The past is a haunted place in Fred Vargas’s L’Armée furieuse
The theme of this year’s Reading Group at the Institut français (http://bit.ly/1TzgI5I) is Testing translations, but there is a definite sub-theme on crime and murder. Last time we followed the existential crisis that led Georges Perec’s forger to kill his master employer in Le Condottière. This time
we had supernatural murderers to pursue in company of celebrated crime fiction writer Fred
Vargas.
Born in 1957 in Paris, Vargas (pen name for Frédérique Audouin-Rouzeau) wrote her first
novel while on an archaeological dig. She has since given up the day job as a medieval
archaeozoologist to concentrate on writing: a decision that seems wise given the success of
her novels (she regularly appears on the annual bestsellers list published by Le Figaro
http://bit.ly/1n9WCSN). And many of these novels feature Commissaire Adamsberg, who is described as looking very much like his TV incarnation Jean-Hugues Anglade (http://bit.ly/22dHHtK).
L’Armée furieuse, the book up for discussion on 10 March, brings Adamsberg to Ordebec a
fictional town, possibly based on Orbec (http://bit.ly/1Xq1Oyb). The townsfolk
live in fear of a medieval legendary Wild Hunt in which unpunished criminals lose their lives.
Assisted by two rival deputies who have a love for medieval verse as well as a gendarme
whose ancestor was a Marshal in Napoleon’s army, Adamsberg has to deal with a
simultaneous enquiry into the murder of a rich industrialist, possibly by his sons. There’s
also a troubling case concerning a pigeon.
Vargas takes us through the double murder enquiry, drawing our attention to intriguing
details (immobile cows, for instance) along the way. She also ties up all the loose threads in a
clever bundle at the end, despite the seeming improbability of being able to do so. And,
unlike much crime fiction, there is a lot of emphasis on dialogue – even dialogue that doesn’t
bring the case any further forward.
In our free-flowing discussion, many explained how they enjoyed reading Vargas’s work even
though they weren’t usually interested in crime fiction. We talked about how she gently
subverted expectations, played with overturning power structures and added a dose of
humour to the proceedings. We questioned our own assumptions when it came to reading
genre literature – be it crime fiction and horror. We agreed, disagreed and agreed to
disagree along the way. All in all, it made for a lively session.
Looking forward, instead of chocolate this Easter, you might like to ask the bunny for a copy
of Michel Tournier’s Le Roi des aulnes in time for our next session on 7 April. We’ll see you
then.
Dominic Glynn is Lecturer in French at the Institute of Modern Languages Research (IMLR).