Violette Retancourt large and indestructible

If many of the novels indicate a direct style, even cookie-cutter, which the build is the distinctive mark, it is fortunately laugh rules as a guigne for better inventing their. Those of Fred Vargas, for example, whose only titles already excite curiosity. This property is an unusual entry, which, even when it turns to the process (which may seem), inevitable after a dozen of books continues to fascinate the reader both his power of destabilisation, such a stainless metal, remains always the appearance of the nine.

The ".. .small brown guys who was a wall of blocks wireless lead, and naked torso under the fresh winds of March" and looks it to his neighbour, the old Lucio, who observed "by wedging the curtain of his window with a clip clothesline" it is the Commissioner Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg. Of the criminal. Béarnaise childhood, feet firmly rooted in the mountainous soil. Chaotic private life: a son, baby, Tom, he was with a musician, Camille but between them, for the time being, it is rather the off-season. As soon as the first chapter of "in the eternal forest", the mystery facing. The House that retape the COP out of standards is, according to Lucio, visited by a shadow and makes crazy those who inhabit it; because this former convent housed in the 18th century, a murderous religious. Words that do not fall into a deaf ear.

At the same time, Adamsberg investigation into the assassination of two measly Crooks, and found for the occasion Ariane Lagarde, renowned forensic pathologist, he was known in le Havre, twenty-three years earlier. And faced, as it will do so again, because it is obvious to him that the death of these two hoodlums at the small foot is suspicious they have the Earth under the fingernails "and these guys were not garden." A detail which is sufficient to detective to hunting. In his team, the Commander Danglard, loyal and protective, not evil focused on alcohol. Violette Retancourt, "large and indestructible". Estalère, the youngest. And the last entrant, lieutenant Veyrenc of Bilhc; still a Béarnais, but this one speaks in verse and quote root.

One evening, in a Norman Borough, he keeps his son while his mother is involved in a concert, Jean-Baptiste meeting regulars of a bistro. Between the Normans and the mountain, little talkative but going right to the goal, the current passes; They him tell, among other things, that a deer had been massacred in the vicinity, and stripped of his heart. The machine is going to turn it on, past respond echoing to the present, including the privacy officer, tracks multiply, riddles interbreed (new killings, condemned by the Church, tombs desecrated... esoteric texts), closer, depart, meet again, until a false last track before shortly the discovery of the guilty.

Any attempt to define the art of Vargas inevitably faces a wall. His words, his sentences, are understood as well as read, countless musical cells which each resonates to infinity in the next, meticulously composed organization but which each Member is, apparently, as a challenge to the logic. Leave these elements live their lives and eventually form a whole, read "in the eternal Woods" as a game, as Fred Vargas plays to write. Which, while it made and cause for the novelist and former activist of the extreme left Italian Cesare Battisti (1), have continued to, through its fiction, to hunt down the weird with a singular voice.