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Red Lights
It is Friday evening before Labor Day weekend. Americans are hitting the highways in droves; the radio crackles with warnings of traffic jams and crashed cars. Steve Hogan and his wife, Nancy, have a long drive ahead—from New York City to Maine, where their children are in camp. But Steve wants a drink before they go, and on the road he wants another. Soon, exploding with suppressed fury, he is heading into that dark place in himself he calls “the tunnel.” When Steve stops for yet another drink, Nancy has had enough. She leaves the car.
On a bender now, Steve makes a friend: Sid Halligan, an escapee from Sing Sing. Steve tells Sid all about Nancy. Most men are scared, Steve thinks, but not Sid.
The next day, Steve wakes up on the side of the road. His car has a flat, his money is gone, and there’s one more thing still left for him to learn about Nancy, Sid Halligan, and himself.
On a bender now, Steve makes a friend: Sid Halligan, an escapee from Sing Sing. Steve tells Sid all about Nancy. Most men are scared, Steve thinks, but not Sid.
The next day, Steve wakes up on the side of the road. His car has a flat, his money is gone, and there’s one more thing still left for him to learn about Nancy, Sid Halligan, and himself.
154 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1953
About the author
Georges Simenon
1,962 books1,994 followersGeorges Joseph Christian Simenon (1903 – 1989) was a Belgian writer. A prolific author who published nearly 500 novels and numerous short works, Simenon is best known as the creator of the fictional detective Jules Maigret.
Although he never resided in Belgium after 1922, he remained a Belgian citizen throughout his life.
Simenon was one of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century, capable of writing 60 to 80 pages per day. His oeuvre includes nearly 200 novels, over 150 novellas, several autobiographical works, numerous articles, and scores of pulp novels written under more than two dozen pseudonyms. Altogether, about 550 million copies of his works have been printed.
He is best known, however, for his 75 novels and 28 short stories featuring Commissaire Maigret. The first novel in the series, Pietr-le-Letton, appeared in 1931; the last one, Maigret et M. Charles, was published in 1972. The Maigret novels were translated into all major languages and several of them were turned into films and radio plays. Two television series (1960-63 and 1992-93) have been made in Great Britain.
During his "American" period, Simenon reached the height of his creative powers, and several novels of those years were inspired by the context in which they were written (Trois chambres à Manhattan (1946), Maigret à New York (1947), Maigret se fâche (1947)).
Simenon also wrote a large number of "psychological novels", such as La neige était sale (1948) or Le fils (1957), as well as several autobiographical works, in particular Je me souviens (1945), Pedigree (1948), Mémoires intimes (1981).
In 1966, Simenon was given the MWA's highest honor, the Grand Master Award.
In 2005 he was nominated for the title of De Grootste Belg (The Greatest Belgian). In the Flemish version he ended 77th place. In the Walloon version he ended 10th place.
Although he never resided in Belgium after 1922, he remained a Belgian citizen throughout his life.
Simenon was one of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century, capable of writing 60 to 80 pages per day. His oeuvre includes nearly 200 novels, over 150 novellas, several autobiographical works, numerous articles, and scores of pulp novels written under more than two dozen pseudonyms. Altogether, about 550 million copies of his works have been printed.
He is best known, however, for his 75 novels and 28 short stories featuring Commissaire Maigret. The first novel in the series, Pietr-le-Letton, appeared in 1931; the last one, Maigret et M. Charles, was published in 1972. The Maigret novels were translated into all major languages and several of them were turned into films and radio plays. Two television series (1960-63 and 1992-93) have been made in Great Britain.
During his "American" period, Simenon reached the height of his creative powers, and several novels of those years were inspired by the context in which they were written (Trois chambres à Manhattan (1946), Maigret à New York (1947), Maigret se fâche (1947)).
Simenon also wrote a large number of "psychological novels", such as La neige était sale (1948) or Le fils (1957), as well as several autobiographical works, in particular Je me souviens (1945), Pedigree (1948), Mémoires intimes (1981).
In 1966, Simenon was given the MWA's highest honor, the Grand Master Award.
In 2005 he was nominated for the title of De Grootste Belg (The Greatest Belgian). In the Flemish version he ended 77th place. In the Walloon version he ended 10th place.
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April 27, 2023
Red Lights by Belgian author Georges Simenon takes place in 1950s America, where nearly everyone drives a car and the highways are jam packed. And that's Red Lights as in all the red tail lights a driver sees when driving at night. “What got on his nerves was the incessant hum of wheels on either side of him, the headlights rushing to meet him every hundred yards, and also the sensation of being caught in a tide, with no way of escaping either to right or to left, or even of driving more slowly, because his mirror showed a triple string of lights following bumper-to-bumper behind him.”
Red Lights is vintage Simenon, a psychological study of a man pushed beyond his normal limits and conventional day-to-day routine, the type of non-Inspector Maigret novel the author himself termed romans durs or “hard novel,” as in hard on both his characters within the novel and readers of the novel. And it’s the sequence of psychological states of main character Steve Hogan during the time leading up to the story’s dramatic crisis I find particularly fascinating.
Steve’s private term – “going into the tunnel” – not a fit of rage but a slow burn down, a subterranean brick and mortar passageway into the dark recesses of his own psyche with prods, presses and jabs from the suffocating outside world serving as the bricks and intake of hard liquor as the mortar.
It all started in Manhattan after a long hot day at the office – as per usual, Steve meets his wife Nancy at their favorite midtown watering hole and, also as per usual, Nancy looks as fresh as fresh can be while Steve knows he looks like a sweaty beaten down dog. It’s the evening they will have to drive up to Maine to bring their two kids back from summer camp. Highway hell in the summer. Doesn’t this rate another drink? Nope. Nancy can sense he wants one for the road and tells him its time to leave.
Bumper-to-bumper traffic as soon as they get in their car and head for home on Long Island before the long trip north. No problem – once home Steve tells Nancy he’ll be back in a minute after he fills up the tank with gas and has the tires checked. While the car is being taken care of at the station, Steve pops in at a bar next door to have some whiskey. Steve knows he gets more annoyed with Nancy after he drinks but, damn, he has a hellish drive ahead of him.
Steve and Nancy get on the road with thousands of other cars crawling along in traffic; Steve can see each car has another Steve or Bill behind the wheel and another Nancy or Mary in the passenger seat. Enough to make a guy feel like a faceless nobody. And Nancy doesn’t have to give orders - map on her lap, Steve knows she is the one in charge, the one who will always know which turn to make and which roads to take. Switching from one slow lane to another even slower lane, one thing’s for sure – Steve needs another drink.
Back in the car, after his much needed drink (actually two stiff drinks), feeling manlier than ever, Steve has his own ideas about which way they should turn. Do you want to start a quarrel, Nancy? And don’t tell me I nearly went off the road! Simenon writes: “He was laboriously struggling to express something he felt, which he was convinced he had felt every day of his life throughout the eleven years they had been married. It was not the first time it happened, but now he was sure he had made a discovery that would enable him to explain everything. She would have to understand sometime, wouldn’t she? And the day she understood, maybe she’d try and treat him like a grown man.”
A few more bad turns, miles away from the main highway, Steve demands to stop for yet another drink. Nancy threatens if he does stop, she will leave. Steve stops, walks in the bar, knowing he has to teach Nancy a lesson. After a few much needed shots, Steve returns to his car – Nancy is gone. But he does have a passenger – one Sid Halligan, an escapee from Sing Sing prison. Turns out, Steve finds somebody he can really talk to, someone who appreciates and understands sometimes it is necessary to “go off the tracks.”
What makes Simenon a great writer is his uncanny ability to make every single sentence count. We live through Steve’s going into his tunnel and off the tracks – Steve’s every move, his every thought, his shifting liquor-fueled emotions and feelings. Roger Ebert judged Simenon’s prose style as pure as running water. And as Anita Brookner writes in her Introduction: “Simenon deliberately scaled down his vocabulary to ensure that no potential reader, however humble, was excluded.” Are you an avid Simenon fan? Are you new to Simenon? Either way, Red Lights will make for one rewarding read, and that's for certain.
"He needed a mouthful of whiskey if he was to drive even passably well. His very safety required it. He was so feverish that he was continually afraid of jerking the wheel and colliding with the cars in the next lane." -- Georges Simenon, Red Lights
May 2, 2015
Rating: 4* of five
The Publisher Says: It is Friday evening before Labor Day weekend. Americans are hitting the highways in droves; the radio crackles with warnings of traffic jams and crashed cars. Steve Hogan and his wife, Nancy, have a long drive ahead—from New York City to Maine, where their children are in camp. But Steve wants a drink before they go, and on the road he wants another. Soon, exploding with suppressed fury, he is heading into that dark place in himself he calls “the tunnel.” When Steve stops for yet another drink, Nancy has had enough. She leaves the car.
On a bender now, Steve makes a friend: Sid Halligan, an escapee from Sing Sing. Steve tells Sid all about Nancy. Most men are scared, Steve thinks, but not Sid.
The next day, Steve wakes up on the side of the road. His car has a flat, his money is gone, and there’s one more thing still left for him to learn about Nancy, Sid Halligan, and himself.
My Review: Norman Denny's translations are the kind of jobs I and my bookish kin adore when we find them: transparent. There isn't any evidence of the book being written in any language but English.
*happy sigh*
The book's plot isn't much, and I don't think that was accidental. Instead, it felt to me like the author's intention to examine the futility of modern America.
In the 1950s the modern-modern, computerized, small government and big truck fan world were a-bornin' and no one knew that to expect. Naturally enough, as the future resists being pinned down. The fact that Simenon, a Belgian gentleman of a certain age, had seen enough history to know what was coming. Short,amusing, solidly built...the kind of book I eat like olives. Too many to be good for me, too salty not to drool after.
Don't drool, get the book and start. You'll be about 2 hours happily stitched to your reading furniture.
The Publisher Says: It is Friday evening before Labor Day weekend. Americans are hitting the highways in droves; the radio crackles with warnings of traffic jams and crashed cars. Steve Hogan and his wife, Nancy, have a long drive ahead—from New York City to Maine, where their children are in camp. But Steve wants a drink before they go, and on the road he wants another. Soon, exploding with suppressed fury, he is heading into that dark place in himself he calls “the tunnel.” When Steve stops for yet another drink, Nancy has had enough. She leaves the car.
On a bender now, Steve makes a friend: Sid Halligan, an escapee from Sing Sing. Steve tells Sid all about Nancy. Most men are scared, Steve thinks, but not Sid.
The next day, Steve wakes up on the side of the road. His car has a flat, his money is gone, and there’s one more thing still left for him to learn about Nancy, Sid Halligan, and himself.
My Review: Norman Denny's translations are the kind of jobs I and my bookish kin adore when we find them: transparent. There isn't any evidence of the book being written in any language but English.
*happy sigh*
The book's plot isn't much, and I don't think that was accidental. Instead, it felt to me like the author's intention to examine the futility of modern America.
In the 1950s the modern-modern, computerized, small government and big truck fan world were a-bornin' and no one knew that to expect. Naturally enough, as the future resists being pinned down. The fact that Simenon, a Belgian gentleman of a certain age, had seen enough history to know what was coming. Short,amusing, solidly built...the kind of book I eat like olives. Too many to be good for me, too salty not to drool after.
Don't drool, get the book and start. You'll be about 2 hours happily stitched to your reading furniture.
August 27, 2019
Un bel romanzo psicologico –Simenon raramente delude- ma non eccezionale. In poche pagine lo scrittore racconta, nel tempo di un weekend, la crisi di una coppia soffocata all’interno dei “binari” delle regole e delle abitudini della vita quotidiana, impegnata nel lavoro, nella cura dei figli e nella cura della casa. La crisi non è raccontata tanto a parole quanto a gesti ed azioni dei protagonisti: Steve, un uomo mediocre imbavagliato nei riti della quotidianità, è irresistibilmente attirato nel tunnel, come si legge nella prima riga del romanzo, del whisky, si ubriaca e solo in quei momenti affiora il suo inconscio che esprime tutte le frustrazioni e il rancore verso una moglie più brava di lui sul lavoro, con più successo, sempre perfetta e ligia alle regole. Cosa può accadere quando la coppia si mette in viaggio in auto verso il Maine per andare a riprendere i figli nel campeggio estivo e Steve, a stretto contatto con Nancy e vergognandosi per i suoi rimproveri per la quantità di alcool che beve, sente sempre più forte il bisogno di entrare nel tunnel? Il loro viaggio non è solo quello stradale, nella notte, incolonnati con altri migliaia di automobilisti su strade tutte uguali in cui è facile perdersi, ma è anche e soprattutto un viaggio interiore, che ha fermate ed incontri drammatici, il cui esito potrà essere soltanto o il ritrovare sé stessi, i propri sentimenti rimasti soffocati nel solito ritmo di vita di ogni giorno, oppure l’affondare sempre di più nella crisi. In genere in Simenon c’è sempre un punto di svolta, un evento inaspettato che farà cambiare il corso degli eventi: in questo romanzo c’è sì un evento drammatico che sconvolge la coppia e provoca una reazione, ma non è così inaspettato, ed è stato questo a lasciarmi un po’ delusa. Per il resto un grande Simenon, come sempre.
August 5, 2017
Somewhere I read that Georges Simenon’s novels are addictive and while I was reading this (my first of his) I found myself relating to his millions of fans. Somewhat. His writing is full of precise detail (not too simple nor too complex) and mild suspense and with almost exactly twenty pages to every chapter, it is easy to zip straight through without stopping. It’s very “visual” and compelling and imbued with a true sense of place. If you’ve ever driven north along I-95 through Connecticut you’ll recognize it here immediately:
”The road was wide, smooth, splendid, built as though for the triumph of an emperor, with its white lines defining three lanes of traffic in either direction, pinewoods extending on either side as far as the eye could see, and the blue sky becoming mother-of-pearl over to the right, where perhaps, not very far away, the white fringe of the sea rolled up onto the beach.”
That particular strip of interstate highway still looks like that today, pinewoods and all.
What saved me from becoming a Simenon junkie was his The Widow. I read that immediately after this one and, well, it totally harshed my mellow. Once you see misogyny in a writer, you can’t un-see it. I’ll go more into that when (if) I write a review for that one. It’s not as overt here, but it still hovers in the background. The opposite side of the same coin is more fully on display in this one: Simenon’s obsession with being a “real man”. It’s spoken through his protagonist here, but it seems it to be a consistent theme for Simenon.
”This was the way he had always imagined a dialogue between two men, real men, coming together on the highways. No unnecessary words. Every sentence meaning as much as a long speech.”
”They make rules that they call laws, and they call sin anything that scares them in other people. That’s the truth, brother! If they didn’t shake in their boots, if they were real men, they’d have no need for police forces and law courts, for preachers and churches, no need for banks, for life-insurance, for Sunday schools and red and green lights at the street corners.”
That manly-man stuff doesn’t interest me at all, but I did appreciate the rest of the ride.
”The road was wide, smooth, splendid, built as though for the triumph of an emperor, with its white lines defining three lanes of traffic in either direction, pinewoods extending on either side as far as the eye could see, and the blue sky becoming mother-of-pearl over to the right, where perhaps, not very far away, the white fringe of the sea rolled up onto the beach.”
That particular strip of interstate highway still looks like that today, pinewoods and all.
What saved me from becoming a Simenon junkie was his The Widow. I read that immediately after this one and, well, it totally harshed my mellow. Once you see misogyny in a writer, you can’t un-see it. I’ll go more into that when (if) I write a review for that one. It’s not as overt here, but it still hovers in the background. The opposite side of the same coin is more fully on display in this one: Simenon’s obsession with being a “real man”. It’s spoken through his protagonist here, but it seems it to be a consistent theme for Simenon.
”This was the way he had always imagined a dialogue between two men, real men, coming together on the highways. No unnecessary words. Every sentence meaning as much as a long speech.”
”They make rules that they call laws, and they call sin anything that scares them in other people. That’s the truth, brother! If they didn’t shake in their boots, if they were real men, they’d have no need for police forces and law courts, for preachers and churches, no need for banks, for life-insurance, for Sunday schools and red and green lights at the street corners.”
That manly-man stuff doesn’t interest me at all, but I did appreciate the rest of the ride.
April 6, 2020
This short novel by Belgian author Georges Simenon contains some elements that I typically enjoy. I enjoy stories about road trips that go awry, for example; stories that involve the Greyhound in any way; stories about road trips that go awry because the traveler(s) picks up some disreputable or dangerous person; stories about drinking and/or addiction; and I especially enjoy stories in which a buttoned-down person encounters the personification of his or her own Jungian shadow, and is both appalled and drawn towards him or her.
Furthermore, Simenon pulled me into the story quickly. It felt vivid and cinematic, and at the same time a little dreamlike. I was there on the highway with this couple, heading up to New England from New York, stuck in traffic; I thought I could hear the rain on the roof and the buzz of the radio, smell the exhaust, feel the sweat on my face...heck, it all made me want a drink myself. Pull over, Georges. I mean Steve, whatever your name is.
On the other hand, as much as I enjoy the idea of an identification/confrontation with the shadow, Simenon really hits us over the head with it. I would imagine that it's usually a subtle thing, somewhere on the edge of one's consciousness, and yet Steve expresses aloud his admiration for the criminal-type he soon finds riding next to him about twenty times. Steve has been drinking, true, and that tends to make one more voluble, but I think Simenon de-mystifies the mystery of identity just a little bit each time.
Perhaps it makes sense, though, because I think what I realized as I continued to read was that Simenon and I were interested in different things. He seemed less interested in the shadow than in how the relationship between this well-heeled married couple- yuppies, frankly- was going to change and evolve. Which is something I just found difficult to care about, personally. And so without giving any spoilers, I found the third act to be a little mawkish and anticlimactic. Then again, I kept turning the pages, didn't I?
March 24, 2020
Steve e Nancy sono una coppia come tante. Sposati da dieci anni, due figli. Si amano, a modo loro si amano. E si odiano, a modo loro si odiano.
Il racconto di una notte “ folle” on the road, mentre i due coniugi si mettono in viaggio per andare a prendere i figli al campeggio alla fine delle vacanze. Uno screzio, un bicchiere di troppo fanno letteralmente scoppiare anni di incomprensioni, di dispetti, di abbozzamenti, di una vita trascorsa “ sui binari” . Pagheranno caro entrambi la loro ribellione.
Le luci non sono solo quelle delle macchine che sfrecciano sulle corsie multiple delle strade americane graffiando il buio, sono le nuove luci che i due ritrovano dentro se stessi, per ricostruire una “ nuova” vita dopo il nero di una notte terribile.
Un Simenon fuori dalle righe, uno spettatore sul sedile dietro dell’auto che svela ansie, meschinità dell’animo umano ma che sa rinnovarsi, sempre.
Il racconto di una notte “ folle” on the road, mentre i due coniugi si mettono in viaggio per andare a prendere i figli al campeggio alla fine delle vacanze. Uno screzio, un bicchiere di troppo fanno letteralmente scoppiare anni di incomprensioni, di dispetti, di abbozzamenti, di una vita trascorsa “ sui binari” . Pagheranno caro entrambi la loro ribellione.
Le luci non sono solo quelle delle macchine che sfrecciano sulle corsie multiple delle strade americane graffiando il buio, sono le nuove luci che i due ritrovano dentro se stessi, per ricostruire una “ nuova” vita dopo il nero di una notte terribile.
Un Simenon fuori dalle righe, uno spettatore sul sedile dietro dell’auto che svela ansie, meschinità dell’animo umano ma che sa rinnovarsi, sempre.
August 12, 2016
Dated. As in, everybody smokes. Rye whiskey; make it a double. When it's warm, you drive with the windows open even if it's pouring rain. The rapist is brought to the hospital, in handcuffs, and shown to the victim so she can identify him; when he leaves, the news photographers are brought in to take photos of her. As the lieutenant warned her, "It's never a good idea to get on the wrong side of the Press."
Dated. As in little colored boys are trotted out like so many background silhouettes.
Dated. As in, they could make a really bad TV show out of this. You could watch it if there wasn't a storm and you jiggled the rabbit ears just right. The plot is shallow, but we don't need plot. Depth would suffice. But there's no more depth than there is air-conditioning.
There are eleven (at last count) 'novels' by Simenon in the NYRB catalog. Help. What am I missing?
Dated. As in little colored boys are trotted out like so many background silhouettes.
Dated. As in, they could make a really bad TV show out of this. You could watch it if there wasn't a storm and you jiggled the rabbit ears just right. The plot is shallow, but we don't need plot. Depth would suffice. But there's no more depth than there is air-conditioning.
There are eleven (at last count) 'novels' by Simenon in the NYRB catalog. Help. What am I missing?
July 8, 2023
Another drink
Forse mi ripeto ma neanche questa volta mi abbandona l’impressione che, rispetto ai consueti roman durs di Simenon, i racconti ambientati fuori dall’ambito franco-belga partano in qualche modo ad handicap, privi come sono delle particolari atmosfere che il maestro di Liegi sa infondere, siano esse urbane o rurali, sulla costa normanna o nei villaggi delle Ardenne.
Qui la componente paesaggio è limitata alle luci che circondano la strada percorsa verso Nord per lo più di notte fra Long Island e il Maine, luci prodotte dai fari delle auto che incrociano la vettura di Steve o dalle insegne luminose dei locali che si susseguono ai lati della carreggiata offrendo un intervallo di sosta o ancor meglio un altro drink al guidatore già in stato di alterazione.
Il fulcro del romanzo si sposta quindi dallo sfondo alla tensione crescente che sale nell’abitacolo sia quando è occupato da una coppia sia allorché è teatro delle ossessive e solitarie elucubrazioni mentali del protagonista, lui sì tipicamente simenoniano nell’amarezza e nel risentimento che lo pervadono e si dilatano in un’esaltazione febbrile carica delle frustrazioni di una vita condotta al di sotto delle aspettative, sempre compressa entro i binari da cui Steve vorrebbe evadere riuscendoci soltanto con la spinta dell’alcool.
Un viaggio interiore alla disperata ricerca di una svolta che, quando arriverà improvvisa e nel modo più inatteso, dovrebbe deflagrare o forse riappacificare la precedente esistenza e il carattere inappagato del torturato personaggio perennemente sfiduciato; il finale tuttavia mi è sembrato insoddisfacente e inferiore alle attese generate dalla lunga galoppata verso il nulla o verso l’eventualità che le ultime “luci della notte” a degna chiusura del romanzo potessero essere quelle del blu e rosso alternato sulle auto della polizia.
Forse mi ripeto ma neanche questa volta mi abbandona l’impressione che, rispetto ai consueti roman durs di Simenon, i racconti ambientati fuori dall’ambito franco-belga partano in qualche modo ad handicap, privi come sono delle particolari atmosfere che il maestro di Liegi sa infondere, siano esse urbane o rurali, sulla costa normanna o nei villaggi delle Ardenne.
Qui la componente paesaggio è limitata alle luci che circondano la strada percorsa verso Nord per lo più di notte fra Long Island e il Maine, luci prodotte dai fari delle auto che incrociano la vettura di Steve o dalle insegne luminose dei locali che si susseguono ai lati della carreggiata offrendo un intervallo di sosta o ancor meglio un altro drink al guidatore già in stato di alterazione.
Il fulcro del romanzo si sposta quindi dallo sfondo alla tensione crescente che sale nell’abitacolo sia quando è occupato da una coppia sia allorché è teatro delle ossessive e solitarie elucubrazioni mentali del protagonista, lui sì tipicamente simenoniano nell’amarezza e nel risentimento che lo pervadono e si dilatano in un’esaltazione febbrile carica delle frustrazioni di una vita condotta al di sotto delle aspettative, sempre compressa entro i binari da cui Steve vorrebbe evadere riuscendoci soltanto con la spinta dell’alcool.
Un viaggio interiore alla disperata ricerca di una svolta che, quando arriverà improvvisa e nel modo più inatteso, dovrebbe deflagrare o forse riappacificare la precedente esistenza e il carattere inappagato del torturato personaggio perennemente sfiduciato; il finale tuttavia mi è sembrato insoddisfacente e inferiore alle attese generate dalla lunga galoppata verso il nulla o verso l’eventualità che le ultime “luci della notte” a degna chiusura del romanzo potessero essere quelle del blu e rosso alternato sulle auto della polizia.
February 24, 2024
Celebrity Death Match Special: Feux rouges versus Oedipus Rex
I loved this book and could not it down, but I was a little surprised by the ending. I would hate to ruin anyone else's enjoyment by dropping spoilers, so let me just say that this is not quite the standard way to round off a Greek tragedy. On the other hand, what's wrong with it? I feel inspired to present my alternate conclusion to Oedipus Rex:
CHORAGOS
Surely my friend, we have now grief enough?
But say, forsooth, the words that you must say.
SECOND MESSENGER
The queen! Ah me, I know not how to tell—
CHORAGOS
Is dead?
SECOND MESSENGER
No, very much alive, 'tis passing strange
For she had shut herself into her room
I will you not deceive, we feared the worst
But then the king arrived, broke down the door.
The queen did lie upon her bed and wept
As though her heart would break. "Ah misery!"
She cried aloud, "'Twere best I'd ne'er been born!"
But our brave Oedipus was not afeared.
"Think of the kids, Jocasta," did he say
Our Polynices, Eteocles too
And Ismene and young Antigone
They need their parents, Joc, we must be strong.
Really I think this is a chance for us
To make a fresh new start. I do not care
If you were once my mom, it was so long
Ago we can well say that crime's proscribed
And as for killing dad, well, lah di dah
It's really not as bad as it may sound.
With these and other honeyed words did he
Comfort the queen in all her grief and pain
And soon she pulled him close and kissed him much—
I thought it best I then did take my leave.
CHORAGOS
Oh happy ending! This the crowd should please
And someone, break the news to Sophocles.
Both authors miraculously declared winners after appearance of last minute deus ex machina
I loved this book and could not it down, but I was a little surprised by the ending. I would hate to ruin anyone else's enjoyment by dropping spoilers, so let me just say that this is not quite the standard way to round off a Greek tragedy. On the other hand, what's wrong with it? I feel inspired to present my alternate conclusion to Oedipus Rex:
CHORAGOS
Surely my friend, we have now grief enough?
But say, forsooth, the words that you must say.
SECOND MESSENGER
The queen! Ah me, I know not how to tell—
CHORAGOS
Is dead?
SECOND MESSENGER
No, very much alive, 'tis passing strange
For she had shut herself into her room
I will you not deceive, we feared the worst
But then the king arrived, broke down the door.
The queen did lie upon her bed and wept
As though her heart would break. "Ah misery!"
She cried aloud, "'Twere best I'd ne'er been born!"
But our brave Oedipus was not afeared.
"Think of the kids, Jocasta," did he say
Our Polynices, Eteocles too
And Ismene and young Antigone
They need their parents, Joc, we must be strong.
Really I think this is a chance for us
To make a fresh new start. I do not care
If you were once my mom, it was so long
Ago we can well say that crime's proscribed
And as for killing dad, well, lah di dah
It's really not as bad as it may sound.
With these and other honeyed words did he
Comfort the queen in all her grief and pain
And soon she pulled him close and kissed him much—
I thought it best I then did take my leave.
CHORAGOS
Oh happy ending! This the crowd should please
And someone, break the news to Sophocles.
Both authors miraculously declared winners after appearance of last minute deus ex machina
July 18, 2024
Into the Tunnel
Review of the No Exit Books paperback edition (January 2, 2003) of a translation by Norman Denny originally published in the Hamish Hamilton omnibus edition Danger Ahead comprising: Red Lights and The Watchmaker of Everton (1955) of the French language original Feux rouges (1953).
During a mini-binge in 2022 I read those several of Simenon's non-Maigret novels which were easily available in current print, the new translations from Penguin Books. I was intrigued by Paul Ataua's recent 5-star review of Red Lights and I managed to source a nice used copy of a 2003 edition.
Nancy and Steve Hogan are making a Labour Day weekend trip from their home on Long Island, NY to bring their 2 children back from summer camp in Maine. Steve is entering one of his black moods and begins to use every opportunity on the road to sneak a drink. The couple argue and Nancy abandons Steve at a roadside bar, leaving a note in the car that she will take a bus instead. Steve continues to drink at the bar and makes an acquaintance of a stranger. Meanwhile the radio announces that there is an escaped convict from Sing Sing Prison in the vicinity. In his reckless urge to cut loose, Steve gives the stranger a ride.
Cover for the original French language edition published by Presses de la Cite in 1953. Image sourced from Goodreads.
Awakening from a drunken stupor next morning Steve is in his car at the side of the road with a flat tire and no wallet. Reaching a garage and phoning the summer camp he learns that his wife never arrived at the destination. Where is his wife and what happened to her? Steve begins a redemption journey out of his 'tunnel' but there are yet more horrors to discover.
A beat-up copy of the cover for the 1955 omnibus edition "Danger Ahead" which included "Red Lights". The cover shows the escaped criminal riding in the car with Steve Hogan. Image sourced from Goodreads.
This was a superb drama which built suspense very gradually from what began as a somewhat foolish alcoholic binge. I thought it was one of the best of Simenon.
Red Lights is the 8th of my readings of Georges Simenon's romans durs* (French: hard novels) which was his nickname for his non-Chief Inspector Maigret fiction. This is like Graham Greene, who divided his work into his "entertainments" and his actual "novels." Similar to Greene, the borders between the two areas are blurred as we are often still dealing with crime and the issues of morals and ethics. Simenon's romans durs are definitely in noir territory though, as compared to the sometimes lighter Maigrets where the often cantankerous Chief Inspector provides a solution and the guilty are brought to justice.
Trivia and Links
* There is an almost complete selection of 102 books in the Goodreads' Listopia of Simenon's romans durs which you can see here. Other sources say there are at least 117 of them, such as listed at Art and Popular Culture and in the Library Thing "Non-Maigret Series" listing.
Feux rouges was adapted for the same-titledFrench language film in 2004 directed by Cédric Kahn, starring Jean-Pierre Darroussin and Carole Bouquet. An English language subtitled trailer for the film can be seen on YouTube here.
There is a plot summary for Red Lights at its Wikipedia page here with plot spoilers obviously.
Review of the No Exit Books paperback edition (January 2, 2003) of a translation by Norman Denny originally published in the Hamish Hamilton omnibus edition Danger Ahead comprising: Red Lights and The Watchmaker of Everton (1955) of the French language original Feux rouges (1953).
He called it 'going into the tunnel', an expression of his own, for his private use, which he never used in talking to anyone else, least of all to his wife.
During a mini-binge in 2022 I read those several of Simenon's non-Maigret novels which were easily available in current print, the new translations from Penguin Books. I was intrigued by Paul Ataua's recent 5-star review of Red Lights and I managed to source a nice used copy of a 2003 edition.
Nancy and Steve Hogan are making a Labour Day weekend trip from their home on Long Island, NY to bring their 2 children back from summer camp in Maine. Steve is entering one of his black moods and begins to use every opportunity on the road to sneak a drink. The couple argue and Nancy abandons Steve at a roadside bar, leaving a note in the car that she will take a bus instead. Steve continues to drink at the bar and makes an acquaintance of a stranger. Meanwhile the radio announces that there is an escaped convict from Sing Sing Prison in the vicinity. In his reckless urge to cut loose, Steve gives the stranger a ride.
Cover for the original French language edition published by Presses de la Cite in 1953. Image sourced from Goodreads.
Awakening from a drunken stupor next morning Steve is in his car at the side of the road with a flat tire and no wallet. Reaching a garage and phoning the summer camp he learns that his wife never arrived at the destination. Where is his wife and what happened to her? Steve begins a redemption journey out of his 'tunnel' but there are yet more horrors to discover.
A beat-up copy of the cover for the 1955 omnibus edition "Danger Ahead" which included "Red Lights". The cover shows the escaped criminal riding in the car with Steve Hogan. Image sourced from Goodreads.
This was a superb drama which built suspense very gradually from what began as a somewhat foolish alcoholic binge. I thought it was one of the best of Simenon.
Red Lights is the 8th of my readings of Georges Simenon's romans durs* (French: hard novels) which was his nickname for his non-Chief Inspector Maigret fiction. This is like Graham Greene, who divided his work into his "entertainments" and his actual "novels." Similar to Greene, the borders between the two areas are blurred as we are often still dealing with crime and the issues of morals and ethics. Simenon's romans durs are definitely in noir territory though, as compared to the sometimes lighter Maigrets where the often cantankerous Chief Inspector provides a solution and the guilty are brought to justice.
Trivia and Links
* There is an almost complete selection of 102 books in the Goodreads' Listopia of Simenon's romans durs which you can see here. Other sources say there are at least 117 of them, such as listed at Art and Popular Culture and in the Library Thing "Non-Maigret Series" listing.
Feux rouges was adapted for the same-titledFrench language film in 2004 directed by Cédric Kahn, starring Jean-Pierre Darroussin and Carole Bouquet. An English language subtitled trailer for the film can be seen on YouTube here.
There is a plot summary for Red Lights at its Wikipedia page here with plot spoilers obviously.
September 18, 2016
Το "Κόκκινα φώτα", το τέταρτο βιβλίο του Ζορζ Σιμενόν που διαβάζω, ανήκει στην κατηγορία των κοινωνικών και "σκληρών" αστυνομικών μυθιστορημάτων του συγγραφέα, όπου πρωταγωνιστές είναι άνθρωποι της διπλανής μας πόρτας, με τα προβλήματα και τις ανάγκες τους, που μπλέκονται σε διάφορες δύσκολες και περίεργες καταστάσεις. Ο Σιμενόν είναι γνωστός για την δημιουργία του Επιθεωρητή Μαιγκρέ, όμως κάτι τέτοια βιβλία είναι που τον κάνουν μεγάλο λογοτεχνικό όνομα και εκτός του αστυνομικού είδους.
Δεκαετία του '50, στις Ηνωμένες Πολιτείες, βρισκόμαστε στο τελευταίο Σαββατοκύριακο του καλοκαιριού. Ο Στιβ και η Νάνσι, αντρόγυνο από την Νέα Υόρκη, ξεκινούν με το αυτοκίνητο για να πάρουν τα δυο τους παιδιά από μια κατασκήνωση στο Μέιν. Η κυκλοφορία στις εθνικές οδούς είναι ασφυκτική. Το ίδιο και η ατμόσφαιρα μέσα στο αυτοκίνητο, όπου το ζευγάρι κουβαλάει όλη την ένταση της πεζής καθημερινότητάς του. Ώσπου ένας καταζητούμενος δραπέτης θα μετατρέψει το ταξίδι των δυο αυτών ανθρώπων σ'έναν πραγματικό εφιάλτη. Ίσως, όμως, η εμφάνισή του να σημάνει μια νέα αρχή...
Ο Σιμενόν, λιτά αλλά περιεκτικά και διεισδυτικά, καταφέρνει να περιγράψει την ζωή ενός ζευγαριού. Πως η μονότονη, βαρετή και ίσως μάταιη καθημερινότητα των δυο τους, έχει οδηγήσει την σχέση τους σ'ένα τέλμα. Η πλοκή είναι απλή και δεν κρύβει πολλές εκπλήξεις, είναι όμως γεμάτη ένταση και αγωνία για την συνέχεια, και, συν τοις άλλοις, μέσω αυτής, βλέπουμε και την ζωή στις Ηνωμένες Πολιτείες την δεκαετία του '50. Πραγματικά, οι περιγραφές των χαρακτήρων και των σκέψεων τους, των τοπίων και των διάφορων σκηνικών, είναι εξαιρετικές. Η ατμόσφαιρα νουάρ και κάπως μελαγχολική.
Γενικά είναι ένα εξαιρετικά ενδιαφέρον και καλογραμμένο κοινωνικό μυθιστόρημα με λίγα στοιχεία εγκλήματος, που καταφέρνει να κάνει τον αναγνώστη ένα με τον κεντρικό χαρακτήρα και τα προβλήματά του. Κάτι τέτοια "αστυνομικά" βιβλία είναι που μου αρέσουν πάρα πολύ. Γιατί, ναι μεν συνήθως έχουν ικανοποιητική πλοκή (χωρίς, όμως, πολλές πολυπλοκότητες), όμως κύριο μέλημά τους είναι η εξέταση διαφόρων κοινωνικών θεμάτων. Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα εμβαθύνω ακόμα περισσότερο στο έργο του Σιμενόν. Είναι ένας συγγραφέας αντάξιος της φήμης του.
Δεκαετία του '50, στις Ηνωμένες Πολιτείες, βρισκόμαστε στο τελευταίο Σαββατοκύριακο του καλοκαιριού. Ο Στιβ και η Νάνσι, αντρόγυνο από την Νέα Υόρκη, ξεκινούν με το αυτοκίνητο για να πάρουν τα δυο τους παιδιά από μια κατασκήνωση στο Μέιν. Η κυκλοφορία στις εθνικές οδούς είναι ασφυκτική. Το ίδιο και η ατμόσφαιρα μέσα στο αυτοκίνητο, όπου το ζευγάρι κουβαλάει όλη την ένταση της πεζής καθημερινότητάς του. Ώσπου ένας καταζητούμενος δραπέτης θα μετατρέψει το ταξίδι των δυο αυτών ανθρώπων σ'έναν πραγματικό εφιάλτη. Ίσως, όμως, η εμφάνισή του να σημάνει μια νέα αρχή...
Ο Σιμενόν, λιτά αλλά περιεκτικά και διεισδυτικά, καταφέρνει να περιγράψει την ζωή ενός ζευγαριού. Πως η μονότονη, βαρετή και ίσως μάταιη καθημερινότητα των δυο τους, έχει οδηγήσει την σχέση τους σ'ένα τέλμα. Η πλοκή είναι απλή και δεν κρύβει πολλές εκπλήξεις, είναι όμως γεμάτη ένταση και αγωνία για την συνέχεια, και, συν τοις άλλοις, μέσω αυτής, βλέπουμε και την ζωή στις Ηνωμένες Πολιτείες την δεκαετία του '50. Πραγματικά, οι περιγραφές των χαρακτήρων και των σκέψεων τους, των τοπίων και των διάφορων σκηνικών, είναι εξαιρετικές. Η ατμόσφαιρα νουάρ και κάπως μελαγχολική.
Γενικά είναι ένα εξαιρετικά ενδιαφέρον και καλογραμμένο κοινωνικό μυθιστόρημα με λίγα στοιχεία εγκλήματος, που καταφέρνει να κάνει τον αναγνώστη ένα με τον κεντρικό χαρακτήρα και τα προβλήματά του. Κάτι τέτοια "αστυνομικά" βιβλία είναι που μου αρέσουν πάρα πολύ. Γιατί, ναι μεν συνήθως έχουν ικανοποιητική πλοκή (χωρίς, όμως, πολλές πολυπλοκότητες), όμως κύριο μέλημά τους είναι η εξέταση διαφόρων κοινωνικών θεμάτων. Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα εμβαθύνω ακόμα περισσότερο στο έργο του Σιμενόν. Είναι ένας συγγραφέας αντάξιος της φήμης του.
August 24, 2016
There was a genuine weirdness for most of this that you look for in great literature. The novel is set in the 1950s. A typical middle class couple, Steve and Nancy, meet at a Long Island bar for a drink, before heading up to Maine -- it's Labor Day weekend, and the traffic sucks -- to pick up their two kids at summer camp. We are reminded repeatedly that 45 million people hit the roads on this weekend. (I was bit surprised at the number even in the 1950s.) That fact, along with overall 1950s regimentation of American life, is obviously what Simenon is taking aim at. But buzzing around the tedious edges of this existence are news reports of an escaped convict from Sing Sing. A violent man on the run. The stress is out there, and Steve sees the need to pull over for another drink. Make that a double! Steve and Nancy's road to hell has begun.
In the very first sentence of "Red Lights," Steve tells us that such dark excursions are like going "into the tunnel." Clearly he's been there before. In fact, everything you need to know about Steve is contained in the first short paragraph of the novel. (When it comes to conciseness, Simenon is a master.) Steve's the classic unreliable narrator. You simply can't believe his accounts of events. You are told repeatedly that he's not an alcoholic, but I don't think I've ever read a more accurate, from the inside out, description of going on a bender. The rationalizations, the repeated drinking, the increasingly surreal conversations and events. What may be different this time is that there are consequences for those other than Steve. I would have rated this one higher, 4 or even 5 stars, but the ending seemed flat or pat or maybe a bit rushed. This could have been a result of Simenon's rapid composition style or it's just simply dated. But for 3/4 of the book, especially the various bar scenes, I thought I was reading a novel by David Lynch. And that's a good and creepy thing.
In the very first sentence of "Red Lights," Steve tells us that such dark excursions are like going "into the tunnel." Clearly he's been there before. In fact, everything you need to know about Steve is contained in the first short paragraph of the novel. (When it comes to conciseness, Simenon is a master.) Steve's the classic unreliable narrator. You simply can't believe his accounts of events. You are told repeatedly that he's not an alcoholic, but I don't think I've ever read a more accurate, from the inside out, description of going on a bender. The rationalizations, the repeated drinking, the increasingly surreal conversations and events. What may be different this time is that there are consequences for those other than Steve. I would have rated this one higher, 4 or even 5 stars, but the ending seemed flat or pat or maybe a bit rushed. This could have been a result of Simenon's rapid composition style or it's just simply dated. But for 3/4 of the book, especially the various bar scenes, I thought I was reading a novel by David Lynch. And that's a good and creepy thing.
May 12, 2020
Ένα από τα πιο καλογραμμένα 'σκληρά' μυθιστορήματα του Σιμενόν, όπου καταγράφεται η νευρωτική ζωή στην αμερικάνικη μεγαλούπολη με την εφιαλτική κίνηση στις απέραντες λεωφόρους και την έλλειψη επικοινωνίας στους ανθρώπους που προκάλεσε η μ��τα��ολεμική βιομηχανοποίηση και η πρόοδος της τεχνολογίας. Υπάρχουν έντονα στοιχεία ψυχολογικού θρίλερ και ψυχοδράματος, ωστόσο, κάποιους, ίσως, κουράσουν οι πολλοί διάλογοι και οι λεπτομέρειες που αναφέρονται στη σχέση του ζευγαριού - πάντως, ενσωματώνονται αρκετά ουσιαστικά στη ροή της πλοκής.
Πρόκειται για ένα εφιαλτικό road trip, κατά τη διάρκεια του οποίου δοκιμάζονται τα 'νεύρα' των αναγνωστών, όσο και η αποφασιστικότητα του δραπέτη-εγκληματία που καταδιώκει το ζευγάρι των κεντρικών ηρώων.
Βαθμολογία: 4,3/5 ή 8,6/10.
Θα γίνει και εκτενέστερη κριτική του βιβλίου.
Πρόκειται για ένα εφιαλτικό road trip, κατά τη διάρκεια του οποίου δοκιμάζονται τα 'νεύρα' των αναγνωστών, όσο και η αποφασιστικότητα του δραπέτη-εγκληματία που καταδιώκει το ζευγάρι των κεντρικών ηρώων.
Βαθμολογία: 4,3/5 ή 8,6/10.
Θα γίνει και εκτενέστερη κριτική του βιβλίου.
June 5, 2015
Do you understand that it's only today that we will begin to live?
An utterance from a broken-down wife as she speaks to her alcoholic husband while recuperating from a physical/sexual assault. As she blames herself, who's really responsible? Her for leaving him as he enters 'the tunnel', a non-forgiving, non-caring, one-sided affair or him for taking their lives for granted? Not expecting a resurgence of undoubted emotion and panic once she's gone?
The story begins with a couple going to pick up their two children from a summer camp in Maine from New York City, but what happens during the trip will affect these two parents who have forgotten how to love one another.
An underlying story of selfishness and forgiving within a mystery, Simenon shows why he's not only a writer of Maigret; expounding on the human psyche in an emotional, yet straight-forward way.
An utterance from a broken-down wife as she speaks to her alcoholic husband while recuperating from a physical/sexual assault. As she blames herself, who's really responsible? Her for leaving him as he enters 'the tunnel', a non-forgiving, non-caring, one-sided affair or him for taking their lives for granted? Not expecting a resurgence of undoubted emotion and panic once she's gone?
The story begins with a couple going to pick up their two children from a summer camp in Maine from New York City, but what happens during the trip will affect these two parents who have forgotten how to love one another.
An underlying story of selfishness and forgiving within a mystery, Simenon shows why he's not only a writer of Maigret; expounding on the human psyche in an emotional, yet straight-forward way.
November 13, 2019
Simenon packed so much into this slight work: driving along the east coast on a summer Friday, marital dynamics, frustrated masculinity, alcoholism, and the discontents of the good life in 50s America, especially New York. I gobbled it in one sitting.
And then: the wife's rape is both epiphany for the husband and is to serve as the catalyst for their improved, happier marriage. Faugh. My reaction is outrage. Even for a book of its time, this offends.
And then: the wife's rape is both epiphany for the husband and is to serve as the catalyst for their improved, happier marriage. Faugh. My reaction is outrage. Even for a book of its time, this offends.
January 21, 2018
Noir dall’atmosfera interessante, Luci nella Notte, racconta la vicenda di una coppia tra le autostrade americane. Tutto avviene in una notte, le maschere dei due protagonisti si alzeranno fino ad arrivare al climax finale che funge da fulcro di “redenzione”.
Per quanto il libro sia molto scorrevole e magnetico mi aspettavo qualcosa in più, ho trovato il finale semplicistico sopratutto per quel che riguarda la reazione della moglie, ma entrambi cambiano repentinamente senza delle vere ragioni profonde, non mi ha convinta fino in fondo.
Per quanto il libro sia molto scorrevole e magnetico mi aspettavo qualcosa in più, ho trovato il finale semplicistico sopratutto per quel che riguarda la reazione della moglie, ma entrambi cambiano repentinamente senza delle vere ragioni profonde, non mi ha convinta fino in fondo.
September 6, 2023
Nefis bir Simenon romanı daha. Gizem ve gerilimin bu kadar etkili verilebilmesi takdire şayan.
Bir çok Simenon romanında olduğu gibi, iletişimsizliğin sonuçları, duyarsızlık ve kaybedildikten sonra farkına varılan değerler üzerine… Sürpriz son şaşırtıyor.
Çok çok beğendim.
Bir çok Simenon romanında olduğu gibi, iletişimsizliğin sonuçları, duyarsızlık ve kaybedildikten sonra farkına varılan değerler üzerine… Sürpriz son şaşırtıyor.
Çok çok beğendim.
March 23, 2013
No breaks in the tension, no letup, a single-sitting read in 150 pages that feels alternately like no time is elapsing, or like a lifetime lashed to the wheel. A family roadtrip upstate, circa 1953, set on the east coast of the United States... goes off the tracks.
Tension leads to white-knuckle dread, in the traditional noir vein wherein familiar turns strange, the rules have all changed, and the options are disappearing by the minute. I think the word 'harrowing' does it justice. Put this one on that shelf that bows under the weight of thin novels that instill fear... Mildred Pierce, and Thérèse Raquin. Spellbinding, brutal.
Tension leads to white-knuckle dread, in the traditional noir vein wherein familiar turns strange, the rules have all changed, and the options are disappearing by the minute. I think the word 'harrowing' does it justice. Put this one on that shelf that bows under the weight of thin novels that instill fear... Mildred Pierce, and Thérèse Raquin. Spellbinding, brutal.
October 18, 2017
Il libro (un regalo di Ortensia: e quindi ancora grazie Ort!!) si è rivelato essere un Simenon di quelli "at his best!" anche se forse non al top. Appartiene alla sua produzione "americana" (a cavallo tra gli anni 40 e 50 si era trasferito in USA) e, benchè scritto in francese, è pienamente calato nel clima della letteratura americana: un noir "on the road" con tanto di autostrade affollate nel classico week-end di fine estate (quando si va a riprendere i figli dal campeggio estivo), di piccoli bar lungo le strade, dove si beve quel goccio di troppo che ti fa perdere la strada e dove può capitare che si facciano strani incontri, nella voglia di fraternizzare col vicino al bancone, come quello con un evaso da sing-sing che poi ti puoi trovare per caso sul sedile posteriore in macchina...
Mi fermo qui.
Per aggiungere solo che la trama “thriller” non è che un pretesto per indagare tra i rapporti di coppia nel moderno mondo occidentale, là dove il ricorso all’alcol (la luce artificiale momentanea di un bar sulla strada) spesso è il paravento dietro al quale nascondere le proprie frustrazioni ed evitare un sano e sincero confronto con il coniuge, che porterebbe ben maggiori frutti. Quelle luci vere e naturali di una “nuova alba” che sole possono illuminare realmente le tenebre di una notte da incubo.
Mi fermo qui.
Per aggiungere solo che la trama “thriller” non è che un pretesto per indagare tra i rapporti di coppia nel moderno mondo occidentale, là dove il ricorso all’alcol (la luce artificiale momentanea di un bar sulla strada) spesso è il paravento dietro al quale nascondere le proprie frustrazioni ed evitare un sano e sincero confronto con il coniuge, che porterebbe ben maggiori frutti. Quelle luci vere e naturali di una “nuova alba” che sole possono illuminare realmente le tenebre di una notte da incubo.
January 19, 2012
Until reading The Man Who Wasn't Maigret yesterday I had never really felt any urge to read a Simenon that wasn't a Maigret but the amount of praise heaped upon his roman dur oeuvre and collected in his biography I knew this would be the next thing I read.
A dark noir-like tale of one mans weaknesses and the unravelling of a life over one reckless night reminding me of both David Goodis (a recent discovery of mine) and the characters contained within Men Without Women. It even called to mind parts of American Purgatorio a more recent novel in a similar setting.
The theme of losing your mind and the discovery of yourself on the highways of America is obviously a strong and overly used one but in Red Lights Simenon manages to achieve something that is slight in mass but even more powerful for it.
It may have been written in 1953 but it feels timeless; not just in that the prose hasn't dated but that these characters, these actions, the psychological turmoil and dissatisfaction with life could just as easily be written about people in 2012.
An incredibly easy and enjoyable read, I'm stunned at the speed at which I devoured this one and look forward to reading more of the stuff Simenon thought he deserved a Nobel prize for.
A dark noir-like tale of one mans weaknesses and the unravelling of a life over one reckless night reminding me of both David Goodis (a recent discovery of mine) and the characters contained within Men Without Women. It even called to mind parts of American Purgatorio a more recent novel in a similar setting.
The theme of losing your mind and the discovery of yourself on the highways of America is obviously a strong and overly used one but in Red Lights Simenon manages to achieve something that is slight in mass but even more powerful for it.
It may have been written in 1953 but it feels timeless; not just in that the prose hasn't dated but that these characters, these actions, the psychological turmoil and dissatisfaction with life could just as easily be written about people in 2012.
An incredibly easy and enjoyable read, I'm stunned at the speed at which I devoured this one and look forward to reading more of the stuff Simenon thought he deserved a Nobel prize for.
April 29, 2021
Libro davvero ben scritto che mi ha tenuta incollata alle pagine dall'inizio alla fine.
Non ho dato le 5 stelle piene perché ho trovato che il romanzo, nonostante realistico, fosse basato su delle casualità troppo forzate.
In ogni caso lo consiglio e sono curiosa di leggere altri libri di Simenon.
Non ho dato le 5 stelle piene perché ho trovato che il romanzo, nonostante realistico, fosse basato su delle casualità troppo forzate.
In ogni caso lo consiglio e sono curiosa di leggere altri libri di Simenon.
October 31, 2017
Nella copertina si dice che Simenon qui rivisita il Noir. A mio modesto avviso in realtà si rivisita la Tragedia. Con una avvertenza: la "catarsi" per Simenon non contempla necessariamente il totale sacrificio e la simpatia che S. in numerosi romanzi prova per le coppie oneste che traggono forza l'uno dall'altro, è la chiave del romanzo.
Lei e lui andranno a prendere i figli di ritorno dalle ferie.
Lui è pieno di ciarpame che tenta di sciacquare via col rye. Lei è una donna brillante, desiderabile, ragionevole e organizzata (una di quelle cui detesteresti dare ragione perché ce l'hanno...)
Il loro litigio prevedibile verrà interrotto dall'imprevisto.
Lei e lui andranno a prendere i figli di ritorno dalle ferie.
Lui è pieno di ciarpame che tenta di sciacquare via col rye. Lei è una donna brillante, desiderabile, ragionevole e organizzata (una di quelle cui detesteresti dare ragione perché ce l'hanno...)
Il loro litigio prevedibile verrà interrotto dall'imprevisto.
July 19, 2011
Read this in its entirety on a plane ride, claustrophobic as hell. Pissed me off at the end where the wife's being raped draws her and her wayward husband into some schadenfreude reconciliation/ renewal of their vows. There's kind of a big difference between going on a bender, and getting the shit kicked out of you and raped on the side of the highway. Marriage in the 1950's probably worked so well because of the aforementioned insistence on "finding common ground."
August 27, 2012
«Non leggere Luci nella notte, non è il momento giusto per te»
«Ma figurati! Dopo aver letto Fitzgerald e Yates, nulla può più abbattermi»
«Sei emotivamente instabile, Simenon non ti aiuterà»
«Scusa, non �� quello che scrive noir? Il commissario Maigret di qua, il commissario Maigret di là… tutti ne parlano sempre con toni così entusiasmanti! Cosa vuoi che mi faccia un libretto di 166 pagine?»
«Qui non c’è il commissario Maigret. Ci sono un uomo e una donna. E poi c’è la vita. E tu non hai mai letto Simenon»
«Io sono una donna. E ho una vita. Quindi siamo già a due elementi che potrò ritrovare in questo libro e, chissà, magari capire qualcosa in più di me e di ciò che mi sta intorno. In fondo, è un po’ lo scopo del genere noir, no?»
«Infatti è l’uomo a preoccuparmi. La storia di quell’uomo ti annienterà»
«Per quello ci ha già pensato Antonio Dorigo, con la sua relazione d’amore tormentata e sofferta»
«Avevi 17 anni, quando hai letto Un amore di Dino Buzzati. Sapevi poco dell’amore e della vita. Adesso è diverso. Steve, il protagonista di Luci nella notte, ti condurrà verso un tunnel che non vuoi percorrere. Perché ti metterà di fronte alle difficoltà che sorgono in un rapporto di coppia, che non sono solo le abitudini sfiancanti, la noia e i problemi di comunicazione. Ma la perduta complicità e il desiderio di evasione»
«Spiegati meglio»
«Capita che durante una relazione si arrivi ad avvertire una strana sensazione di vuoto: la persona che ti sta accanto è sempre lì, eppure è come se non ci fosse, tanto che le serate diventano tutte uguali. Il passo per detestare il modo di fare dell’altra persona è breve. E, il bello, è che generalmente la cosa è reciproca. Quindi, arriva un momento in cui, vuoi per la stanchezza, vuoi per un eccesso di loquacità, vuoi per un bicchiere di troppo, tiri tutto fuori e rinfacci ciò che non ti sta più bene. In questo libro, ti ritroverai nella stessa macchina in cui Steve e Nancy litigano, in cui Steve cerca di impartire alla moglie una lezione di umiltà, perché lei è un po’ la signorina perfettina, che non esce mai dai binari e segue sempre lo stesso percorso, come un treno che vuole raggiungere l’infinito soltanto lungo una linea perfettamente dritta. Sentirai Steve parlare di lei in tono perentorio, non da uomo innamorato, ma da essere superiore che desidera lasciarsi andare ogni tanto a qualche impulso umano. E per impulso umano intendo bere una birra in più senza che nessuno lo aspetti con il dito puntato, senza sentirsi perennemente in difetto e dover chiedere scusa per un comportamento del tutto legittimo. E, infine, Steve ti spiegherà di cosa hanno bisogno gli uomini e di cosa le donne li privano perché non capiscono, perché non riescono a uscire da quei fottuti binari»
«C’è il rischio di farsi male, uscendo dai binari»
«Certo. Ma quando ti capita una tragedia, come quella narrata nel romanzo, che ti fa vedere ogni cosa sotto un’altra luce, che ti permette di comprendere che tutto ciò che hai è proprio tutto ciò che desideri e che hai sempre desiderato, fidati che poi ti fai male il triplo»
«Però poi capisci»
«Però poi capisci»
Sono pochi i libri che emanano un’ inquietudine tale da farti rivedere tutti i tuoi schemi mentali. Credo che questo romanzo non me lo toglierò mai più dalla testa.
http://lavyrtuosa.com/2012/08/luci-ne...
«Ma figurati! Dopo aver letto Fitzgerald e Yates, nulla può più abbattermi»
«Sei emotivamente instabile, Simenon non ti aiuterà»
«Scusa, non �� quello che scrive noir? Il commissario Maigret di qua, il commissario Maigret di là… tutti ne parlano sempre con toni così entusiasmanti! Cosa vuoi che mi faccia un libretto di 166 pagine?»
«Qui non c’è il commissario Maigret. Ci sono un uomo e una donna. E poi c’è la vita. E tu non hai mai letto Simenon»
«Io sono una donna. E ho una vita. Quindi siamo già a due elementi che potrò ritrovare in questo libro e, chissà, magari capire qualcosa in più di me e di ciò che mi sta intorno. In fondo, è un po’ lo scopo del genere noir, no?»
«Infatti è l’uomo a preoccuparmi. La storia di quell’uomo ti annienterà»
«Per quello ci ha già pensato Antonio Dorigo, con la sua relazione d’amore tormentata e sofferta»
«Avevi 17 anni, quando hai letto Un amore di Dino Buzzati. Sapevi poco dell’amore e della vita. Adesso è diverso. Steve, il protagonista di Luci nella notte, ti condurrà verso un tunnel che non vuoi percorrere. Perché ti metterà di fronte alle difficoltà che sorgono in un rapporto di coppia, che non sono solo le abitudini sfiancanti, la noia e i problemi di comunicazione. Ma la perduta complicità e il desiderio di evasione»
«Spiegati meglio»
«Capita che durante una relazione si arrivi ad avvertire una strana sensazione di vuoto: la persona che ti sta accanto è sempre lì, eppure è come se non ci fosse, tanto che le serate diventano tutte uguali. Il passo per detestare il modo di fare dell’altra persona è breve. E, il bello, è che generalmente la cosa è reciproca. Quindi, arriva un momento in cui, vuoi per la stanchezza, vuoi per un eccesso di loquacità, vuoi per un bicchiere di troppo, tiri tutto fuori e rinfacci ciò che non ti sta più bene. In questo libro, ti ritroverai nella stessa macchina in cui Steve e Nancy litigano, in cui Steve cerca di impartire alla moglie una lezione di umiltà, perché lei è un po’ la signorina perfettina, che non esce mai dai binari e segue sempre lo stesso percorso, come un treno che vuole raggiungere l’infinito soltanto lungo una linea perfettamente dritta. Sentirai Steve parlare di lei in tono perentorio, non da uomo innamorato, ma da essere superiore che desidera lasciarsi andare ogni tanto a qualche impulso umano. E per impulso umano intendo bere una birra in più senza che nessuno lo aspetti con il dito puntato, senza sentirsi perennemente in difetto e dover chiedere scusa per un comportamento del tutto legittimo. E, infine, Steve ti spiegherà di cosa hanno bisogno gli uomini e di cosa le donne li privano perché non capiscono, perché non riescono a uscire da quei fottuti binari»
«C’è il rischio di farsi male, uscendo dai binari»
«Certo. Ma quando ti capita una tragedia, come quella narrata nel romanzo, che ti fa vedere ogni cosa sotto un’altra luce, che ti permette di comprendere che tutto ciò che hai è proprio tutto ciò che desideri e che hai sempre desiderato, fidati che poi ti fai male il triplo»
«Però poi capisci»
«Però poi capisci»
Sono pochi i libri che emanano un’ inquietudine tale da farti rivedere tutti i tuoi schemi mentali. Credo che questo romanzo non me lo toglierò mai più dalla testa.
http://lavyrtuosa.com/2012/08/luci-ne...
May 1, 2011
Di questi tempi, continuo ad imbattermi in libri che raccontano di svolte sbagliate ("Ero Jack Mortimer" di Holenia). E continua a tornarmi in mente "Detour", il famoso b-movie noir di Edgar G. Ulmer (chissà se Simenon lo conosceva).
Detour, una svolta. Un colpo di sterzo per uscire dai binari, per cambiare vita, per dimostrare qualcosa.
Forse solo per scoprire che la linea tra la norma(lità) e la devianza\deviazione è sottile e per di più scolorisce facilmente con il whisky.
Così un tale senza grilli e senza storia molla la moglie in autostrada durante il ponte festivo, e svolta.
Beve ogni tanto, ha bevuto anche quel giorno. Per paura, per inadeguatezza, per qualche motivo.
La vita del suo lindo sobborgo, la moglie in carriera, i figli in giardino possono essere il paradiso o l'inferno: dipende tutto dalla linea. Da quale parte della linea si osserva il quadretto.
Scaricata la moglie, il tizio cerca solidarietà, amicizia e persino un po' di verità in un evaso galeotto, che cerca di aiutare nella sua fuga.
Simenon appaia il protagonista a due figure paradossalmente simili.
La moglie, decisa, pratica, in carriera.
L'evaso, deciso, pratico, in fuga.
Nessuno di loro è interessato ad ascoltare, a capire perchè un brav'uomo, un onest'uomo a un certo punto svolta.
Per uscire dai binari, per fargliela vedere.
Al mondo, alla moglie che ha sempre ragione, alla coda in autostrada.
Svolta e finisce a sbattere, in quella che somiglia tanto alla (solita) sterile ribellione di un borghese piccolo piccolo, che picchia la testa contro sbarre fin troppo solide per essere quelle di una gabbia immaginaria.
Il racconto è scritto secco secco, perchè "le uniche risposte vere sono quelle brevi"
Insolitamente debole il personaggio femminile, forse perchè il misogino Simenon non si trovava molto a suo agio con le emancipate donne newyorkesi.
Il lirismo è affidato alle chiacchiere ubriache del protagonista e al finale, intenso ma decisamente troppo semplice.
Del resto, il noir racconta la crisi, non la soluzione (a diversi generi di persone si addicono diversi generi di verità).
Per quella, c'è sempre Maigret.
Detour, una svolta. Un colpo di sterzo per uscire dai binari, per cambiare vita, per dimostrare qualcosa.
Forse solo per scoprire che la linea tra la norma(lità) e la devianza\deviazione è sottile e per di più scolorisce facilmente con il whisky.
Così un tale senza grilli e senza storia molla la moglie in autostrada durante il ponte festivo, e svolta.
Beve ogni tanto, ha bevuto anche quel giorno. Per paura, per inadeguatezza, per qualche motivo.
La vita del suo lindo sobborgo, la moglie in carriera, i figli in giardino possono essere il paradiso o l'inferno: dipende tutto dalla linea. Da quale parte della linea si osserva il quadretto.
Scaricata la moglie, il tizio cerca solidarietà, amicizia e persino un po' di verità in un evaso galeotto, che cerca di aiutare nella sua fuga.
Simenon appaia il protagonista a due figure paradossalmente simili.
La moglie, decisa, pratica, in carriera.
L'evaso, deciso, pratico, in fuga.
Nessuno di loro è interessato ad ascoltare, a capire perchè un brav'uomo, un onest'uomo a un certo punto svolta.
Per uscire dai binari, per fargliela vedere.
Al mondo, alla moglie che ha sempre ragione, alla coda in autostrada.
Svolta e finisce a sbattere, in quella che somiglia tanto alla (solita) sterile ribellione di un borghese piccolo piccolo, che picchia la testa contro sbarre fin troppo solide per essere quelle di una gabbia immaginaria.
Il racconto è scritto secco secco, perchè "le uniche risposte vere sono quelle brevi"
Insolitamente debole il personaggio femminile, forse perchè il misogino Simenon non si trovava molto a suo agio con le emancipate donne newyorkesi.
Il lirismo è affidato alle chiacchiere ubriache del protagonista e al finale, intenso ma decisamente troppo semplice.
Del resto, il noir racconta la crisi, non la soluzione (a diversi generi di persone si addicono diversi generi di verità).
Per quella, c'è sempre Maigret.
November 25, 2019
Pretty good psychological drama with a bit of suspense. It was written in the 1950s, and one thing that struck me is that when the main character uses a pay phone, he repeatedly gets the same switchboard operator, who remembers and recognizes him. Remember when the world was so small and intimate? It seems like we are all connected now, but it's an illusion.
January 24, 2016
Wow. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
In a brief book that will weld itself to your hands until you finish it, Simenon nails a large bunch of issues from power in marriage, masculinity, views on men and women, as well as the "romance" of th American drive.
In a brief book that will weld itself to your hands until you finish it, Simenon nails a large bunch of issues from power in marriage, masculinity, views on men and women, as well as the "romance" of th American drive.
July 19, 2022
Storia di Steve, un uomo, felicemente sposato, con due figli che ama. Purtroppo ha il vizio di bere e quando affoga nell’alcool le sue insoddisfazioni, inizia a covare rancore per la moglie, le sue raccomandazioni e il buon senso, lo stare nei “binari” delle abitudini quotidiane. E si ribella, sentendo in questo modo di affermare la sua indipendenza, il suo essere uomo. Succede anche la notte che sono in viaggio per andare a riprendere i figli in campeggio nel Maine, in un week-end di traffico intensissimo. Lui, già un po’ alticcio e per ripicca verso la moglie, si ferma in un bar lungo la strada e lei decide di proseguire in autobus. Poi una svolta drammatica.
“E’ stupido, vero? Capiamo solo quando è troppo tardi. Quando siamo felici non ci facciamo caso.”
Simenon ha la capacità di narrare il flusso di pensieri e l’angoscia del protagonista con stile estremamente efficace, tanto da trasmettere al lettore tutta l’inquietudine della situazione. Un grande noir di un grande Simenon. Lo consiglio
“E’ stupido, vero? Capiamo solo quando è troppo tardi. Quando siamo felici non ci facciamo caso.”
Simenon ha la capacità di narrare il flusso di pensieri e l’angoscia del protagonista con stile estremamente efficace, tanto da trasmettere al lettore tutta l’inquietudine della situazione. Un grande noir di un grande Simenon. Lo consiglio
December 8, 2022
“ È stupido, vero? Capiamo solo quando è troppo tardi. Quando siamo felici non ci facciamo caso, commettiamo delle imprudenze, a volte addirittura ci ribelliamo. “ ✨
March 15, 2021
A rare miss as Simenon tackles America's favourite pastime: drunk driving.
Partial blame goes to the translator (presumably English?) who uses UK driving/road terms instead of American, which comes out weird given the setting. Or maybe the book is just that old.
There is one good scene that captures that weird feeling of being stranded at a roadside truckstop/restaurant.
Partial blame goes to the translator (presumably English?) who uses UK driving/road terms instead of American, which comes out weird given the setting. Or maybe the book is just that old.
There is one good scene that captures that weird feeling of being stranded at a roadside truckstop/restaurant.
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