A university academic by occupation, and a great specialist in the
Northern Ireland question, Richard Deutsch made his debut in crime
fiction in 1999 with a trilogy devoted to Ireland, which is now studied
at the University of Cork. Investigations were carried out, at that
time, by Hippolyte Braquemare, a professor of Irish civilisation
at the University of Rennes, and heavily involved in dealings between
Catholics and Protestants. In the third volume, Échec à la
Rennes (éditions Terre de Brume, 2000), the author,
a former food critic, was already developing intrigue in which food
occupied front stage. A lover of fine dining, Hippolyte Braquemare
launches himself on the pursuit of an Irish kitchen boy, Seamus O'Laighume,
who has been conning his employers, one after the other. Six years
later, in 2006, Richard Deutsch has topped this with a gastronome
investigator, whose job it is to survey the French provinces, a notebook
of fine dining addresses in his pocket.
Sophie
Colpaert: How did you come up with the
idea of this character, who thinks as much with his taste buds
as with his neurones?
Richard
Deutsch: Good food is
an essential preoccupation for us bipeds and so too for me, in
my life. One should eat to live, not live to eat, as Molière
already said! The history of food is fascinating. To be brief
about it, we eat to survive, we cook for pleasure, or we take
an interest in gastronomy, in discovering new tastes. I teach
several courses at the Jean Moulin University in Lyon – the
capital of gastronomy, if there is such a thing – on the history
of British cuisine. I can tell you that they are followed attentively
and passionately. Yet boiled roast beef can seem dull! This introduction
leads us to my character. We think better on a full stomach, we
reflect well when the taste buds (and so the brain too) are tickled.
After all, business lunches lead successfully to major decisions
don't they? So I wanted to create a character who is not directly
involved in cookery (he is not a chef, nor a cook) but who knows
how to appreciate food. He thinks better when he is at the table,
this one, rather than when tapping his forehead, like Colombo,
or chewing on those despicable cigars. In my opinion, tobacco destroys
the taste buds.
S.C.: Should
we see, in your approach, especially in La Bistouille
mortelle de Lille , with its story of little freeze-dried
food sachets and foie gras in a can, a reaction against the way
the food and agriculture industry is going – trying to pull the
wool over our eyes, selling us colourings and chemical aromas,
instead of fresh produce, and putting pork gelatine in rice pudding?
How did we come to this?
R.D.: Of
course, it is a reaction, one alarm call amongst so many others.
Crime fiction, in my opinion, is the only place left, these days,
where one can carry out real social investigation and make arguments
to blow the whistle on things, aside from a three-word phrase
in the media! I have some difficulty understanding my contemporaries,
who no longer have any reaction. And yet they have experienced
salmonella, mad cow disease, pig flu, pesticides, bird flu, and
more! That should make them think. A note of caution, though, I
am not saying that bio is better, because for the moment bio can
make your mind boggle, especially when it passes into animals,
into large food groups. We have come to this simply because we
no longer have the time nor the inclination to cook, no longer
have the possibility to grow our greens, etc. … Broadly, the ready-meal
is instant gratification, it is the result of a culture of being
on the go: getting pleasure immediately, without having to wait.
And the consequences? No-one cares! Tomorrow is another day isn't
it? I don't believe it: tomorrow is today. One only has to observe
obese children in industrial societies, stuffing crisps whilst
watching starving children in Africa on the TV. A striking snapshot
of our society!
S.C.: The
novels are embellished with numerous flashes of eating habits (and
not only eating habits) of famous investigators, habits that Hob
does not share, who, suddenly, resembles more a ‘ real ' policeman
than a fictional investigator. Is this a way, for you, of renewing
the genre?
R.D.: It was relatively
unconscious, but on reflecting on your question, yes. All characters
in detective novels have habits and tics that make them unique.
Eating habits have only appeared, say, in the last twenty years
or so – as a way of renewing the genre.
An then with all the prohibitions that pepper our lives (no tobacco,
no alcohol, no sex, no speeding etc …) it has become difficult
for authors to create ‘acceptable' characters, for publishers,
in the context of our societies, which are obsessed with the ‘correct
attitude'!
S.C.: There is a great deal of time spent at the table, in the novels,
which is never wasted time, a lot of that calming effect produced
by a good meal, whether it is a simple dish or more elaborate cuisine,
and yet, surprisingly, there is not much cooking going on. Is this
a paradox or not?
R.D.: For the moment,
yes, but I am ‘setting up' my character.
In other stories, you will see him spending a bit of time at the
stove! What is needed, too, is an understanding of the right proportions,
to have the reader salivate, without sending him to sleep with
lengthy technical details. One of my favourite dishes, which I
love to make, is poached oysters. Preparation time: a little more
than three hours. Tasting time: three seconds. To tell you the
truth, guests don't care about the number of hours spent in the
kitchen, they savour it and that's the main thing. It seems to
me that it is a similar thing in novels.
S.C.: Will we see Hob leave, one day, on a discovery of foreign food?
R.D.: Hob, who is
of a certain age, has been around a bit of course. The next novel
will see him in Peking in the 1980s, just after the death of
Mao, and under the out-and-out Communists … which
doesn't mean the end of excellent Chinese cuisine.
S.C.: Might you envisage devoting a work just to gastronomy, one day,
if it hasn ' t been done already?
R.D.: It is tempting!
Detective Hob will help me, perhaps, to succumb to it …
If you want to get
to know Hob better, make a date for the forum ‘Hob,
or the impossibility of investigating on an empty stomach' ….
