Le Cafe Singe Bleu Serving generous portions of history and mystery from our monthly menu Volume 1, Issue 1: January 1, 2003

BOOK REVIEWS

Masquerade Walter Satterthwait 1998 Detectives: Phil Beaumont and Jane Turner Location: Paris, France Time: 1923 Should you read this book? Mais oui!

Masquerade is a flawed masterpiece. Satterthwait writes with a sure hand, displaying marvelous technique, evocative background, and appealing characters. The book is quite simply a page turner. So much so that, at the end, one finds oneself expecting more, as it ends too abruptly. The motivation of the murderer is really given short shrift. The murderer, by no means a fool, makes several foolish mistakes, both in committing the crimes and attempting to cover up for them afterwards. However, if people weren't foolish in real life, crooks would never be caught, and so perhaps Masquerade is just being true to life (but its still pretty unsatisfactory). Nevertheless, a must read. Opening lines People moved through the huge train station the way they always move through train stations, more hurried than careful, and more harried, most of them, than carefree. The train from London had been early. I had been standing by the Information Booth for ten minutes. ''Monsieur Beaumont, I presume.'' I turned. He was a brightly wrapped package, for seven o'clock in the morning. ''That's right.'' I said. In the air was a faint smell of bay rum. It hadn't been there before. ''I am Ledoq,'' he said, and he bent his head forward in a small quick bow. He might have clocked his heels. I couldn't swear to that. The Pinkertons have been hired by a grieving mother to to investigate the mysterious death of her son, Richard Forsythe. He and a woman named Sabine von Steuben were found dead in a Paris hotel room locked from the inside. There were no signs of a struggle. Forsythe had often talked of committing suicide, and the Parisian police dismiss the case as a suicide pact. To American Pinkerton operative Phil Beaumont, the time discrepancy between the deaths of the woman and the man are intriguing. He intends to find out if there is more to these deaths than there seems. In his quest, he is aided by French dilletante (and occasional Pinkerton operative) Henri Ledoq - a dapper little man of great courage and charm, who acts as his translator and guide to Paris and its upper,and underworld. While Beaumont and Ledoq investigate Forsysthe's friends in Paris (including Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein), another Pinkerton operative, Jane Turner is 'in the field,'travelling as nanny with the family of Forsythe's uncle. It is her job to investigate two suspects of her own. At first Beaumont concentrates on the character of Richard Forsythe and his milieu. But as he learns more about Sabine von Steuben, and the fact that she used to collect money for a political group in Germany called the National Socialists...he begins to wonder if he is not concentrating on the wrong murder. This is an engagingly told tale. Beaumont does not have the overpowering quirks, or ego, of an Hercule Poirot or a Sherlock Holmes, yet he is very likeable, revealing a dry sense of humor and a compassionate insight into human nature. ''Lies are always interesting. Just as long as you know they're lies.'' and ''There's really no point, is there, in asking me questions if you already know the answers.'' complains a suspect. ''Those are the best kinds of questions.'' reveals Beaumont. and ''Why is it always the most helpless of women who become associated with the most ruthless of men?'' ''I don't know. Sometimes they seek each other out.'' The story is driven by the narration of Beaumont, interpolated from letters sent by Jane to a friend in England, in which she recounts her adventures which run concurrently. This generates a nice suspense - for it is not necessary for Jane to survive her adventure for her letters to be published... Jane reveals her share of humor and insight as well. ''This is the problem with poses: they are so easily undone by the malice of the props we use to maintain them.'' and ''One discovers quite a lot when one is a Pinkerton, and some of this pertains to other people, and some of it pertains to oneself; and not all of it, in either case, is necessarily wholesome. Or welcome.'' Paris, 1923 is a fascinating time. There are remnants of the Great War, there are mentions of National Socialism. In addition to such characters as Hemingway, Stein, Man Ray, and Picasso, we hear of, or meet, British mystery author Sybil Norton (partly based on Agatha Christie) and Aster Loving (partly based on Josephine Baker). Beaumont gets to meet them, while simultaneously running from both Parisian gangsters and Parisian police. Meanwhile, Jane Turner is in danger that she doesn't even know about. Satterthwait has some fun with his characters. Two of the titles of Sybil Norton's mysteries are The Mysterious Affair at Pyles and Death Gets Knocked Up At Nine. Today, Gertrude Stein is misquoted famously as ''A rose is a rose is a rose.'' Satterthwait quotes her correctly in his book, by having her refer to Rose Forsythe (widow of the possible suicide) in that fashion (''Rose is a rose is a rose.'') Gertrude Stein has other good moments: Stein: ''...You must ignore her. She is a nincompoop. All of the Forsythes are nincompoops. It runs in the family.'' Jane: ''The children are really very sweet.'' Stein: ''That may be, but sooner or later they will become nincompoops. You must ignore what their mother said. You must always ignore anything said to you by a nincompoop.'' and For a long time, on the road between Paris and Chartes, Miss Stein told me about herself and her place in English literature. Basically, there was Shakespeare, and then there was Miss Stein. She explained to me why this was so. Paris, 1923 and its inhabitants (both gay and otherwise) will come alive in this novel, a fitting sequel to the first installment in this series Escapade which introduced the American Beaumont and the beginning operative, Turner. While they don't actually meet in this one until the denouement, they are constantly in each other's thoughts. Masquerade is a fun, frothy, delightfully suspenseful tale. Read it.

A Movable Feast by Ernest Hemingway and The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein (really an autobiography of herself) are delightful companions to Masquerade. Paris of the 1920s, and the Lost Generation, will come alive in these works by the people who experienced it.

Thank you so much

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