 Maigret and the Apparition (1964)
On my third Georges Simenon novel, I finally hit a point of contentedness, having accustomed myself to the lack of revelation, inspiration, and art to the books and the Parisian policeworld depicted therein. Maigret mysteries have become, for me, sort of like generic aspirin … no real escape, but dulling enough. Maigret and the Apparition is billed on the back cover as "unusually engaging," which I suppose is a back-handed way to say that Simenon's novels are typically just filler, which is true enough. This one is, in fact, a cut above the others I've read, thanks to a better-than-average plot, some actual cat-and-mouse detective work, and a surprisingly sweet lunchtime conversation between Maigret and his ever-patient-and-supportive wife. This one involves Maigret's investigation into the attempted murder of a fellow police inspector, who was on the trail of an international art-fraud ring. Maigret gets no cooperation from the suspects, leading to some righteously contentious back-and-forth questioning and a few engaging twists. There's still the requisite corner-cutting on the part of the author … if I recall correctly, this is the book that includes a line like "Maigret slept, but didn't dream, or if he did, he didn't remember it, and before he knew it, it was morning." (Like Simenon, I'm too lazy to actually look up the quote.) But for the most part, the book moves quickly and provides more meat than usual … it's a functional Quiznos sandwich to the frozen pizza of Maigret's Boyhood Friend. The essential pointlessness of reading, much less reviewing, Simenon nowadays gives me additional satisfaction. I like to imagine I now have something to talk about with French pensioners in their 80s. However, this is probably much like my misguided notion that I'm down with Black people because I've read Zora Neale Hurston and have the DVD set of "Good Times." I'm so Black!
Review by Hamish Sandwich |