The Blue Room by
Georges Simenon
pbk out November 02
(Orion)
at £6.99
This is a re-issue of the original published in 1963, being one of Orion's
Crime Masterworks series. It is a small book with a large reputation, being
one of Simenon's 'psychological' stories. I have to say, probably swimming
against the stream, that I like these less than his Maigret tales.
The story is simple, but told in a strange way, in that it is a dialogue between
the accused and Judge d'Instruction, with sequential flashbacks, so that the
story is told in a kind of 'two steps-forward, one-step back' fashion, which I
found a little disconcerting. Rather like Ed McBain, Simenon uses minute
detail to colour his prose, quite unrelated to the story-line - we are told that
the main character remembers a particular milestone from his childhood,
where he once stopped to tie up his shoe-lace. George can't have had my
copy-editor, who would have had her blue pencil out in a frenzy of erasure at
sins such as that!
Tony, an agricultural machinery dealer in a small town in Western France,
has a passionate affair with Andree, who is married to a sickly grocer. On
eight occasions in a year, they met in his brother's hotel in a nearby town,
using 'the blue room' for tempestuous love-making. The sparse conversation
they had on the last assignation, is repeated throughout the book, as it haunts
Tony. He is frightened off by the fear that the husband is suspicious, but
Andree begins to importune him again and what follows can't be revealed if
you intend reading the book.
In fact, it is not until almost the end of the book that the reader is made
aware of what Tony is accused of, in his many hand-cuffed appearances
before the judge, who is used by Simenon as the foil to extract the story.
What is the denouement, you may ask? Well, not a lot, to be frank. This
book could be looked on as a long short-story and I find that form of
literature often unsatisfying. One gets to the last page and wonders why one
has used up two hours of valuable life for such little gain. Still, who am I to
winge at the great Simenon? But I wouldn't choose his books for my sojourn
on a desert island.
(
Bernard Knight
ex Home Office Pathologist and author of the highly acclaimed Crowner John series)
