Based on real life figures, Philippe Collin’s The Barman of the Ritz isn’t an obvious choice for me, but I’ve enjoyed several novels translated by Frank Wynne so decided to give it a try. Collin reimagines bartender Frank Meier’s four years at the Parisian hotel during the Occupation, from 1940 to Liberation in August of ’44.
France has dissolved like a lump of sugar in a glass of absinthe.
The child of Polish Jews, Frank set up the Petit Bar in 1921, learning his trade in New York to which he’d made his way aged just fourteen. He’s a veteran of the Great War, fighting for the French under General Pètain, despite his Austrian citizenship, revealing his Jewish heritage to no one. By the time the Nazis arrive, Frank is renowned, even writing a book at the suggestion of F Scott Fitzgerald who he knew well enough to call a friend. Marie-Louise Ritz takes full advantage of her Swiss citizenship, keeping the hotel open as an island of neutrality while indulging the likes of Göring and his henchmen. Frank swallows his scruples, charming the German officers who frequent his bar while keeping an eye on his young Jewish apprentice for who he’s arranged false papers. Georges, his assistant and fellow veteran, quickly adjusts to this new life, placing his faith in Pètain’s Vichy administration. Over the years of Occupation, the luxurious world of the Ritz is an increasingly jarring contrast with the starvation and misery outside its doors. Frank becomes involved in a scheme to help wealthy Jewish families escape, his anxiety mounting that his own identity will be revealed and that the recklessness of the woman he adores will be the death of her. By the time the Allies arrive, he no longer recognises himself as he readies the bar to receive a new set of officers.
One day, he finds himself doing favours for Nazis, the next, he is helping Jewish families escape.
That subtitle is taken from Collin’s author’s note. It’s one I’ve asked myself when thinking about the Occupation and collaboration, perhaps understandably not much written about until comparatively recently. It’s a morally complex time which Collin explores well through Frank and his circumstances, from the naked exploitation by the ‘Widow’, as he dubs Marie-Louise, and the staff’s greed for tips, to Frank’s arrangement of false papers, at first pragmatic then to ease his conscience and out of concern while also making money. Collin spent seven years researching the background for Frank’s story which is backed up with an appendix, a gallery of the main protagonists and their fates after Liberation. He leaves Frank on the 9th August 1944, with Hemmingway’s legendary entrance to the bar. The real Frank died three years later in slightly murky circumstances. It’s a gripping story, well told, its suspense maintained even though we know the ending. Collin’s description of a Paris suffering the depredations of Occupation, and worse, was particularly resonant for me given my visit to the city earlier this year which took me just metres away from the famous hotel.
Doubleday: London 9781529956399 368 pages Hardback (NetGalley)
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Sounds really interesting!
Definitely a step outside my usual reading but it’s well done and leaves you with lots to think about.
How interesting. I reserved this from the library and when it came, my husband read it. He was underwhelmed, found it hard going (‘though it got better’). Because I had 9 (!) other books that had just come in, I took the line of least resistance, and took it back, unread by me. Our time in France has made us very interested in the Resistance, which has cast a long shadow. In small communities, neighbours still remember which side each was on, and we lived near some of the well-trodden escape routes over the Pyrenees. I’m re-reserving it! Recommended also is Edward Stourton’s ‘Cruel Crossing: Escaping Hitler across the Pyrenees’.
Thanks for the recommendation. Easy to take the moral high ground for those lucky enough not to have suffered invasion. Enthusiastic collaborators are easier to judge, although who knows the circumstances. I’m sure it’s the same in Spain given the civil war. I hope you get on with it better than your husband.
They were difficult times. You might be interested in a post I wrote whilst in France on this very subject: https://margaret21.com/2011/11/17/le-chemin-de-la-liberte/
Thank you. Such amazing courage – I’m not surprised the stories live on. I’m glad I don’t have to answer the question as to whether I’d step up to help, too. None of us knows what we’re capable of in such circumstance, good or bad.
When you know that if you get caught, your wife and children might suffer the ultimate penalty too, it must concentrate the mind.
Frank Wynne is one of my favourite translators. This sounds a fascinating novel, given so much of it happened.
Definitely a name I look out for. I’d recommend this one, a tricky subject handled well.
This sounds right up my street. I’ll be keeping my eye out for it. Fabulous review Susan.
Thank you! I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this one as much as I did. I think you’d love it.
What a great cover and it sounds fascinating. If I didn’t have a million other books to read – at least it seems like it at the moment – I’d be tempted
It’s a very atmospheric cover, isn’t it. I don’t want to push temptation your way, Cathy, but I think you’d enjoy this one.
This one was already on my list so I was especially interested to read your thoughts on it. Sadly, my library have not purchased a copy. I hope they might soon do so or I will have to wait for the paperback if there is one. It tied in very well with your visit earlier in the year. That always helps to connect with a book, adding interest to the book and refreshing memories of seeing other places.
I’m sorry to hear your library decided against this one. I’m sure there’ll be a paperback edition, though. It certainly makes a book more vivid when you’ve visited the setting – in this case it was quite chilling.
I’ve had my eye on this one. I’m fascinated for the reasons you write about here. Including the comment about giving something to think about afterward. I like that kind of reading experience.
Me, too. The moral complexity makes it such a thought provoking read, all the more so as it’s based on real events.
This sounds quite interesting. I love Paris and books set there during war time. Hadley Freeman’s non-fiction book is a particular favourite as it deals with her ancestors experiences. Collin’s book sounds like a book that could be filmed.
That’s a good point. I can see Netflix snapping this one up. I’ll check the Freeman out. Thanks for the tip, Lucy.
Sounds interesting. Your comment about life inside the hotel being very different to outside reminded me of Amor Towles’ A Gentleman in Moscow, where the people in the hotel continued to live in luxury while the people outside were in deep poverty. But Towles’ treatment was too whimsical for such a serious subject, I felt – the tone of this one sounds as if it has more depth.
I like Towles’s writing but couldn’t get on with A Gentleman in Moscow, giving it up quite early on. Collin doesn’t dodge the misery of day-to-day Occupation, and handles the moral ambiguity of it well. I think you’d enjoy this one.
I like the sound of this, exploring the complexities of the Occupation. I’m not a massive reader of historical fiction but this is really appealing.
I know what you mean about historical fiction, hence my hesitancy about reading it, but I’m glad I overcame that.
Ending with Hemmingway. Very intersting review.
Thank you. Legend has it that he burst into the bar proclaiming liberation which sounds about right.
Of course–made it all about him lol