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Murder at the Frankfurt Book Fair
A novel about the publishing of an international novel in Frankfurt, Germany, scene of the annual book fair where all the great international publishing houses convene each fall.
204 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1976
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About the author
Hubert Monteilhet
83 books3 followersHubert Monteilhet, né le 10 juillet 1928 à Paris, est un écrivain français. Il s'impose d'abord comme auteur de romans policiers (Les Mantes religieuses), puis comme auteur de romans historiques (Les Derniers Feux, Néropolis, La Pucelle).
Les commentateurs voient en lui un héritier des romanciers libertins du XVIII siècle. Il se distingue par des intrigues originales, des personnages totalement amoraux, une plume incisive, élégante et parfois licencieuse, une liberté de ton, un humour mordant.
Les commentateurs voient en lui un héritier des romanciers libertins du XVIII siècle. Il se distingue par des intrigues originales, des personnages totalement amoraux, une plume incisive, élégante et parfois licencieuse, une liberté de ton, un humour mordant.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
September 19, 2020
I didn’t read the original French version - I read the 1976 translation for Doubleday by Barbara Bray (‘Murder at the Frankfurt Book Fair’). However, the Doubleday edition is out of print and GR doesn’t have a thumbnail of it, which I prefer.
The title was intriguing - I came across it whilst randomly researching the 18th-century French author Prévost on the web (famous primarily for Manon Lescaut).
Monteilhet was a professor of history at the Sorbonne who wrote detective & commercial genre fiction in his spare time and achieved considerable success in his day, with a few novels adapted for films both in Hollywood and his native France.
The book is an entertaining read - the first two thirds extremely entertaining. Sadly it rapidly runs out of steam when the characters reach the eponymous Frankfurt.
The lead character is a Sorbonne professor who writes commercial genre fiction under pseudonyms. He argues with his publisher and decides to embarrass him by plagiarising a forgotten Prévost novel - these days Prévost is a one-hit wonder but he actually has an extensive oeuvre of unread masterpieces (and even the hit, Manon Lescaut, is only volume 7 of a much longer and unread work).
The twist is, the plagiarised book becomes a major bestseller. But the plagiarist professor’s academic/literary/romantic stalker, a Bibliotheque Nationale spinster librarian named Cecile, discovers the fraud. The professor’s attempts to keep her sweet and square things with his grasping publisher Grouillot form the matter of the book.
Both male characters are fantastically amoral villains and their manipulations of each other, literary Paris, and the charmingly naive/piercingly astute Cecile are hugely funny. Monteilhet‘s satire of literary pretension and the book industry is very sharp. There is also a certain entertainingly performative Frenchness which comes through in the translation - I’m not sure how much of this is due to Bray’s work.
These days right-wingers drone on about ‘cultural marxism’ and post-structuralist philosophy ‘destroying western civilisation’. On the contrary - I’m starting to see how much post-structuralist ideas stimulated writers of the period. Whilst this book is squarely aimed at a mainstream audience, I feel its concerns with authenticity, with the creation of meaning and value in society, with how a text is intended and how it is read, are completely indebted to Roland Barthes’ seminal 1967 essay, ‘The Death of the Author’. Penelope Fitzgerald’s 1977 debut ‘The Golden Child’ is another. Fitzgerald’s attempt comes across as the lumpen, clumping Anglo-Saxon peasant in comparison, Monteilhet‘s as the sprightly, elegant French aristocrat - but the ultimate fruition of this strand of literature is Umberto Eco’s ‘The Name of the Rose’ which transcends genre altogether.
The title was intriguing - I came across it whilst randomly researching the 18th-century French author Prévost on the web (famous primarily for Manon Lescaut).
Monteilhet was a professor of history at the Sorbonne who wrote detective & commercial genre fiction in his spare time and achieved considerable success in his day, with a few novels adapted for films both in Hollywood and his native France.
The book is an entertaining read - the first two thirds extremely entertaining. Sadly it rapidly runs out of steam when the characters reach the eponymous Frankfurt.
The lead character is a Sorbonne professor who writes commercial genre fiction under pseudonyms. He argues with his publisher and decides to embarrass him by plagiarising a forgotten Prévost novel - these days Prévost is a one-hit wonder but he actually has an extensive oeuvre of unread masterpieces (and even the hit, Manon Lescaut, is only volume 7 of a much longer and unread work).
The twist is, the plagiarised book becomes a major bestseller. But the plagiarist professor’s academic/literary/romantic stalker, a Bibliotheque Nationale spinster librarian named Cecile, discovers the fraud. The professor’s attempts to keep her sweet and square things with his grasping publisher Grouillot form the matter of the book.
Both male characters are fantastically amoral villains and their manipulations of each other, literary Paris, and the charmingly naive/piercingly astute Cecile are hugely funny. Monteilhet‘s satire of literary pretension and the book industry is very sharp. There is also a certain entertainingly performative Frenchness which comes through in the translation - I’m not sure how much of this is due to Bray’s work.
These days right-wingers drone on about ‘cultural marxism’ and post-structuralist philosophy ‘destroying western civilisation’. On the contrary - I’m starting to see how much post-structuralist ideas stimulated writers of the period. Whilst this book is squarely aimed at a mainstream audience, I feel its concerns with authenticity, with the creation of meaning and value in society, with how a text is intended and how it is read, are completely indebted to Roland Barthes’ seminal 1967 essay, ‘The Death of the Author’. Penelope Fitzgerald’s 1977 debut ‘The Golden Child’ is another. Fitzgerald’s attempt comes across as the lumpen, clumping Anglo-Saxon peasant in comparison, Monteilhet‘s as the sprightly, elegant French aristocrat - but the ultimate fruition of this strand of literature is Umberto Eco’s ‘The Name of the Rose’ which transcends genre altogether.
January 15, 2024
The story is about the plagiarism of a classic, perpetuated by Professor LL from the Sorbonne, along with the disputes he has with his publisher, and the dangerous relationship he develops with a moralist librarian.
The main characters are irritating and unsympathetic. Even the shared thoughts may serve to the attractive French habit of divagating about life and society, it feels a little forced in here. I'm not familiar with the specific context, but the author sounds like he's mocking people he knows.
The narration has three parts. Part One is a long introduction, Part Two is more complex, and the Third is more about picaresque situations and easy effects. They work well if you don't pay attention to the title, which is too much of a spoiler. Or you could consider it the result of a story you are about to get explained.
The author offers us to read "documents" to expose the scandal: personal diaries, notes and letters. This resource is effective for some passages, especially the impressions of the main couple about their encounters and doubtful ethics, although it may get monotonous. What at first is a comical contrast between the cynicism of the antihero and the romantic ideals of the girl, becomes a flat explanation of their behaviours.
However, the letters related to the editorial environment are fun to read. To me, the best point of the book is the sarcastic depiction of the editorial business and the snobism of the intellectual world.
Ignoring what an actual perspective would tell about the values of the time, I guess the book was thought to be the base for a 1970s black comedy script.
**1/2 stars
The main characters are irritating and unsympathetic. Even the shared thoughts may serve to the attractive French habit of divagating about life and society, it feels a little forced in here. I'm not familiar with the specific context, but the author sounds like he's mocking people he knows.
The narration has three parts. Part One is a long introduction, Part Two is more complex, and the Third is more about picaresque situations and easy effects. They work well if you don't pay attention to the title, which is too much of a spoiler. Or you could consider it the result of a story you are about to get explained.
The author offers us to read "documents" to expose the scandal: personal diaries, notes and letters. This resource is effective for some passages, especially the impressions of the main couple about their encounters and doubtful ethics, although it may get monotonous. What at first is a comical contrast between the cynicism of the antihero and the romantic ideals of the girl, becomes a flat explanation of their behaviours.
However, the letters related to the editorial environment are fun to read. To me, the best point of the book is the sarcastic depiction of the editorial business and the snobism of the intellectual world.
Ignoring what an actual perspective would tell about the values of the time, I guess the book was thought to be the base for a 1970s black comedy script.
**1/2 stars
August 29, 2025
2.68
no review, just moving on
no review, just moving on
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews