My Weekly Book

The Three Evangelists by Fred Vargas

I am in a terrible position. I am going to have to dust off my creaky schoolgirl French and go and learn the language properly and it is all down to Fred Vargas. Not that I have anything against the translators of her novels. By and large I think they have done an excellent job. It’s just that only four of these strange, witty, primal, original books have been published in English and now I’ve read three of them. Always the contrarian, I started with one of the later in the series - Have Mercy On Us All and then worked back courtesy of the local library to Seeking Whom He May Devour.

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The Three Evangelists is an even earlier story, containing entirely different protagonists (although they do make a cameo appearance in one of the later books when some historical expertise is needed). Marc Vandoosler is the very prototype of a man defined by what he does rather than what he does for a living. A mediaeval historian and expert shoplifter, he is professionally underappreciated, close to being homeless and struggling to come to terms with a failed marriage so at the start of the book it is proving really rather hard for him to keep the flame alive. Until, by a gorgeous piece of serendipity featuring a pebble, he finds himself at the gates of a ruined house in a far-flung Paris arrondissement known to its neighbours as ‘the disgrace’.

It is immediately obvious to Marc that he needs to move in. He solicits help from his best friend Matthias Delamarre (a prehistorian, but Marc doesn’t hold that against him) who is his opposite in every respect apart from his relationship to employment, women and potential eviction. To pay the last third of the rent they round up a thoroughly disreputable chap, Lucien Devernois, a garrulous historian of the Great War no less, who they nevertheless know has the funds to make their scheme a reality. In a sly archaeologists’ in-joke, they arrange themselves stratigraphically in this four-floor building, with Marc’s godfather, or uncle, or something, Old Man Vandoosler representing the modern era at the top (to the irritation or occasionally outright fury of the others he coins the terms St Mark, St Luke and St Matthew to describe them and encourages everyone who calls to do the same).

A senior policeman expelled from the force for corruption, Vandoosler père represents a window into the world of police expertise that gives these latent detectives their excuse to get involved in a mystery plot. And it comes along in the form of a mature beech tree planted anonymously in the garden of the operatic superstar living next door. She is deeply concerned by this development - rightly as it turns out, and that’s no spoiler because there are certain assumptions you can definitely make about any detective tale - and falls back on her neighbours after her husband refuses to take her seriously. From here the story proceeds along the alleys, byways and side-streets of the thirteenth arrondissement, many of them blind, as each of the evangelists proves himself incapable of looking past whatever tree he is currently sitting in to discern the existence of a surrounding wood. Not until one of them is able to overcome this distinctly un-rigorous and un-academic habit of mind will the mystery be solved. Which of them will it be? And will the saint in question have the scales fall from his eyes in time to save his colleagues from harm?

But trying to write all this down is like trying to pin a butterfly to card. A good book review, I understand, is obliged to tell you what a book is like and what it is about. While we have the bald facts above it in no way gets across the delightful nature of Vargas’ work. The characters are so full of flaws, quirks, obsessions and manias that they feel like members of your own dysfunctional family - Old Man Vandoosler’s manipulative charm, Marc’s latest bout of hysteria, Matthias’ habit of wandering out into the street stark naked without noticing anything amiss or Lucien’s repeated urge to talk hard enough to have the leg off a very solid piece of furniture and always at the most inappropriate times. Another atmospheric tool that Vargas always seems to have available is a powerful sense of community - this is a world in which, whether you are talking about urban Paris or a far-flung Pyrenean village, neighbours know each other, pop in and out of each others’ homes, bring each other presents of food and drink and know unerringly when something has gone wrong with one of their number. It’s the most wonderful mixture and it comes highly recommended.

So, where’s my French textbook? I’ve only got one left to read now, after all…

Some links:

• Random House: Fred Vargas
• The Independent: Digging up the past
• The author wins an award
• Guardian review
• Eurocrime review 1
• Eurocrime review 2
• International Noir Fiction review
• Amazon Best European Crime list
• My Weekly Book review of Have Mercy On Us All
• My Weekly Book review of Seeking Whom He May Devour

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 3rd, 2007 at 11:10 am and is filed under 2007 reading challenge, Reads I recommend. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.