The Executioner Weeps by Frédéric Dard




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

Comments