Die Flaschenpost

by René Schickele

This is the French translation (by Dominique Dubuy) of a novel published in 1937 in Amsterdam in German by René Schickelé. The story is set on the French Riviera.

168 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1937

Reviews

[Pascale · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book starts well enough but then nosedives into complete gibberish. The narrator, a wealthy American named Richard Wolke, has chosen to live on the French Riviera, not in Sanary-sur-Mer, where the author himself spent some time, but somewhere inland. His housekeeper, Fanny, who is also his brother's occasional mistress, is mostly there to keep an eye on him, because of his eccentricities. A self-declared anarchist, Richard spends most of his time observing the local population with a wry smile. When a Spanish refugee with a Bourbon nose rents the house next door, Richard spreads the word that the man is none other than deposed King Alfonso XIII. Although locals don't really believe this tall tale, they extend credit to Casimir Castro and his gorgeous mistress, Pipette, who, nonetheless extracts money from Richard. The most interesting character, however, is Josefo, who runs a bar and a grocery store in the village. In fact, he is one of these canny uneducated characters who knows instinctively how to curry favor with everyone and always come on top, regardless of political upheavals. While Josefo is truly devoted to his ailing wife Nina, a candid soul, he makes a contingency plan by seducing Fanny, whom he suspects of having savings, and marries her within days of Nina's death. Not long afterwards, however, Josefo hangs himself. The best chapters in this part of the book deal with Nina's fear of death, winter weather on the Riviera, and the atmosphere in the area as fascism gains ground on the other see of the Italian border. So far, so good. Then comes some action: one day, Castro informs Richard that the French authorities have withdrawn his permis de séjour, whereupon, Richard shoots him dead. Taken into custody, Richard is considered insane by the police for his stated belief that the man he shot was the former King of Spain, and handed over to his brother, who has him put in the loony bin. From then on, I lost all interest in the story. Whether Richard is mad or feigns madness (to what ends?) is never made clear, and although I tried hard to read this book, first published in 1937, as a political parable, as far as I can make out, Schickelé was unable to deliver on his premise.