Funerarium*
Brigitte Aubert
Ed Robin • 2006 • 416
Seiten
Giuseppina La Ciura
Translation: Jamie Andrew
In
the black and white photo taken on the beach at Cannes , Mme. Brigitte
Aubert looks the epitome –quiet and unthreatening- of a
middle-aged lady. We see her at one with the world, just out of the
water, in one of the most beautiful and renowned spots in the world.
But – as we know- appearances can be deceptive. You only have to
read the prologue (‘Dog. Dog. Dog…') of her Funérarium (Funerary
Room), published by Robin in the appealing ‘Crime Scenes'
series (Ontario, Brittany, Paris, Magnan's Midi, Rome, Venetia… so
far), to realise that Mme Aubert comes from the same stable as Mrs
Highsmith or Margaret Millar: a queen of the suspense thriller.
In this novel, the suspense arises from the
incessant, brutal, and disconcerting contrast, on the edge of reason,
between the superficial world of Cannes in April- the sun-drenched Croisette,
alive with tourists, sunbathers, gamblers- and the shadowy underbelly
of the Riviera, with its disembowled and embalmed bodies, symbolized
by the gloomy workshop of Léonard Chib Moreno. This puny little
dark skinned lad, his mother unmarried, is at the heart of the story;
his father and teacher is presumed to be the alarming El Ayache,
supposedly heir to the great embalmers from the time of the Egyptian
Pharaohs…
At the beginning of the novel, Moreno
is a serious, skilled professional embalmer, much in demand by
the wealthy residents of the Cote d'Azur; and if “the company of the living was often too much for him”,
he appears to cross easily from one world to the other, with the
help of his friend Greg, an inveterate partygoer, and a rather
pitiful case. This fragile equilibrium will shatter when Moreno
meets the beautiful and ethereal- though mentally unstable- Blanche
Andrieu. Blanche wants Moreno to embalm her daughter, Elilou, who
died aged just eight when she fell from a ladder. Unwilling to
accept the commission, Moreno has a morbid attraction for the woman,
and ends up taking the job. And so he is slowly, steadily and ineluctably
drawn into the maelstrom (described in dream-like language and
a severe style, and accompanied by the author's barbed quips, and
scenes that are macabre, grotesque, surreal).
As it turns out, the little body shows
signs of maltreatment, and has been violated. Just as in S-A Steeman's
(un)forgettable Le mannequin
assassiné (The Murdered Mannequin), the novel
again takes up the idea –constantly renewed, always true to its origins-
of the demon that hides within a well-to-do, Catholic family, apparently
living the perfect life beneath the Olive Trees of an elegant country
dwelling. Our embalmer is suspicious, makes his own investigations,
at a likely cost to his sanity, even his life, and in a terrifying
final chapter, comes face to face with Evil. Can you look the Gorgons
in the eyes?
* Funerary Room
