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756 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1992
This novel required no research. He nevertheless made a brief trip to Paris to pick up the scent of the neighborhood, wandering through the streets at nightfall, climbing stairways, walking through hallways outside attic rooms. Simenon needed these snapshots to recover the neighborhood's atmosphere and its light, the dreamlike light that dazzled his hero...Hard to dislike this as a biography of a very difficult man, a peculiar sort of writer, and no doubt a fairly prickly individual. For some reason that combination of elements doesn't sound like this was a simple project to construct. There are two aspects of this biography that are important throughout: Simenon's tendency to lie outright when it suited him, and the unique position of the Inspector Maigret novels, which GS regarded as bridges between serious writing, the work that paid the tab for the interesting excursions.
"I'll manufacture Fords for a while until enough money comes in. Then I'll make Rolls-Royces for pleasure." Georges SimenonIn a more difficult vein, you have to get thru the whole biography to realize that not only Simenon but Assouline too basically disregard the internationally famous novels GS wrote featuring Inspector Maigret. If by chance you came to this bio as a Maigret fan, you would be sorely disappointed by the content. The Maigret books were a means to an end, suggests Simenon outright; they paved the way for the hard novels, the romans dur that are his real and substantial achievement. I have to agree, but they were also the foundation of a framework for writing, an outlook that persisted into the novels.
"A suicide will cost me two hundred thousand readers; what I need is a murder."Jean Provoust, Simenon's editor at Paris-SoirWhat we've got, in overview, is former altar-boy Simenon rising thru the ranks of Belgian tabloid journalism, (where he gets a good glimpse of police methodology in passing), his golden years in Paris in the bohemian demimonde as he cultivates his pulp & detective technique, the money years where travel and barging on the back rivers of northern France become his delight, the war and his quasi-collaboration with the Vichy authorities, and a surprising period of exile in the United States. On his return, Simenon is now an international phenom and moves from chateau to chateau in France then Switzerland, eventually writing 200 books (fact) and bedding what he approximates to have been 10,000 women (undocumented).
"I promised myself an upbeat novel, or at least an optimistic one, but my characters would not allow it." Simenon, 1962What should be discussed is Simenon's true material, which if not crime detection (as in the Maigret books, at any rate) is more closely seen in the 'hard' novels. It is something like: the intersection of Frailty and Brutality, meeting each other in unforeseen circumstances and melting for a minute, intermingling for a star-crossed, ill-fated blip in time. While steaming down the tracks comes the inevitable, the unavoidable, the grand consequence. Simenon is nearly greek-tragic in his sense of fate, and the way he's able to put it across comes down to the other thing that should be discussed.
"At bottom, I am not a writer." Simenon, 1965Simenon's style is non-cryptic, direct, foreshortened and generally blunt. And yet he's able to use it to couch complex, contrary material, as above, in commonplace, banal descriptions. His atmospherics are precise, draftsmanlike, and without prosy bloat. Pierre Assouline offers a nice full chapter toward the end of the bio, discussing the style aspects in Simenon. If there is any formula, it is reduction, and direct reportage, delivered on-time without slant or skew. Simenon "was less sensitive to the music of words than to their weight". So in the end the policier grounds and frames the delicate balance of the hard novels, while the crime, in noirish tradition but contrary to the detective genre, remains observed, but unsolved.