About the woman who, in obeying and submitting to her killer, destroyed the man as well
SIMENON SIMENON. LA VICTIME DANS “LETTRE A MON JUGE”
A propos de la femme qui, en obéissant à et soumettant à son assassin, a détruit l’homme aussi
SIMENON SIMENON. LA VITTIMA NELLA LETTERA AL MIO GIUDICE"
A proposito della donna che, obbendendo e sottomettendosi al suo assassino, ha comunque distrutto l'uomo
In contrast to the trio of Clémence, Jeanne, and Armande that influenced the mainstream life of Dr. Charles Alavoine, it was the single character Martine who triggered his rapid decline and downfall. Simply put, Martine finally fulfilled his peculiar psychological and physical needs. Alavoine discovered that, unlike Armande and Clémence in particular, Martine was “obedient” to him and submissive in most every way.
Notably, Martine attracted him physically despite being “such an ordinary little being,” but Armande did not attract him at all despite being “such an amazing woman.” Problematical in that appeal, however, was his discovery that sex for Martine was separate from him. “Her desire, in spite of my presence, was a solitary desire.” It was sex “without love” whereas for him their sex was elating because “it seemed to be, for the first time in my life, I possessed a woman.” Right from the start, he “could not envision the perspective of a life without her,” for she “was more close to me than any human being had ever been.”
Oddly invited by Alavoine into his household the very next day after they met, Martine is oddly accepted by the two other women as well. Although he was ecstatic because he was deceiving them, he felt limitations: “I could no longer get enough of her. […] As soon as she was no longer near me, it was suddenly a total void.” Her absence in any way stimulated terrible jealousy. For example, a harmless but, for Alavoine, threatening rival became yet one more obsession in his disturbed mind. It was not because that man might have become her lover, rather it was because of much smaller things, like him possibly having “spoken—before me—to Martine.”
According to Alavoine, sex for Martine was an “intolerable anguish,” which he explained was because she thought she was “bad” and so she sought “deliverance” in the arms of others, which she never found. Bragging that he “understood,” he decided he could fix her problem. Yet, even after their exile forced by Armande, even when they were free to have intercourse every night, Martine continued to “agonize” in her “stiffness.” Inexplicably (to my view, not his), she “at last” achieved “the miracle” of orgasm and thereafter “her flesh quickly became as obedient as her mind.”
Feeling then “the desire to show myself cruel,” Alavoine began to abuse Martine physically. “I was squeezing her to hurt her. I no longer knew if I loved her or hated her.” What’s more, this ensued on top of psychologically “berating, criticizing, questioning, and doubting” her. Nevertheless, whenever egotistical Alavoine “acted like a brute,” submissive Martine “accepted it.”
So it was that he “took charge of her life” and concluded crazily he had to “beat” the “bad” out of her, to “save” her, to “free” her. The end result was the ultimate in abuse: death by strangulation. Alavoine’s choice to fatally clamp his fingers around Martine’s neck connected insanely with his primary complaint that Armande “did not allow me enough play in the leash around my neck.” The gist of his letter to the judge? “Don’t say I’m crazy. […] I freed her.”
David P Simmons
