SIMENON SIMENON. LOCKED ROOM MYSTERY NUMBER 1

On the first way the author joined a special club for mystery writers 

SIMENON SIMENON. MYSTERE EN CHAMBRE CLOSE NUMERO 1 

Sur le premier moyen par lequel l’auteur rejoignit un club réservé aux écrivains de polars 

SIMENON SIMENON. IL MISTERO DELLA CAMERA CHIUSA NUMERO 1

Il primo tramite attraverso cui l'autore si aggiunge ad un club riservato agli scrittori di gialli

It was a pleasant surprise to discover that very early in his writing career Georges Simenon joined the ‘Locked Room Mystery Club’ that includes big names like Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Conan Doyle, Gaston Leroux, and Agatha Christie among its prominent members.

As far as I can tell, The Little House at Croix-Rousse (Le pavillon de la Croix-Rousse), a very short story (6 pages) written during the winter of 1928-1929, is the first example. Originally published in two parts under the pseudonym Georges Sim in the weekly Détective magazine during 1929, it was subsequently incorporated into the 1932 collection entitled Les 13 Mystères that features Joseph Leborgne, a detective who works exclusively from the hotel room where he lives to investigate and solve cases. 

English translations can be found in several works: 1) Esquire Magazine as The Case of Dr. Ceccioni, 1935  2) Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine as The Little House at Croix-Rousse by Anthony Boucher in November 1947. 3) All But Impossible! edited by Edward D. Hoch, 1981. 4) The Fifty Greatest Mysteries of All Time edited by Otto Penzler, 1998. 5) The Black Lizard Big Book of Locked-Room Mysteries edited by Otto Penzler, 2014. 

The story opens with Leborgne examining the plot plan of a small house in Lyon 300 miles away from Paris. Six Xs mark the spots where policemen had been on guard in response to an anonymous letter indicating Doctor Luigi Ceccioni would be murdered in his home on a specific night. The police elected to encircle his house without warning “the interested party” because it was a “political matter” involving an Italian exiled to France for practicing more “politics” than “medicine.” Previously rich but now poor, Dr. Ceccioni lived in “lamentable” circumstances. He was alone as a widower with a single son who was off studying abroad. 

On the day in question, when Ceccioni went out for his customary dinner, the police officer in charge searched the house, “cellar to attic,” and determined “no one was hiding inside” and “it was impossible to enter except through two doors and three windows, all in plain site from the outside.” 

After the intended target returned home at 1:00 am and lighted an oil lamp in his bedroom, no cop “napped” or “left his post” or “lost sight” of the entry points where he was stationed while the chief rounded the house regularly. When the lamp flickered and went out as though it had run out of fuel, the officer in charge picked the lock and led the team in. Here’s what they found: the doctor dead, half-lying on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, still in his overcoat. His clothes were soaked in blood. His hands, also drenched in blood, were clutching his chest over a “6mm bullet hole less than I/2 inch above his heart.” But “no one had entered!” and “no one had left!” 

Most importantly, no gun was to be found: “Neither visible or hidden! Not up the chimney or in the gutters! Not in the garden or anywhere!” The windows were all closed and their panes were not broken, so he could not have been shot from outside the house. There was no sign of theft, and all the policemen were regarded as trustworthy. 

In short, the quandary was clear: a dead man, inside a locked ‘room’ all by himself, with a bullet hole in his chest, and no weapon in sight. But there were two elusive questions: whodunit?  And how? After pondering the case for a mere ten minutes, Leborgne revealed his deductions to the narrator. 

Anyone unable to read this story and interested in obtaining a brief explanation of this mystery could request one through the email contact button on this website: http://www.davidpsimmons.com/ 

David P Simmons 

SIMENON SIMENON. QUANDO UNO SCRITTORE SI OCCUPA DELLA COPERTINA

La sensibilità di Simenon nel capire l'importanza della presentazione del libro tramite la copertina.

SIMENON SIMENON. QUAND UN ECRIVAIN S'OCCUPE DE LA COUVERTURE

La sensibilité de Simenon à comprendre l'importance de la présentation d'un livre par sa couverture

SIMENON SIMENON. WHEN A WRITER PAYS ATTENTION TO THE COVER

Simenon’s sensitivity to understanding the importance of a book’s presentation by its cover

Strabismo editoriale. Un occhio al romanzo allo stile, al ritmo narrativo, allo spessore psicologico, alle atmosfere...

L'altro al, come si direbbe oggi, packaging, cioè in senso lato il modo in cui si presentano le cose, in questo caso al libro e soprattutto alla copertina.

Lo strabico di cui parliamo è ovviamente Georges Simenon il quale, terminata la fase di trance creativa del proprio romanzo, si interessava quasi più agli aspetti esteriori e al lancio che non alla revisione alla quale, lo sappiamo dai famosi calendari, dedicava non più di qualche giorno. Invece la copertina sarebbe una competenza solitamente editoriale cui provvede il reparto grafico e che comunque deve avere l'imprimatur del patron della casa editrice. Ma con Simenon le cose non erano mai scontate. E poi possiamo dire che avesse una vera e propria passione per la grafica e quindi un'attenzione per le copertine dei suoi libri, cosa non consueta in un romanziere....  Oppure si trattava di una sensibilità all'effetto che una certa copertina avrebbe fatto sul pubblico e forse questa sensibilità lo portava a fare delle scelte giuste?

Certo che per il lancio di una serie come quella dei Maigret, volle quelle, ormai, famose copertine fotografiche dove l'immagine iniziava nella prima di copertina e poi abbracciava sia la costa che la quarta di copertina. Se vogliamo un poliziotto letterario rivoluzionario del genere come Maigret meritava una copertina altrettanto originale.

"...sapete che io sono stato il primo al mondo, nel 1932, per il lancio dei primi Maigret a creare delle copertine fotografiche che comprendevano non solo le caratteristiche dell'atmosfera, ma i principali personaggi del romanzo - spiegava Simenon nel 1977 in una lettera indirizzata a Federico Fellini - Ormai è diventata una tradizione nell'editoria, ma quarantacinque anni fa', era considerata rivoluzionaria...".

Questa composizione della fotografia di copertina è un po' didascalica, non lascia nulla all'immaginazione e all'interpretazione. Ci viene da pensare che una decina di anni a lavorare per l'editoria popolare, con le copertine che dovevano impressionare, far innamorare e comunque far capire più chiaramente possibile di cosa si trattava, in  modo o in altro avessero lasciato qualche segno.

Un iperrealista che voleva che atmosfera, personaggi e magari anche gli animali saltassero fuori del romanzo per apparire in copertina come affacciati ad una finestra.

Emblematico è il caso che lo stesso Simenon racconta in Mémoires intimes a proposito della realizzazione della copertina de Le charretier de la Providence. 

"...si tratta questa volta del quartiere di Maibert de "la Mouf" come si dice in dialetto, rifugio dei barboni, con i quali ho passato, nel 1931, una notte intera alla ricerca di un uomo che doveva apparire sulla copertina fotografica di "Le charretier de la Providence". Lo ho trovato nel più malridotto dei rifugi, per quelli che non hanno più speranza, l'ho portato in uno studio dove l'hanno fotografato vicino ad un cavallo bianco pezzato, affittato per l'occasione...".

Sì, insomma potremmo quasi dire che per i suoi libri, o meglio per le foto delle copertine dei suoi libri, si occupava anche del... casting....(m.t.) 

SIMENON SIMENON. UNE RICHE ICONOGRAPHIE

Quelques réflexions à propos des images de Maigret 

SIMENON SIMENON. UNA RICCA ICONOGRAFIA 

Alcuni riflessioni a proposito degli immagini di Maigret 

SIMENON SIMENON. A RICH ICONOGRAPHY 

Some thoughts about Maigret's pictures 

"Ai-je bu un, deux, ou même trois petits genièvres colorés de quelques gouttes de bitter ? Toujours est-il qu'après une heure, un peu somnolent, je commençais à voir se dessiner la masse puissante et impassible d'un monsieur qui, me sembla-t-il, ferait un commissaire acceptable. Pendant le reste de la journée, j'ajoutai au personnage quelques accessoires : une pipe, un chapeau melon, un épais pardessus à col de velours."

C'est ainsi que Simenon relate la création légendaire de son héros dans le texte "La naissance de Maigret", écrit en 1966 et paru en préface du premier volume des Œuvres complètes publiées par les éditions Rencontre. Cette silhouette qui apparaît au romancier, celle d'un personnage à peine esquissé par quelques détails reconnaissables, Simenon aura le génie de la garder quasi telle quelle tout au long des 75 romans de la saga maigretienne. Quelques touches supplémentaires sur le physique du commissaire seront ajoutées, mais suffisamment vagues pour que chaque lecteur puisse s'en faire sa propre représentation. Une sorte de plasticité qui a permis à des acteurs aux physiques très différents de se couler dans le pardessus de Maigret et d'y être crédibles.  

En effet, on en sait peu sur l'aspect physique de Maigret: plutôt brun (dans Pietr le Letton, il est dit que ses cheveux sont "d'un châtain sombre où se distinguaient à peine quelques fils blancs autour des tempes"), le visage correspondant au reste du physique (un visage qualifié, dans les textes, de charnu, lourd, épais, ou large), le commissaire n'a guère d'autres traits distinctifs. Même le port de la moustache reste un sujet discuté !  

Cette silhouette dessinée à grands traits, engoncée dans un manteau, d'où dépasse le tuyau d'une pipe, permet aussi toute une iconographie, et on imagine volontiers cette masse énorme, noire, vue de dos. Nombre de couvertures de romans reprendront cette image, mais on la trouvera aussi déclinée sur des affiches ou des encarts publicitaires. Bientôt, à côté des adaptations au cinéma, qui vont donner un visage au commissaire (ou plutôt des visages, car les acteurs des premiers films ont une allure fort différente, c'est le moins que l'on puisse dire: voir Pierre Renoir, Harry Baur ou Abel Tarride), vont apparaître les premières illustrations dans les journaux. En effet, si les parutions originales des romans chez Fayard ne contenaient pas d'illustration autre que celle de la couverture, c'est dans les journaux où sont publiés des préoriginales des nouvelles, ou des romans en feuilletons, qu'on trouvera les premiers dessins représentant Maigret, chaque illustrateur y allant de sa propre patte, représentant le commissaire selon son propre style.  

Pour les romans en traduction, on s'inspirera aussi des acteurs ayant interprété le commissaire, tels Gabin, ou Gino Cervi pour les deux séries dessinées par Ferenc Pinter. Souvent encore on verra des images d'un commissaire qui ressemble à son créateur. Le rapprochement était facile: imperméable, chapeau et pipe, sont des attributs non seulement de Maigret, mais de Simenon sur nombre de photographies pour lesquelles il a complaisamment posé. On connaît l'anecdote à propos de la série de timbres émise par la Poste française en 1996: la série "héros de romans policiers" comprenait Rocambole, Arsène Lupin, Rouletabille, Fantômas, Nestor Burma et Maigret. Pour illustrer ce dernier, le dessinateur Marc Taraskoff s'est inspiré de la célèbre photographie sur laquelle Simenon posait devant l'entrée du Quai des Orfèvres, lors de son voyage de 1952. Ce qui fait qu'en réalité, ce n'est pas Maigret le héros policier qui se trouve sur le timbre, mais Simenon lui-même… Une confusion dont le romancier s'est souvent fait complice…  

A côté de ces illustrations pour les journaux et les supports divers, on peut mentionner aussi les bandes dessinées (nous renvoyons au billet récent signé de Philippe Proost), qui, chacune, nous montrent un Maigret différent. Et même, un dessinateur comme Jacques Blondeau ne l'a pas toujours représenté sous le même aspect dans les bandes qu'il a illustrées. Preuve que Maigret reste insaisissable, et c'est tant mieux, car c'est ce qui explique peut-être aussi sa longévité auprès des lecteurs: l'image du commissaire n'est pas figée, et elle reste toujours à réinventer… 

Murielle Wenger 

SIMENON SIMENON. G-7 CAME BEFORE MAIGRET

On how this character compares to the one who follows him. 

SIMENON SIMENON. G-7 VINT AVANT MAIGRET 

Comment ce personnage peut se comparer à celui qui le suit. 

SIMENON SIMENON. G-7ARRIVA PRIMA DI MAIGRET

Come questo personaggio può essere confrontato con quello che lo seguirà

G-7 was created a few months before Maigret. “G-7” is a nickname for “Inspecteur B.” Different ‘versions’ of this investigator, including the preceding filiations by Simenon of “Sancette” and “Joseph Boulines” “L53” and “L52,” preceded him. The discussion focuses only on the later G-7 as he appeared in the 14 Enigma stories. 

13 short stories, written about him in the winter of 1928-1929, came out in Détective magazine serially from September to December 1929 under the pseudonym Georges Sim. Maigret came out in Ric et Rac magazine serially from July to October 1930. Maigret resurfaced in the 1931 novel Pietr-le-Letton, and G-7 resurfaced in the 1932 collection Les 13 énigmes. 

So, how much did this earlier G-7 contribute, if anything, to the later Maigret? The limited details about G-7 that his creator provides make comparison easier: there is no physical description of the man whatsoever in 6 of 13 stories and, where presented, the images are restricted to a few repeated features. Curiously, a 14th short story, one also written in 1929 that told more about the man than the other 13, was not published until 1991. It became an appropriate lead-in to the series of Enigma stories published in the 2014 Nouvelles secrètes et policières, Volume 1. A short novel in 1931 and three short stories in 1933 added to the grand total of 18 G-7 tales. 

Unfortunately for pure Anglophones, I could locate only three English translations of the 18 stories. All by Anthony Boucher, they were published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine: “The Secret of Fort Bayard” (November 1943), “The Tracy Enigma” (May 1947) [“Le corps disparu” being the French title], and “The Chateau of Missing Men” (August 1948). Some copies are available online. Back issues likely exist in some libraries. 

One can compare G-7 to Maigret through this necessarily partial portrait: G-7 is so named because “he is about as redheaded and red-faced as the Parisian taxicabs bearing this graphic.” As a “big red boy,” he is more than just “big and broad” since he is “well-built though not excessively so” with an “athletic build” and a “powerful stature.” His “expressive face” is “sprinkled with freckles” around “clear eyes.” G-7 is “always smiling” with his “fleshy lips,” flashing many communicative looks, ranging from “a happy smile” to “a strange smile” to “a terribly human bitter smile” to “a certain nonchalance.” But he is also serious; in fact, he is “serious like a fortuneteller.” More than just “a boy sure of himself,” he is “a man concerned enough about serious things to not worry about the way he dressed.” And, like Maigret, G-7 usually remains “calm.” With “no nervousness in the way he puffs on his pipe,” he “declares calmly” or “responds calmly.” Yet, when “grumpy” or “gruff,” he “crushes with his look” and “reprimands” or “groans crabbily” and “hammers home.” 

The detective’s method is distinctive for its direct blunt questioning: Although “stingy with his words,” he does not lack “the audacity to ask questions” usually “demanded in a cutting tone.” Since “his first concern is to impose silence on his targets,” he orders, “You will respond to my questions […] in as few words as possible.” And thus, with “not a minute wasted, four witnesses march through in less than an hour.” Evidence goes into a notebook to which G-7 “devotes a good ten minutes making legible notes,” whereas Maigret tends to dabble in drawing sketches. 

Maigret-like trances are another investigative feature: G-7 “remained immobile without breathing a word for a good half-hour.” The narrator, his ever-present friend, explains, “In a word, he seemed empty of thoughts, but I learned from then on to discount that look.” 

G-7 drinks wine, smokes a pipe, and rides a bicycle, all Maigret-like activities. Maigret plays a little chess, but G-7 has “just one passion: the game of chess.” And most unlike Maigret, G-7 knows how to and does drive a car. 

David P Simmons