Maigret and the Saturday Caller

Simenon's pipe smoking detective Maigret is so well known, that writing about him might be considered a waste of time. But then, I have to make amends. When I was young - sixties, 20th century - it was very fashionable to read Simenon. And although everybody around me did, including my own brother and father, I didn't, and I have no idea why. I wasn't much of a detective-fan in those years perhaps. And I didn't care about being à la mode. Anyway, I read an enormous amount of literature, but never Simenon. I was perhaps also a bit of a snob. And I was wrong. A few years ago I bought a few Maigrets, just for fun, and liked them. Some weeks later to my surprise there appeared in the (French-language) edition called Pleiade - which is the French equivalent of the American Library, but much more expensive, and a sort of ultimate crowning for every writer in it - two volumes with 20 novels by Simenon, half Maigret, and half non-Maigret. Because, apart from his 75 detectives and 28 short stories, he also wrote 117, what Simenon himself called "romans-durs": hard novels. I bought both volumes. The fact that Simenon, who in essence is a detective-writer, was taken up by the Pleiade really means something. In the thirties, when Simenon had just started writing, he was published by Gallimard, under the imprint NRF, and that is still the best you can do as a French writer. To which should be added that Simenon is from French-speaking Belgium. He was very proud of his publisher and of the writer-friends he got to know by publishing there. In the end I have also bought and read the ten volumes which are called in French "The Complete Maigret": Tout Maigret, and which contain all of his Maigrets in chronological order, including, in volume 10, the 28 short stories. I am pleased to see that Simenon is becoming fashionable again, as he should be. I think "Maigret and the Saturday caller" (Le client du samedi) is one of the very best. The novel demonstrates why it is not correct to call Simenon's Maigrets murder-stories, because murder is not what they are really about. The Saturday caller, (written in 1962) is largely situated in Montmartre. It is a very simple, but also very efficient, and at the same time a very credible and sad story, with a plot that is breathtakingly natural. When Maigret arrives home after work on a Saturday, at Boulevard Richard Lenoir, there is a man waiting for him, one Planchon. Maigret vaguely remembers his face. Planchon has been at his office quite a few times before, always on Saturdays, but without succeeding to meet the inspector because of his busy schedule. Planchon is nervous, and smells of alcohol. He explains that he will commit murder. He says: "I am not mad, inspector. I beg you to believe that I am not mad." Simenon then writes: "Generally this sort of thing was a bad sign, but Maigret was already half convinced." Convinced that the man is not mad, that is. Yet, Maigret is irritated. What can he do? He is the law. He

Léonard Planchon, a painting contractor, confesses to Maigret that he wants to kill his wife and her lover. He's made detailed plans. The lover is living in his house, sleeping in his bed (while Planchon sleeps on a cot in the next room), and is even taking over his business. A pitiable creature with zero self-esteem (he is disfigured by a harelip), Planchon has taken to drink. Maigret starts investigating before there's a crime, to the distress of his superiors. But as it turns out, he's right. This novel, besides being masterfully written, is interesting in the context of Simenon's own life. The author habitually kept wives and mistresses under the same roof. But Maigret is not Simenon, and the Chief Inspector would like to rescue the beleaguered husband, if possible. It's Maigret's compassionate morality that drives the plot.

The Maigret series are a refreshing alternative to the contempory mysteries of today. There is no explicted detail of the crime, no over the top fiction, but when you read a Maigret mystery you get a swift, interesting read with suspensful dialouge and clever twists. This story in particular is about the curious, pathetic, cleft lipped Leonard Planchon who after many failed attempts to contact the suscessful, celebrity like Detective Maigret with letter, reluctantly finds himself in the detective's home to confess a crime not yet comitted. See, Leonard's marriage is a joke to his employees and anyone who knows them. You almost can't feel bad for him. A once suscessful man running a home decorating business finds his life taken over by an employee, an intimidating, handsome man who bullies his way into taking over Planchon's business and then Planchon's wife. Moving into Planchon's home, replacing Planchon's spot in bed next to his wife, all that keeps Planchon from sleeping, without dignity, stubbornly on a cot in the dinning room is his young daughter who he loves deeply. With low self esteem due to his disfigured mouth, all Planchon feels he can do to keep his daughter safe is to kill his wife and her lover, the man who has invaded his life. He goes to tell Maigret before attempting the murder, which frustrates Maigret because he can't quite put his finger on what Planchon wants him to do. He reluctantly follows the pathetic man and comes to find out the ridiculous life he claims to live is more saddening than thought possible, the true woman who calls herself his wife, and a murder twist that results in a shocking trial. I enjoyed this book for it's intense dialouge and a story, I feel, to be a little ahead of it's time. This book can be read in one sitting, and if you enjoy this book there is an entire collection of Maigret stories well worth adding to the mystery lover's book shelf. A complete classic.