A very ambitious, extremely dark and disturbing novel that takes you (if you dare to go, as I did) into the deepest and most horrifying labyrinths of the human psyche—exactly the place where 19th-century France’s most talented, deranged, feisty, and controversial poet, Charles Baudelaire, used to function in his tormented ways, beaten by stress, alcohol, and powerful opium…during the progress and final stages of syphilis, a mind-wrecking venereal disease he contracted from Jeanne Duval or other “cocottes” of the seeding underbelly of "La Ville-Lumière," leading to a fatal stroke. Jeanne, despised by Baudelaire’s mother Caroline (who described her as “the black witch with the red Creole eyes” and nearly caused her son’s suicide for not liking her), was truly the inspiration of many of Baudelaire’s poems.
Baudelaire’s first volume of poems, Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil) appeared in 1857 to a mixed bag of literary critics, mostly enraged conservative folks who had no appetite for such type of writing. They succeeded in having the courts punish him with severe warnings and fines, and suppress six of the book’s poems completely from existence during his lifetime, poems that adhered to the Modernist and Symbolist literary movements he proudly elucidated, never imagining these traditional purists such poems would decades later influence whole generations of new writers worldwide.
Constantly harassed for offending public morality with his highly original and bold poetry, rich with themes of sex, death, sacred love, profane love, lesbianism, lost innocence, the black arts, urban sensibility, city corruption, and sensorial imagery involving smell and fragrances—all considered scandalous at the time—Baudelaire, nevertheless, gained a large following of admirers, giants of letters such as Victor Hugo, Gustave Flaubert, Honoré de Balzac, and genius opera composer Richard Wagner, among them, who offered immediate support.
Three years after Baudelaire’s death, Commissioner Lefèvre and his assistant Inspector Bouveroux, the main characters in Bob Van Laerhoven’s magnificent crossover novel, Baudelaire’s Revenge, face the haunting task to solve a series of beastly murders by a demented person who seems to take revenge on the maligned reputation of Baudelaire’s poetry. Each disfigured or mutilated body carries lines from the likewise dismembered “Flowers of Evil” book of poetry Baudelaire once wrote. The lines seem to be written in Baudelaire's own handwriting.
From early chapters, my feelings were hanging on this question: Is Baudelaire’s ghost madly hovering around the City of Lights…like a Jack the Ripper type of criminal…or is there something frighteningly more sinister and revolting for these two crime investigators to unravel? I had to continue reading Laerhoven’s gripping novel slowly and cautiously, while enjoying his eloquent and lively prose, to the end to find out.
With precise sentences, clever imagery, and clinical details (from current events and socio-political analysis to French literature of this period to mental hallucinations and kinky sex), Laerhoven creates a story of such scope, texture, and depth one feels suddenly thrown forever into the underground hellish world Baudelaire once inhabited. Worse, one also gets to live and feel the appalling reality of Prussian troops entering a very chaotic and demoralized 1870 Paris, its ruler, Emperor Bonaparte III, disorganized and useless to defend the city, its citizens downright perplexed and disheartened, mostly turning to dangerous public acts of violence, robbery, and rape to secure money, food, and pleasure, if not just to survive.
Laerhoven describes with style and clarity yet another layer of storytelling: the “unstoppable decadent atmosphere” of Paris…so perversely reflected, one might say, in Baudelaire’s ingenious poetry found in The Flowers of Evil, where, among other things, the ever-widening gap between the poor working class and the wealthy aristocracy (the former starving to death, the latter indulging in debaucheries) is exposed.
Another fascinating layer in this literary historical dark mystery falls in the characterizations of Commissioner Lefèvre and his assistant Inspector Bouveroux. These two flawed fellows carry the story with incredible intimacy, mystery, and suspense. Both are veterans of the Algerian war, where they fought in the French Army, getting physically and mentally wounded, unable to rid themselves of the curse of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) thirty years or so later, precisely now when the stress and intoxication of the serial crimes they investigate overwhelm everything. Flashbacks took me vividly to those adventurous but dreadful years, mixing brave moments during battles with exotic women during breaks, which forever contaminated their personalities.
Lefèvre, the most affected, often founds himself wondering on the wicked cobbled streets of nocturnal Paris, mostly in search of Claire de la Lune or other exotic prostitute, a few times facing life-threatening situations. His love of poetry, however, keeps him firmly addicted to the “poetry murders” investigation. Bouveroux, on the other hand, is the perfect assistant investigator, unconcerned with women of the night. When he comments to his boss one morning, “Artists are only interested in two things—cash and cunt,” showing his contrasting personality and views on society, Lefèvre responds, “Baudelaire told me he was only interested in death.” He was referring to the day he had visited the living infamous poet in jail during his fined and punished days ordered by the court of Napoleon III. Bouveroux’s own personal concerns (many for sure) evidently lay elsewhere.
Laerhoven weaves more layers of narrative mystery. With sensitive delicacy, he allows some characters from Baudelaire’s family to come out of their shells with poignant dialogues and monologues, often excruciatingly so. Everything gets very tense at times, with his mother Caroline and stepfather General Aupik blasting each other through heated exchange of letters focused on their terribly misbehaving Baudelaire. One can never have enough of this complex but thrilling masterpiece. Highly recommend.
I was given a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.