{ NB: Se vuoi leggere l'articolo completo su Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg clicca qui: L'Indagatore del Mondo che Fluttua. Grazie :) }----«1996. Francia, Parigi: la culla dei sognatori senza speranza. Parigi, la città di pietra, in grado di restituire il mondo minerale a chi ha trascorso la sua vita sulle montagne. Parigi, la città delle luci, con la sua bellezza imperitura, la sua arte e i suoi boulevard interminabili, pervasa dal profumo di pane fresco, di carta e di fumo.»«[...]Osservando Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg dall’esterno, a tutto si penserebbe fuorché a un commissario. Il volto già di per sé assomiglia a una caricatura, a un qualcosa di indefinito, un’accozzaglia di più facce che, tuttavia, nel suo insieme, è in grado di generare un qualcosa che si potrebbe addirittura definire “bello”. E’ un processo davvero strano quello che la nostra mente compie nell’osservare quel guazzabuglio di tratti casuali, apparentemente composti a dispetto di qualsiasi armonia classica: il naso, infatti, è troppo grosso, gli sono occhi vaghi e all’ingiù, la bocca leggermente storta, indefinita, eppure con una forma vagamente sensuale. Un bel rompicapo questo Adamsberg.»«[...]Ciò che, forse, risulta più affascinante in Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg è come, nonostante il trascorrere del tempo e delle avventure, egli rimanga per il lettore – così come per i suoi compagni di viaggio – un oggetto fondamentalmente oscuro, inesplorato. Nessuno può dire di saper tutto di lui, di poterne penetrare la psicologia in profondità o di capirne la logica: i suoi contorni rimangono sempre e comunque indefiniti, fumosi, fluttuanti. Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg, insomma, arriva a rappresentare uno di quei rari casi in cui il protagonista di un romanzo è in grado di superare i confini dell’opera stessa che lo contiene, in quanto così profondo, complesso e articolato da incarnare già di per sé un universo a parte. C’è la storia e c’è il suo protagonista, Adamsberg, ed è inutile dire come, quando questi due elementi arrivano a incontrarsi, la prosa e le vicende narrate diventino di una bellezza disarmante.»«[...]Il commissario Adamsberg, semplicemente, non è come tutti gli altri. La sua visione del mondo, infatti, è duplice; mentre le persone normali riescono perlopiù a distinguere ciò che è realtà da ciò che è pura fantasia, Adamsberg è in grado, al contrario, di intravedere quel sottile e fumoso limbo capace di celarsi fra le due. Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg è l’indagatore del mondo che fluttua: fuggevole ai comuni mortali, la realtà fluttuante non è altro che l’universo delle impressioni e delle idee, delle contraddizioni e delle tracce, degli errori… e delle ombre. Un dono veramente straordinario quello di riuscire a penetrare in tali reconditi meccanismi della mente umana, una virtù che, tuttavia, talvolta è capace di tramutarsi in una vera e propria maledizione.»«[...]La convinzione di Adamsberg in proposito è che per chiunque si appresti a compiere un delitto non sia sufficiente solo un fermo movente, e neppure il sostegno del dolore, dell’umiliazione o della nevrosi accumulata negli anni: fondamentale, infatti, è il ruolo svolto dalla crudeltà, ossia dal piacere tratto dalla sofferenza altrui, dallo strazio, dall’agonia, dalle suppliche. E’ qui che il talento di Adamsberg si manifesta in tutta la sua potenza, ovvero nel rintracciare in maniera tangibile tale crudeltà, come se fosse un’escrescenza sulla pelle, un qualcosa di mostruoso e abominevole suppurante dagli abissi più profondi dell’essere. Adamsberg è capace di vedere tale nauseabondo magma letteralmente trasudare dalla persona dell’assassino, scorrere sulla labbra e colare dagli occhi, con la stessa nitidezza con cui ciascuno di noi può vedere uno scarafaggio correre sul tavolo.»«[...]Camille, nel corso delle narrazione, arriva a rappresentare il perfetto alter ego di Adamsberg: sfuggente, oscura e indecifrabile, si dimostrerà infatti un’eroina capace di abbandonare l’uomo che ama, così, di punto in bianco, dopo una notte d’amore, sussurrandogli semplicemente all’orecchio di lasciarla andare. E’ infatti in questo modo che, una mattina d’inverno, semplicemente Camille decide di sparire, di fuggire lontano, senza un apparente motivo, completamente libera, sperduta, inafferrabile. Adamsberg non è in grado di spiegare neppure a se stesso come mai egli, dal canto suo, non abbia nemmeno provato a trattenerla, perché abbia lasciato la sua Camille, il suo “tesorino”, al resto del mondo. Probabilmente perché, Camille, per definizione, non può appartenere a nessuno, tanto meno a lui: come il vento, che non sceglie mai fra i rami di quale albero soffiare, la sua amata infatti sa sempre capire quale è il momento giusto in cui andarsene.»
Have Mercy On Us All is book number three in the delightful series by Fred Vargas. Although this one has an interesting (although somewhat farfetched) mystery at its core, it really stands out because of the crazy cast of eccentric characters that populate its pages. One such character is Joss Le Guern, whose current vocation is town crier in the square at the intersection of Boulevard Edgar-Quinet and Rue Delambre in Paris. For a mere 5 francs, anyone can drop a message about anything they want to say in his box and have it read that day. When read, each message begins with a number, for example: Five!...For sale, litter of white and ginger kittens, three male, two female. Six: Could the drum players making jungle noises all night long opposite number 36 please desist. Some people have to get some sleep. Seven: All types of carpentry, especially furniture restoration, perfect finish, will collect and deliver...But lately, Joss has been reading out some rather odd messages, which another resident of the square named Hervé Decambrais has been following with interest. Decambrais realizes that all of these very odd messages have been copied from different texts dealing with the outbreak of the bubonic plague of the 17th century. Concerned about what he views as the ominous tone of these messages, Decambrais and LeGuern contact the police -- and Adamsberg becomes involved in the case. But at the same time, Adamsberg has been investigating the strange occurrence of a number of apartment doors throughout Paris being painted with an odd symbol, and the two lines of investigation converge when a corpse is discovered, looking like a victim of the plague. Many more corpses soon follow -- and Adamsberg has to figure out what's happening before panic erupts in the streets of Paris.The mystery itself is intriguing and moves along at a good pace, but the plot is definitely secondary to the people in this novel. Vargas' forté definitely lies in the creation of her quirky characters, as well as her ability to give the reader a sensory experience of the city, especially at the Place Edgar-Quinet where LeGuern broadcasts the news. She's captured a slice of life in this square which sometimes the reader forgets exists in the 21st century -- it could have been (with a few exceptions), a portrait of life in an earlier time. And if you've read her novel The Three Evangelists, you'll recognize some old friends that make an appearance in this novel; the ongoing story of Adamsberg and the lovely Camille also continues. I definitely recommend this novel and this series -- it's light and fun, and at the same time Vargas' work as a medieval historian is most definitely transferred to these pages, adding another dimension to the overall reading experience. While I suppose you could read this book as a standalone, it's better to start with her first work, The Chalk Circle Man and follow the novels in publication order.
What do You think about Have Mercy On Us All (2005)?
This is the third Adamsberg novel by Vargas, and while considerably better than the second, I still find the initial one the strongest. Nevertheless, it's an excellent read.I am impressed by Vargas' inventive plots. There is an air of absurdity about the central issue in each of the first three books, paradoxically, a serious one. The first was about victims found within circles chalked on the Paris pavement, and the second (while in no sense of the horror/vampire genre), werewolves. The theme this time is bubonic plague. Once again the plot is meticulous and credible, and in no sense unbelievable. And also once again, the outcome surprised me, but made sense.The best mysteries are both valid as novels and reflect the culture in which they occur, and "Have Mercy on Us All" qualifies on both counts. The characters depicted are interesting and credible, some more likable than others, just as in real life. It's also interesting to get at least a bit of a sense of the French criminal justice system, which is based on very different assumptions than the Anglo-American one. Differences notwithstanding, there is clearly the same tension between what the law requires and what is actually just.Finally, I am trouble again by the title chosen for the English edition. It bears no relation to the title of the French edition, and does not seem an improvement, at least not to me.
—William
Chief Inspector Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg is puzzled by some reverse 4s appearing on the doors of some apartments in Paris and when 2 men bring him a series of cryptic notes left for the town crier, notes written in text out from different centuries, he is flummoxed but not alarmed..... that is, until the first murder takes place, and the murderer makes it look as it the Black Plague has struck in Paris once more.From the first murder, things start escalating. More bodies are found with nothing seemingly to connect them except the fact that they lived in apartments where a black reverse 4 was not painted on the door. Panic ensues and everyone starts painting reverse 4s on their doors in an attempt to ward off what looks to be the onset of another outbreak of the plague.Adamsberg finds himself having to pick up on French history quickly if he is to try and find other potential victims before they are murdered by an elusive murderer. There's good historical detail on the Black Plague as it swept through France, when and how it spread, and some of the superstitious practices thought to be successful in warding off the plague. The intrigue here was in part uncovering the murderer but the most interesting was unveiling the connections between the victims, and the reasons for the murders and in this unveiling, more surprises are in store.
—Caroline
Interesting premise for a policier. I haven't read the other books in the series, so my interpretation of certain characters might be totally off the mark. I'll stick to the technical details:The dialogue is fun, spare, with little or no tags, and flows naturally, staying true to the characters' personalities. The author seems to prefer brevity - sentences are short, but imbued with a witty humour that keeps things interesting. The characters are interesting, too - they all have their own stories to tell, their personal quirks are hilarious (the most prominent among them being Adamsberg's rather effective way of remembering names - I could learn something from him, seriously). I felt the novel started out quite strong (you can tell the author's put in much effort into creating the character of Joss Le Guern) but relaxed as it went on. The writing became a bit too simplistic for my tastes, but I suppose it is suited to the genre. I have certain... issues with Adamsberg, though - his relationship with the lovely Camille (whom we are not told much about - she seems to have been presented as something of an enigma) seems... complicated, to say the least - again, I have no idea what's going on with them but Adamsberg's indifference to their relationship - to everything - bugs me. Although, I did love his lamentations regarding the drowning of Adamsberg Mobilphone.Camille, though, I have no qualms about liking. She seems interesting; that scene on the couch, with Woolly and Danglard, was to die for. So was the scene preceding it - who was the guy that kissed her on the temple anyway? A figment of her imagination, perhaps? Some distant memory come to life in a time of extreme distress? And she's supposed to be the daughter of a Queen, am I right? I'd like to get to know more about her, yes.The climax leaves something to be desired - I hated how Adamsberg 'cracked the case', so to speak. We spend around 50% of the book inside Adamnsberg's mind, which is mostly blank while owner of said mind wanders listlessly around Paris for no seemingly good reason and then... it all just comes together, triggered by a flash of light. The identity of the plague-monger is shocking, the identity of the one pulling the strings is... not, strangely. The mystery at the core of the novel is unusual and intriguing, but it is poorly wrapped up - which cost this book one star. I didn't like Clementine; she's a convenient archetype of a character (old lady in her eighties with the requisite creepiness and deluded beliefs) - fell short in every way compared to the rest of the crewI loved the ending though - it brings everything full circle, goes back to the beginning; it feels a bit like holding out for hope. The pseudo noir-ish setting is perfect - long after you've finished the book, it stays with you.Overall, a very relaxing read that stays true to its genre, but blends in slice-of-life with mystery to brilliant effect.(I might just have to read the original French version! :D)
—Inkmyname
