The Executioner Weeps
- an off-kilter love story where the tale's suspense builds and builds,
picking up momentum chapter by chapter, surging to a jolting,
completely unexpected end. Wow. What a novel.
Frédéric Dard once
again proves himself a master of existential noir. Driving on a dark
road at night along the coast near the Spanish town of Castelldefels
where he's vacationing, French artist Daniel Mermet is dreamily
reflecting on his boyhood when a supine figure, a young woman, leaps in
front of his car. He slams on the brakes but can't avoid the inevitable.
Fortunately, she doesn't appear to be seriously injured and Daniel
places her in his car and drives back to the inn where he's staying. One
image from the scene makes a deep impression on him: a smashed violin
case with the violin's black pegs still attached to their strings strewn
over the pavement.
A consequence of the accident: this stunning
blonde who knows only French has lost her memory; she's surprised she's
in Spain; she can't even recollect her own name. Steps are taken to make
everything official. The old town doctor examines the young lady,
cleans and bandages her wounds, tells Daniel there's no serious damage
and all she needs is rest. The Doc then asks to be paid fifty pesetas
which Daniel hands over without objection. And after the inn's
proprietor speaks with the police, Daniel is made to understand the carabineros
don't give a tinker's damn if he ran over a French woman as long as
there isn't a corpse making the public highway untidy. The takeaway
message on all counts: Your problem, not ours, Frenchman.
After
matters are settled with his lovely charge and she's fast asleep, Daniel
takes his paints and easel to the beach, setting out to capture the row
of picturesque buildings that grace the length of the coast. “I started
to paint. Now when I paint, nothing else in the world exists except my
palette splattered with colours and the special universe which I create
in two dimension.” Further along in his creative process, he reflects,
“I was painting the way an athlete strives for the perfect performance.
My heart was pounding and my temperature rising. It was a good feeling
yet it saddened me. It was both exhausting and exalting. .. I trembled
as I squeezed my tube in search of the ideal blue I was looking for...
The joyless blue of Spain... an intense yet faded blue which, unlike all
other blues, reflects no hint of peace.”
I've included these
quotes to emphasize Daniel is no dabbler, he's an accomplished
professional with the drive and dedication vital for a true artist.
Sidebar: There's a film similarly capturing the fury and passion of an artist at his canvas: Martin Scorses's Life Lessons starring Nick Nolte, the first of three short films in New York Stories.
If you haven't seen this outstanding flick, watch the trailer available
on YouTube - a truly amazing glimpse of what it means to be an artist
on fire.
Following a car drive with his new charge to Barcelona
in order to explain the situation to the French consulate where they
tell him she's in a fix but it's not their issue and there's nothing
they can do, the pair return to Castelldefels and our impassioned artist
has the blonde beauty pose for him on the beach (some days ago she
watched, fascinated, as he painted his landscape and was most agreeable
when he asked her to sit for him). Daniel becomes infatuated with his
portrait. “She was almost more real than her real self. There were her
features, her high cheekbones, her deep, inquisitive eyes, her slightly
mocking mouth...and also her air of quiet melancholy, her gentle
disillusionment.”
Is it any surprise shortly thereafter we're
reading about an artist on fire where the scorching flames are fanned by
love for a beautiful woman? What a conflagration! Daniel eventually
even gets her to remember her name – Marianne. Yet there's something
unsettling gnawing at the edges. When he looks carefully at his portrait
of Marianne, he can detect a bizarre, disconcerting glint in her eye, a
sparkle that doesn't seem to belong with the rest of her, something
that borders on disturbing in its intensity.
Recall I mentioned
suspense builds chapter by chapter. This is hardly overstatement.
Certain future scenes are not only disturbing but downright shocking.
One thing I'd suggest: after you finish the novel (the pages seem to fly
by, the story is that spellbinding), give the novel a careful second
read. You'll surely catch a number of clues of what this drama is
leading up to. And what a humdinger! Thank you, Pushkin Vertigo
for publishing six of Frédéric Dard's "novels of the night" translated
into English. For me, it's three down and three to go - every novel so
worth it.
French crime novelist Frédéric Dard, 1921-2000
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