Flavières didn’t like people with too much self-assurance-and, outwardly at least, Gévigne had plenty-though it was a quality he would have given anything to possess himself.

Because of his smug affluence, his cigars, his contract for building small craft-because of everything. Gévigne deserved to be made a fool of by his wife. But how could she have brought herself to marry this stocky, corpulent man? Of course she was carrying on with somebody else… Those attacks!… Dragging a red herring across her own tracks… Serve him right. He is also not terribly fond of Gévigne, which you’ll see in the following quote. Even though he suspects Madeleine is simply having an affair, Flavières agrees. With all this in mind, Gévigne asks Flavières to keep an eye his wife, to follow her from a distance and provide an opinion on her behaviour. His wife seems to have developed a strange fascination with her great-grandmother, Pauline Lagerlac, who, unbeknownst to Madeleine, took her own life at a young age. 12)ĭespite the fact that several doctors have examined Madeleine and found nothing wrong with her health, Gévigne remains concerned. ‘…She’s absent-minded, as though her body no longer belonged to her, as though she had become someone else…’ (pg. According to Gévigne, Madeleine has always had a rather variable temperament, ‘up one minute, down the next’, but lately she has become prone to odd silences more specifically, there are times when she appears to drift off into a world of her own. Gévigne is worried about his wife of four years, a lady by the name of Madeleine. Even though he hasn’t seen Gévigne for fifteen years, Flavières can tell that his old acquaintance is not entirely at ease. Lawyer and former police officer, Roger Flavières is approached by an old friend, Paul Gévigne, who wants to ask a favour of him. In any case, it’s a terrific read, especially if you’re interested in the themes of desire and obsession.Īs the story opens, we find ourselves in Paris in 1940, and the signs of war are rumbling away in the background. Moreover, the characterisation feels stronger and more nuanced here. I think the novel is darker and more disturbing than Hitchcock’s adaptation. Even if you’re familiar with the movie, the book is well worth reading. I’ve yet to read the latter, but if Vertigo is anything to go by, it promises to be a treat.įirst published in France in 1954, Vertigo (originally titled D’entre les morts, meaning Among the Dead) is the source novel for the Hitchcock film of the same name. When Pushkin Press launched their new crime imprint-aptly named Pushkin Vertigo-back in September, I couldn’t resist buying a couple of titles: the Boileau-Narcejac I’m reviewing here, plus Leo Perutz’ Master of the Day of Judgement.

Pierre boileau vertigo