟺蠈位伪蠀蟽伪 蟿畏谓 蟺蟻蠅蟿慰蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺畏 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪位伪尾伪委谓蠅 纬喂伪蟿委 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺苇位蔚尉蔚. 螌渭蠅蟼 谓伪 蟺蠅 魏维蟿喂 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈! 韦慰 尾喂尾位委慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 纬喂伪 蠈位慰蠀蟼. 螖蔚谓 萎蟿伪谓 慰蠉蟿蔚 纬喂伪 蔚渭苇谓伪 魏伪胃蠋蟼 渭喂位维渭蔚 纬喂伪 蟿蔚蟻维蟽蟿喂伪 trigger warnings 魏伪魏慰蟺慰委畏蟽畏蟼.
螤蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏维 慰喂 渭蠈谓慰喂 位蠈纬慰喂 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺慰蟻蠋 谓伪 蟽魏蔚蠁蟿蠋 谓伪 蟿慰 未喂伪尾维蟽蔚喂 蟿蔚位喂魏维 魏维蟺慰喂慰蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 蠋蟽蟿蔚 谓伪 蔚魏蟿喂渭萎蟽蔚喂 蟿畏谓 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟺慰蠀 蟺维谓蟿伪 魏蟻伪蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏, 蟿喂蟼 魏维蟺慰喂蔚蟼 蠈渭慰蟻蠁蔚蟼 蟺蟻慰蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼 魏位蟺 伪位位维 魏蠀蟻委蠅蟼, 蠅蟼 蔚纬蠂蔚喂蟻委未喂慰 蟿喂 谓伪 蟺蟻慰蟽苇蠂慰蠀渭蔚 蔚渭蔚委蟼 慰喂 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼 蠈蟿伪谓 尉蔚魏喂谓维渭蔚 渭委伪 蟽蠂苇蟽畏. 螘委谓伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟿慰 蟺蠅蟼 慰喂 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼 渭喂伪 味蠅萎 (蟿慰 1946 蔚魏未蠈胃畏魏蔚 伪蟻蠂喂魏维 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰) 蠁慰尾蠈谓蟿慰蠀蟽伪谓 蟿慰谓 维谓蟿蟻伪 渭伪 蠀蟺苇渭蔚谓伪谓 蟽蔚 魏伪魏慰蟺慰喂畏蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟽蠂苇蟽蔚喂蟼. 螠喂位维渭蔚 纬喂伪 伪魏蟻伪委蔚蟼 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼. 螖蠀蟽魏慰位蔚蠉蟿畏魏伪 蟺慰位蠉 谓伪 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委蟽蠅 谓伪 未喂伪尾维味蠅.
...螒蠀蟿萎 伪纬维蟺畏蟽伪 魏伪喂 伪纬伪蟺蠋 魏伪喂 蔚委谓伪喂 未喂魏萎 渭慰蠀, 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 蟽蔚 蟿苇蟿慰喂慰 蟽畏渭蔚委慰 魏慰渭渭维蟿喂 蟿慰蠀 蔚伪蠀蟿慰蠉 渭慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 尉蔚蠂蠅蟻委味蠅 蟺位苇慰谓 蟿伪 蠈蟻喂维 渭伪蟼.
螝伪喂 伪蠀蟿蠈 蔚委谓伪喂 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈尾位畏渭伪. 螌蟿伪谓 魏维蟺慰喂慰蟼 胃蔚蠅蟻蔚委 蟿慰谓 维位位慰谓 喂未喂慰魏蟿畏蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟺喂蟽蟿蔚蠉蔚喂 蟺蠅蟼 苇蠂蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 未喂魏伪委蠅渭伪 谓伪 蟿慰蠀 魏维谓蔚喂 慰蟺慰喂慰未萎蟺慰蟿蔚 魏伪魏蠈. 韦慰 魏维谓慰蠀渭蔚 伪蠀蟿蠈 慰喂 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂 蟽蔚 蠂伪渭畏位蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏维 蟽蟿蟻蠋渭伪蟿伪, 蟽蔚 纬蠀谓伪委魏蔚蟼, 蟽蔚 味蠋伪 魏位蟺... 韦伪 蟺蟻维纬渭伪蟿伪 蔚委谓伪喂 位委纬慰 魏伪位蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰 1946, 伪位位维 胃苇位慰蠀渭蔚 伪蟻魏蔚蟿萎 未慰蠀位蔚喂维 伪魏蠈渭伪.
韦苇位慰蟼 胃伪 魏维谓蠅 苇谓伪 渭喂魏蟻蠈 spoiler 伪位位维 蟺伪喂未喂维 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 纬喂伪 苇谓伪 蔚魏蟿蠈蟼 慰蟻委蠅谓 魏伪喂 蔚位苇纬蠂慰蠀 蟺维胃慰蟼 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈. 蟺慰蠀 纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀. 螘委谓伪喂 螕违螡螒螜螝螣螝韦螣螡螜螒.
January 10, 2023
Un modesto medico di campagna.
Una vita incanalata e ordinaria.
Un padre vizioso e morto suicida durante la sua adolescenza.
Una madre possessiva che nutre grandi aspettative sul figlio, che avrebbe preferito prete, e che lo accompagner脿 per tutta la sua vita.
Acquiescente, fedifrago, bugiardo, vile e debole.
Un secondo matrimonio infelice con una donna "squisita" che sapr脿 farlo sentire sempre inferiore. Inquietudine e insoddisfazione che montano all'inverosimile fino a diventare un malessere costante, fino a trovarsi senza la propria ombra non riconoscendo pi霉 se stesso.
Una trasformazione lenta e inesorabile senza un preciso evento scatenante: solo una somma di fattori.
E poi un viaggio di ritorno da Nantes che lo porter脿 fino a Martine, la ragazza con le valigie, che diverr脿 la sua amante e con la quale vivr脿 una passione sfrenata che porter脿 alla superficie la personalit脿 malata che alberga nel narratore e che gli far脿 credere di avere finalmente il libero arbitrio.
La genesi di un femminicidio annunciato. Dietro la facciata perbenista un prevaricatore possessivo.
E poi l'epilogo, suggerito e inevitabile.
Charles Alavoine: "Un delinquente occasionale", redige la sua lettera testimonianza e la indirizza al giudice che lo ha condannato.
Sicuramente un altro bel romanzo di Simenon, spietato e fortemente introspettivo.
Tutto 猫 mostrato, senza falso pudore n茅 ipocrisia.
Una vita incanalata e ordinaria.
Un padre vizioso e morto suicida durante la sua adolescenza.
Una madre possessiva che nutre grandi aspettative sul figlio, che avrebbe preferito prete, e che lo accompagner脿 per tutta la sua vita.
Acquiescente, fedifrago, bugiardo, vile e debole.
Un secondo matrimonio infelice con una donna "squisita" che sapr脿 farlo sentire sempre inferiore. Inquietudine e insoddisfazione che montano all'inverosimile fino a diventare un malessere costante, fino a trovarsi senza la propria ombra non riconoscendo pi霉 se stesso.
Una trasformazione lenta e inesorabile senza un preciso evento scatenante: solo una somma di fattori.
E poi un viaggio di ritorno da Nantes che lo porter脿 fino a Martine, la ragazza con le valigie, che diverr脿 la sua amante e con la quale vivr脿 una passione sfrenata che porter脿 alla superficie la personalit脿 malata che alberga nel narratore e che gli far脿 credere di avere finalmente il libero arbitrio.
La genesi di un femminicidio annunciato. Dietro la facciata perbenista un prevaricatore possessivo.
E poi l'epilogo, suggerito e inevitabile.
Charles Alavoine: "Un delinquente occasionale", redige la sua lettera testimonianza e la indirizza al giudice che lo ha condannato.
Sicuramente un altro bel romanzo di Simenon, spietato e fortemente introspettivo.
Tutto 猫 mostrato, senza falso pudore n茅 ipocrisia.
October 17, 2024
Niente io bimba di Simenon
January 20, 2025
Un Simenon inaspettato, diverso da quelli che avevo gi脿 letto. Questo 猫 molto introspettivo e psicologico, dall'inizio alla fine. Si tratta di uno sfogo in prima persona che il protagonista rivolge, attraverso una lunga lettera, al giudice istruttore nominato nel processo a suo carico. Charles Alavoine si trova infatti nella cella di un carcere, dopo avere ucciso, apparentemente senza motivo, la sua amante, come si scopre gi脿 dalle prime pagine. Quello che si scopre dopo 猫 invece il travaglio interiore che aveva preceduto il delitto. Naturalmente dal punto di vista del protagonista, dell'uomo.
Probabilmente oggi l'editoria sarebbe stata pi霉 guardinga, ma nel 1947, data di pubblicazione del romanzo, la cultura sociale accettava certi atteggiamenti maschili di possesso sulla donna.
Dunque ci appare la storia di un uomo che combatte con i propri fantasmi, coi ricordi di un passato di sottomissioni e rinunce. Un uomo che si definisce "senza ombra", senza sicurezze. Un uomo che si sente in gabbia e che aspira a liberarsi.
Bravo Simenon a mantenere l'attenzione del lettore per tutta la lunga lettera, esplorando la psiche umana per restituirci con maestria il vuoto provato da una mente tormentata e malata, lasciando comunque libert脿 di giudizio al lettore.
Probabilmente oggi l'editoria sarebbe stata pi霉 guardinga, ma nel 1947, data di pubblicazione del romanzo, la cultura sociale accettava certi atteggiamenti maschili di possesso sulla donna.
Dunque ci appare la storia di un uomo che combatte con i propri fantasmi, coi ricordi di un passato di sottomissioni e rinunce. Un uomo che si definisce "senza ombra", senza sicurezze. Un uomo che si sente in gabbia e che aspira a liberarsi.
Bravo Simenon a mantenere l'attenzione del lettore per tutta la lunga lettera, esplorando la psiche umana per restituirci con maestria il vuoto provato da una mente tormentata e malata, lasciando comunque libert脿 di giudizio al lettore.
July 21, 2024
honestly, this one is such a unique piece. if you鈥檙e into psychological dramas that peel back the layers of human emotion and delve into the darker sides of love and obsession, then this book is right up your alley. i鈥檇 say it鈥檚 a solid 4.5 out of 5 for its depth and intense character study. simenon鈥檚 writing is compelling and his ability to make you empathize with such a flawed character is pretty impressive. plus it鈥檚 always refreshing to read something that challenges your moral perspective
December 24, 2021
A unique (for Simenon) 1st person, epistolary novel about an obsessive, highly neurotic love affair. Fairly effective
May 21, 2018
Bene. A meno che non si tratti di gialli Simenon entra di diritto tra i miei autori preferiti!
La lettura di questo libro 猫 arrivata subito dopo Lolita e, a quanto pare, ho perci貌 il periodo degli amori disturbati! 馃槉
In entrambi i casi si tratta di uomini di una certa cultura, probabilmente annoiati dalla vita, che cercano emozioni estreme. Sono pagine ansiogene e andare avanti pagina dopo pagina non 猫 sempre stato facile, perch茅 la tensione sale e s鈥檌ntravede la conclusione drammatica.
Meraviglioso.
La lettura di questo libro 猫 arrivata subito dopo Lolita e, a quanto pare, ho perci貌 il periodo degli amori disturbati! 馃槉
In entrambi i casi si tratta di uomini di una certa cultura, probabilmente annoiati dalla vita, che cercano emozioni estreme. Sono pagine ansiogene e andare avanti pagina dopo pagina non 猫 sempre stato facile, perch茅 la tensione sale e s鈥檌ntravede la conclusione drammatica.
Meraviglioso.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 1, 2013
For the longest time this story comes across as the dire drama familiar to every noir narrative-- desperate characters, pushed beyond their limits, in a place where the ground-rules are unreliable or non-existent.
But Simenon has a more convoluted plan here. For most of the telling, there is uncertainty about the murder, but not who has committed it-- rather, the circumstances and the victim are held in question late into the game. And that is because we are in the hands of a skillful and devious narrator. It's an inversion of the old, twisted idea of getting the reader inside the mind of the villain; tempting the reader to identify with a character by providing the voicing, the perspective, of only that character, on every page.
Now I found myself in the station beside a young woman I didn't know, and whom I had barely even looked at. We were the only persons at the baggage counter, in the middle of a vast empty space. The attendant thought we were together. If it hadn't been for that enveloping space, which gave us a false air of solidarity, I should probably have walked away with as much nonchalance as I could muster.
I didn't quite dare. I noticed that she was cold, that she was wearing a dark tailored suit, very chic, but much too light for the season .. She looked pale under her make-up. She shivered again and said:
"I'm going to get something to drink to warm me up..."
A chance encounter on a train platform, just seconds too late to catch a commuter run in the evening, allows a married doctor and a dislocated Parisian woman a few moments of escape, at a nearby 'american bar'...
...we crossed the square together in the downpour, avoiding cars, hunching our shoulders, hastening our steps.
"Wait a minute; I arrived from this direction, didn't I?... Then it's on the left... near the corner of a street... There's a big sign in green lights..."
I was not familiar with the bar she took me to, which was new: a narrow room, dimly lighted, with dark woodwork and high stools in front of the bar. It was the kind of place which did not yet exist in the provinces when I was a student, and I have never quite got used to them.
"Barman, a martini, please..."
From Poe's Tell-Tale Heart to Burgess' Clockwork Orange there have been horrific versions of this genre, and what Simenon has wrought in Act Of Passion is no slouch. He shares Poe's rueful, sorrowful outlook-- to convince and never distance, to reason and explain, in conversation at least... Distasteful, abominable, repellent, but as with other famous monsters of the literary page, gently told via beginnings that are banal, perfectly commonplace. And once encountered, impossible to stop watching till the end.
Overall, this is a complex construction, and it's difficult to lay out all the threads here; but there is the distinct impression that the author is writing in blood. Maybe it's safest to say that yes, the threads join up in the finish, in a really brutal, theater-of-cruelty kind of burn-all-bridges clash.
Compelling, and offensive.
But Simenon has a more convoluted plan here. For most of the telling, there is uncertainty about the murder, but not who has committed it-- rather, the circumstances and the victim are held in question late into the game. And that is because we are in the hands of a skillful and devious narrator. It's an inversion of the old, twisted idea of getting the reader inside the mind of the villain; tempting the reader to identify with a character by providing the voicing, the perspective, of only that character, on every page.
Now I found myself in the station beside a young woman I didn't know, and whom I had barely even looked at. We were the only persons at the baggage counter, in the middle of a vast empty space. The attendant thought we were together. If it hadn't been for that enveloping space, which gave us a false air of solidarity, I should probably have walked away with as much nonchalance as I could muster.
I didn't quite dare. I noticed that she was cold, that she was wearing a dark tailored suit, very chic, but much too light for the season .. She looked pale under her make-up. She shivered again and said:
"I'm going to get something to drink to warm me up..."
A chance encounter on a train platform, just seconds too late to catch a commuter run in the evening, allows a married doctor and a dislocated Parisian woman a few moments of escape, at a nearby 'american bar'...
...we crossed the square together in the downpour, avoiding cars, hunching our shoulders, hastening our steps.
"Wait a minute; I arrived from this direction, didn't I?... Then it's on the left... near the corner of a street... There's a big sign in green lights..."
I was not familiar with the bar she took me to, which was new: a narrow room, dimly lighted, with dark woodwork and high stools in front of the bar. It was the kind of place which did not yet exist in the provinces when I was a student, and I have never quite got used to them.
"Barman, a martini, please..."
From Poe's Tell-Tale Heart to Burgess' Clockwork Orange there have been horrific versions of this genre, and what Simenon has wrought in Act Of Passion is no slouch. He shares Poe's rueful, sorrowful outlook-- to convince and never distance, to reason and explain, in conversation at least... Distasteful, abominable, repellent, but as with other famous monsters of the literary page, gently told via beginnings that are banal, perfectly commonplace. And once encountered, impossible to stop watching till the end.
Overall, this is a complex construction, and it's difficult to lay out all the threads here; but there is the distinct impression that the author is writing in blood. Maybe it's safest to say that yes, the threads join up in the finish, in a really brutal, theater-of-cruelty kind of burn-all-bridges clash.
Compelling, and offensive.
December 17, 2020
From the very first page, we know who the killer is; we know that he鈥檒l be captured, found guilty and sentenced to prison; but we don鈥檛 know who his victim is.
Georges Simenon鈥檚 novel Acts of Passion takes the form of a long letter, written by a killer to the judge who sentenced him. The killer wants to explain why he did what he did; he wants someone to understand his actions, to see him as reasonable in spite of it all. The judge knows who he killed, of course, so there鈥檚 no reason for him to mention the murder until he has to. This is what gives Act of Passion its narrative tension, a tension the reader feels almost at once.
The killer begins with the first days of his marriage. Did he kill his wife? It seems like a good marriage, though there are hints of trouble to come. A mother-in-law who is around much too often. Does he kill her? After several years together, the killer takes a much younger mistress. Will she be his victim? He manages to introduce the young woman to his wife and to convince his wife that she is alone in the world and in need of help. His wife agrees to let the girl live in their spare bedroom.
This certainly can鈥檛 end well.
In his introduction Roger Ebert explains that Simenon deliberately wrote without style; that whenever he encountered a particularly literary turn of phrase in his writing, Simenon edited it out. The result is some of the most spare writing you鈥檒l find, even in a crime novel. I imagine that while writing Acts of Passion whenever Simenon came across a passage that built up suspense he took it away as well. He never tries to make this novel a page turner. His killer is not hiding the truth from the reader just to keep the reader reading. He鈥檚 telling his story to the judge, trying to explain his actions, not to justify them but to make them understandable. He鈥檚 not trying to tell a suspenseful yarn, but yet he does and that is the sheer genius of it all.
Acts of Passion has obvious links to Dostoevsky鈥檚 Crime and Punishment. Both deal with a man who comes to kill and is then haunted by the act. If you were to say that Simenon is not in Dostoevsky鈥檚 league, I would agree of course, but I think you may be structuring the comparison incorrectly. It鈥檚 not that he鈥檚 in a different league, it鈥檚 that he鈥檚 playing a different game in the first place. Dostoevsky鈥檚 wonderful novel is concerned with higher philosophical issues. The crime in Simenon鈥檚 novel is based on passion alone. The killer cannot bring the judge or the reader to understand his actions in the end because we have not shared his passion. Dostoevsky鈥檚 hero becomes mad as his story progresses. Simenon鈥檚 killer is mad from the outset. So much, that he seeks understanding is a sign of his own madness. He鈥檚 similar to the narrator of Edgar Allen Poe鈥檚 鈥淭ell-Tale Heart鈥� who keeps insisting he is not mad right up until the end.
All of this makes Act of Passion an anti-thriller thriller. Without using any of the typical tropes one finds in thrillers, without overtly forcing suspense on the narrative, Simenon keeps the reader turning pages caught up in the story in spite of it all.
Georges Simenon鈥檚 novel Acts of Passion takes the form of a long letter, written by a killer to the judge who sentenced him. The killer wants to explain why he did what he did; he wants someone to understand his actions, to see him as reasonable in spite of it all. The judge knows who he killed, of course, so there鈥檚 no reason for him to mention the murder until he has to. This is what gives Act of Passion its narrative tension, a tension the reader feels almost at once.
The killer begins with the first days of his marriage. Did he kill his wife? It seems like a good marriage, though there are hints of trouble to come. A mother-in-law who is around much too often. Does he kill her? After several years together, the killer takes a much younger mistress. Will she be his victim? He manages to introduce the young woman to his wife and to convince his wife that she is alone in the world and in need of help. His wife agrees to let the girl live in their spare bedroom.
This certainly can鈥檛 end well.
In his introduction Roger Ebert explains that Simenon deliberately wrote without style; that whenever he encountered a particularly literary turn of phrase in his writing, Simenon edited it out. The result is some of the most spare writing you鈥檒l find, even in a crime novel. I imagine that while writing Acts of Passion whenever Simenon came across a passage that built up suspense he took it away as well. He never tries to make this novel a page turner. His killer is not hiding the truth from the reader just to keep the reader reading. He鈥檚 telling his story to the judge, trying to explain his actions, not to justify them but to make them understandable. He鈥檚 not trying to tell a suspenseful yarn, but yet he does and that is the sheer genius of it all.
Acts of Passion has obvious links to Dostoevsky鈥檚 Crime and Punishment. Both deal with a man who comes to kill and is then haunted by the act. If you were to say that Simenon is not in Dostoevsky鈥檚 league, I would agree of course, but I think you may be structuring the comparison incorrectly. It鈥檚 not that he鈥檚 in a different league, it鈥檚 that he鈥檚 playing a different game in the first place. Dostoevsky鈥檚 wonderful novel is concerned with higher philosophical issues. The crime in Simenon鈥檚 novel is based on passion alone. The killer cannot bring the judge or the reader to understand his actions in the end because we have not shared his passion. Dostoevsky鈥檚 hero becomes mad as his story progresses. Simenon鈥檚 killer is mad from the outset. So much, that he seeks understanding is a sign of his own madness. He鈥檚 similar to the narrator of Edgar Allen Poe鈥檚 鈥淭ell-Tale Heart鈥� who keeps insisting he is not mad right up until the end.
All of this makes Act of Passion an anti-thriller thriller. Without using any of the typical tropes one finds in thrillers, without overtly forcing suspense on the narrative, Simenon keeps the reader turning pages caught up in the story in spite of it all.
November 2, 2011
One understands why Simenon called them "roman durs," what could be more bleak than a love story when the highest level of love is murder.
This is a pretty full novel. It has a bit of the Camus-like existentialism in it, with a man questioning society and his role in it, and ultimately opting out--and of course the final rejection of society is murder. It also has a lot of psychological exploration going on; Alavoine's confession to the magistrate, the whole book, is like a one-way session going on, and Alavoine is not only analyzing his own motives (hence a perhaps unreliable narrator: particularly the killing, or suicide?) but everyone around him. He analyzes the magistrate's own desires, implying that we all want to reject society if we could, his wife, mother, lover, fellow-prisoners, and every single person around (except for the very absent children). There is some interesting narrative devices here too, it is all in first-person narrative. The first person narrative combined with the psychology (and Martine's trauma) aimed at each character can be strange at points. It does, as mentioned above, bring in questions of reliability. I also really enjoyed Roger Ebert's point about fetishism in the introduction. That seemed to make sense to me, as did his praise of Simenon's descriptive powers and forceful, fluid writing style.
All in all, a very good book. A bit strange in places, I couldn't really understand how Alavoine falls so desperately in love with someone he barely knows, and he doesn't seem like a character that is much into love anyway, but for a good part of the book he is in middle of a teenage-girl obsession (sorry teenage girls, don't kill your boyfriends, at least if they behave relatively well). I did like it a lot though. And it does show that he is a master of a genre-writing, but also very good at getting through a large range of subjects in a novel.
This is a pretty full novel. It has a bit of the Camus-like existentialism in it, with a man questioning society and his role in it, and ultimately opting out--and of course the final rejection of society is murder. It also has a lot of psychological exploration going on; Alavoine's confession to the magistrate, the whole book, is like a one-way session going on, and Alavoine is not only analyzing his own motives (hence a perhaps unreliable narrator: particularly the killing, or suicide?) but everyone around him. He analyzes the magistrate's own desires, implying that we all want to reject society if we could, his wife, mother, lover, fellow-prisoners, and every single person around (except for the very absent children). There is some interesting narrative devices here too, it is all in first-person narrative. The first person narrative combined with the psychology (and Martine's trauma) aimed at each character can be strange at points. It does, as mentioned above, bring in questions of reliability. I also really enjoyed Roger Ebert's point about fetishism in the introduction. That seemed to make sense to me, as did his praise of Simenon's descriptive powers and forceful, fluid writing style.
All in all, a very good book. A bit strange in places, I couldn't really understand how Alavoine falls so desperately in love with someone he barely knows, and he doesn't seem like a character that is much into love anyway, but for a good part of the book he is in middle of a teenage-girl obsession (sorry teenage girls, don't kill your boyfriends, at least if they behave relatively well). I did like it a lot though. And it does show that he is a master of a genre-writing, but also very good at getting through a large range of subjects in a novel.
December 12, 2020
This is a dangerous book for married men. In this murder confession, Charles explains in detail why he is not a psycho 鈥� why he ditched his family and medical practice for a submissive tramp. Simenon makes Charles' brutalities seem so innocent and fulfilling.
For the 1953 Signet paperback, the title was fittingly changed from the original drab Letter to My Judge. But my liver is not accustomed to so much Frenchy passion. I felt like a gavage-fattened goose.
For the 1953 Signet paperback, the title was fittingly changed from the original drab Letter to My Judge. But my liver is not accustomed to so much Frenchy passion. I felt like a gavage-fattened goose.
August 23, 2021
Difficile dare stelle in questo caso.
La storia mi 猫 piaciuta molto ma non la lettura di Massimo Popolizio
La storia mi 猫 piaciuta molto ma non la lettura di Massimo Popolizio
October 22, 2024
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September 25, 2021
Magnifico! Un Simenon diverso dal solito, per貌 Simenon non mi delude praticamente mai. La sua lettura delle personalit脿 dei diversi personaggi 猫 ogni volta magistrale. L'ho scritto molte volte, Simenon crea protagonisti umani ed indimenticabili.
Utilizzando la formula della prima persona sono mancati i suoi ritmi e le sue classiche descrizioni che riuscivano a creare le splendide ambientazioni a cui mi ero abituato.
La trama 猫 invece tra le sue pi霉 accattivanti. Un uomo s'accusa dalla prima pagina d'un omicidio. Ma, arrivato a met脿, ti chiedi ancora chi 猫 morto.
Chi 猫 abituato alla solita musica composta da Simenon potrebbe essere sorpreso per貌 merita ugualmente una lettura!
Consigliato a tutti gli amanti del genere introspettivo psicologico
Utilizzando la formula della prima persona sono mancati i suoi ritmi e le sue classiche descrizioni che riuscivano a creare le splendide ambientazioni a cui mi ero abituato.
La trama 猫 invece tra le sue pi霉 accattivanti. Un uomo s'accusa dalla prima pagina d'un omicidio. Ma, arrivato a met脿, ti chiedi ancora chi 猫 morto.
Chi 猫 abituato alla solita musica composta da Simenon potrebbe essere sorpreso per貌 merita ugualmente una lettura!
Consigliato a tutti gli amanti del genere introspettivo psicologico
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