Pietr el letón

The first Maigret novel is a little weird - part of it is the time, part of it is the setting, part of it is the detective himself. But it has enough good moments to actually be worth reading.

A known criminal, Pietr the Latvian, is on his way to Paris. Maigret is the one that get the notes and

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heads to the station to see the man arriving. And he does - together with stumbling at a dead body. And the chase is on.

If Maigret was written today, he would sounded like just one of the eccentric detectives that had dominated the field. But considering when he was created, he is one of the ones that actually created the cliche. His obsession with his stove and his beer (did Stout read some of these novels before creating Nero Wolfe or the two of them just came up with that in the same decade?) make him different from some of the other detective in the classic series; his methods are unorthodox (but successful).

That first murder ends up just the start of a much more serious case which will lead to more deaths (including a policeman), a few women that seem to be in love with men that could not exist and an internal conspiracy. Add a wealthy American who is beloved by the government, an old family story and a few bullets hitting where they should not, a few lost ribs and more misdirection than you would expect in such a slim book and you will have the novel.

Part of the issues of the book is exactly that complexity. It feels more like a puzzle and an attempt to add more and more misdirection just for the sake of misdirection. But it does have its great moments - from introducing the police network in Europe and the instructions on recognizing people by their ears (I did not realize that theory was that old) to Paris - the Paris of the 30s with its great places and dives.

A good start of the series - even if it is not a great novel, I ma happy I read it.

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After reading a number of Maigret novels I was curious to read the first one that Simenon wrote, which was Pietr-le-letton. According to my [Tout Maigret] omnibus, it was not the first of his detective novels that was published, it was one of the eight published in 1931, but this one was written in

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1929. It is the first of a long series and people do like to start from the beginning: 1,151 members of LT own the book and there are 57 reviews.

In this stirring tale there are three murders, one being a policeman. Maigret himself is shot, but refuses to stop his hunt for the killers. He is described as a large powerful man and it is his dogged pursuit and solitary stake-outs that are the key to solving the mystery of Pietr-le-letton. The action takes place in tempest like conditions and Jules Maigret is soaked by rain water, by sea water and his own blood. He travels to the seaside port of Fécamp and prowls around the Jewish quarter, all fairly grim in the appalling weather. This is a far cry from later novels that I have read, where Maigret barely leaves his house or the prefecture. In this early incarnation he loves his wood stove that is the centre piece of his office and his pipe is rarely out of his mouth. He is a keen observer of peoples actions and reactions and his interviewing technique is already honed to a fine art. He is already drinking copiously, but horror of horrors we learn that he does not like champagne.

Of course it is fascinating to read a crime novel from the early 1930's when detective work and communications were so different; Maigret relied on people to run errands for him and to deliver messages. The train was used for long journeys and so the pace of detective work was carried out in accordance with train timetables. It was easier for detectives to cut corners, to pressure witnesses and to work on their own and all of this suited Maigret. This early novel has plenty of action and some good dialogue and reflects the suspicion of strangers from Germany and Eastern Europe. The mystery is well wrapped up: 4 stars and onto the next one.

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The novel Pietr the Latvian (1929) is Georges Simenon’s introduction of Maigret, the stoical French detective and inspector leader of the Paris police “Flying Squad.” The popularity of the character spanned many decades, and the writer published seventy-five novels and twenty-eight short

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stories about Maigret between 1931 and 1972. In this volume, there is a Simenon quote that gives the reader an idea of how the character was first developed. Simenon was sitting in a café one morning enjoying a glass of schnapps when he decided to write a mystery series focused on the activities of a unique character, a large powerfully built gentleman accessorized with a pipe, a bowler, a thick overcoat with a velvet collar, and a fondness for standing in front of a cast iron stove in his office. Like Simenon himself, Maigret loved smoking and drinking, the latter without overt drunkenness. Maigret was conceived to be a dogged procedural investigator with frequent actions determined by his intuitions regarding the motivations of criminals. Maigret is married, and his wife expects and endures frequent unannounced absences as the detective chases down criminals with the help of his squad.

There was a time when I read many mysteries because I thought writers in this genre focus more directly on the psychology of the characters than writers in other fiction categories. Simenon is a good example of this concentration since he deliberately selected a character dedicated to his career and to life’s small but daily personal pleasures tobacco, alcohol, physical warmth, and in particular active interaction with criminals from a position of power. The reader does not so much identify with the inspector but rather follows him around in a somewhat subservient fashion. Like the subordinates and criminals Maigret runs across in the stories, the reader does not want to get in the man’s way. In this novel and others, Maigret likes to use his large body to invade the space of others, intimidating them with his bulk and imperative language.

In Pietr the Latvian, it is apparent how Simenon hooked readers into following the somewhat overbearing detective, a hard man to like on the surface. In this case, Maigret investigates a murder on a train that occurs on a journey from northern Europe to Paris. The detective puffs on his pipe, stands in front of his cast iron stove, and follows the trail of suspects who after the murder are staying at a first class hotel in Paris. Maigret shows grit in his endurance as he travels and works for days without sleep in pursuit of evidence that will solve the perpetrator’s identity diversions. Considered a threat, the detective is targeted for elimination and suffers injury but plods on in his investigation, weakened but determined. In the course of exhausting events, Maigret takes time to enjoy his tobacco, alcohol, and comfort of heat in various locations during the cold and rainy conditions in France.

I will be following the detective in his many cases for many years to come, continuing by reading novel number 2 when the mood strikes me. If you like contemporary mysteries, the Maigret series will provide a good foundation for understanding the genre.

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The story is choppy and difficult to follow. Its possible this is due partly to the translation, but I think most of it is the story itself.

Pietr the Latvian - Georges Simenon ***

I have always enjoyed the odd detective story, from Holmes and Poirot to the noir brilliance of Phillip Marlowe, but somehow I never really came across Maigret. It was only after watching the TV series with Rowan Atkinson that I did a little research and

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thought it was worth giving the books a try. A quick look on the internet and I found that Penguin had started rereleasing the novels once again, albeit with a new translation. The first book is well under 200 pages long so I felt it was worth a punt.

The storyline is fairly simple; Maigret receives notification that an international conman name Pietr the Latvian could be moving into his area. He goes to the train station to try and locate the felon and just as he spots someone resembling his description is called to a cabin where a body has been found. Unfortunately for Maigret the body also matches the depiction .... he must now try and track down the identity of both men. What follows is pretty much a tale of stakeouts and early forensic investigations as we tag along with Maigret from the height of opulence in expensive hotels to seedy back street dwellings. There are a few twists in the plot towards the end, but to be honest I kind of guessed them before they were apparent.

I just couldn’t seem to get into this story. I know that Simenon likes to keep his writing sparse and direct, but quite often I lost my way and found that I had to reread a chapter or two to find out what was going on. The plot seemed to flit back and forth and at times was just disjointed. The characters were ok, but I still didn’t really care what happened next to them, which was a shame because I really wanted to enjoy this series and hoped I had found a new author to follow. The other reviews seem to vary, from people who have been a long time fan and loved the book, to others who just didn’t really manage to get into the plot like myself. This is one of those strange books, where I am unsure whether it is the original author that I couldn’t get along with or the translation. There seems to be a large number of reviewers that are commenting on the latest edition and marking them down because of this. Either way, I didn’t enjoy any aspect of the book enough to read another edition and find out.

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The recent decision by Penguin to republish fresh translations of all of Simenon's Maigret novels, in the original order of publication, provides a real opportunity for readers to catch up on titles that have been out of print for some time. Apparently the 75 novels will be published at the rate of

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one a month. There is even an accompanying 24 page brochure available giving biographical details about Simenon and the characters he created.

I've been a Simenon reader for decades and could not pass up the opportunity to read, on my Kindle, the very first of the Maigret titles.

Maigret comes over as a mountain of a man, with enormous energy, and the ability to push himself to the limits of human endurance.

Inevitably Maigret was a hostile presence in the Majestic. He constituted a kind of foreign body that the hotel's atmosphere could not assimilate.

Not that he looked like a cartoon policeman. He didn't have a moustache and he didn't wear heavy boots. His clothes were well cut and made of fairly light worsted. He shaved every day and looked after his hands.

But his frame was proletarian. He was a big, bony man. His firm muscles filled out his jacket and quickly pulled all his trousers out of shape.

He had a way of imposing himself just by standing there. His assertive presence had often irked many of his own colleagues.

In many ways PIETR THE LATVIAN gave a good idea of the style that readers could expect in future novels, as well a structure that makes the reader work hard to follow the plot lines.It introduces both Maigret and the long suffering Madame Maigret who at one stage cooks meals for three days without knowing whether her husband will be home to eat them, indeed not knowing what he is up to.

In his exploration of international crime rings that manipulate world-wide economies Simenon shared similar concerns to his contemporary Agatha Christie who was also convinced of the control of world economies and politics by evil forces.

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This is the third Simenon/Maigret novel I have read. I am hoping to learn that it is considered a lesser Maigret novel, because it sure is a lesser novel overall. Oddly long in comparison with the other two I've read, it is largely a cat and mouse game in which the reader just has to trust that the

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cat (Maigret) isn't yet fully allowed to actually pounce on his mouse.

The plot is simple enough: Someone dies on a train, and Maigret figures out who caused the death. The end is pretty solid, the picture drawn of antagonisms and how they come into unexpected fruition. But you could almost skip from the first or second chapter until chapter 15, and just listen in as Maigret confronts the guilty party.

Simenon is known for his supposed restraint and subtlety, but if this volume is considered an exercise in subtlety, then the novels of its time must have been seriously histrionic.

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First time reading Maigret, actually starting with the first book in a series for a change. Great detective novel, the main character Maigret is practically portrayed as a force of nature, a solid slab of determination whose simple task of tracking down a well-known confidence man becomes

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complicated when the bodies start piling up. The mood is dark and gritty, which suits me just fine. It's the kind of book that makes you want to read more. Luckily for me, there are a lot more.

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No one can claim to be a true fan of crime fiction without at least having heard of Georges Simenon and his iconic Inspector Maigret. With my rather poor track record in reading classic crime, it's taken me awhile to sample this series. Pietr the Latvian is listed as the very first Maigret mystery,

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originally published in 1930, and it has all the earmarks of an author trying out new ideas.

From the very beginning, I felt as though I'd been dropped on my head in the midst of the story. Although the feeling of disorientation gradually wore off, it did return from time to time. From the first, there is something grand about Maigret, and it's not just that he's "a mountain of a man." There are some wonderful descriptive passages throughout the book, but there are also places where Simenon drops the plot and wanders a bit-- and I never did quite understand why Pietr the Latvian was such a major criminal.

This new translation reads exceptionally well-- no dated feel to it at all-- but the original was written almost ninety years ago. Simenon was a writer of his time, so if his occasional unflattering references to Jews and Eastern European men are offensive, consider it as a period piece. Even though I could see Simenon experimenting throughout this book, I could also see many instances of brilliant writing and strong storytelling-- proof of what this series would become. I'm not going to be in a huge hurry to continue with Maigret, but this is certainly a series to which I will return.

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This was ok in a gritty noirish way, but it lost a few points for me in the ambiBaltic/Slavic/Scandinavian mashup of the (mild spoiler) brother duo of Pietr and Hans Johannson. Born in Pskov (Estonian: Pihkva), Russia with a surname that seems Swedish, they attend Tartu University in Estonia where

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brother Pietr became the "Master" of the "Ugala Club" (presumably Korp! Ugala) student organization before he eventually turns to a life of crime. Latvia didn't seem to enter into it, except for being part of his criminal legend/cover. It probably seemed like an interesting assortment of exotic sounding place names that Simenon bunched together regardless of whether they made sense.

This 1931 novel was book no. 1 of 76 in the Inspector Maigret series that the very prolific Georges Simenon wrote and which are currently being published in new English translations by Penguin since 2013.

p.s. I read that Rowan Atkinson is due to play Inspector Maigret in a future series of TV films, which certainly sounds like casting against type, so we'll see what comes of that.

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Oooh, looks like I found a new mystery series to read. Odd that I am not familiar with the character of Maigret before now. Saw that there was a BBC series done with Mr. Bean as Maigret. See quotes of famous authors of the 20th century likening him to Chekov and others. Wow. Read this in one

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Saturday afternoon when my wife and son were away in NC visiting her sister.

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Listened to the audiobook so often fell asleep and had to rewind. OK but I often lost a sense of what was going on and there were times where it's reflection of 1930s attitudes were uncomfortable.

The case at the heart of PIETR THE LATVIAN is at once complicated and not terribly interesting. It should be interesting. There is an internationally known con man and mysterious identity doubles and some pretty shocking happenings that ought to have gripped me. But somehow it read like some

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distant relative’s journal of their trip to a place that doesn’t have a tourist board. I listened to a recently published audio version and at several points realised my mind had wandered and I didn’t know what had just happened. Or care very much. I did persevere (not least because there were other things to like about the novel) but if you’re the kind of reader who needs an engaging plot this might not be the one for you.

I did enjoy the fact that it was quite different from its English and American contemporaries, although I would say it’s closer to the American style if pressed. It’s got a very European sensibility though, with a missive from the 1930 version of Interpol setting the whole thing in motion and lots of cross border activity and people from all over Europe playing key roles in the story. There’s more than a hint of French existentialism too which is possibly why the story did not engage me as much as I might have hoped (I blame Sartre for my one failed course at university). There are hints of the hard-boiled though and any of the situations that would, in an English equivalent, provide some glamour are instead full of grit and solemnity here. And although there is a lot of legwork there’s precious little of the detecting that a traditional procedural would offer. It’s all hunches and pipe smoking and observing human behaviour that solves the crime here.

I also liked the introduction of Maigret because do get to know quite a bit about him, at least outwardly, which is not always the case in mystery fiction of the era.

He didn’t have a moustache and he didn’t wear heavy boots. His clothes were well cut and made of fairly light worsted. He shaved every day and looked after his hands. But his frame was proletarian. He was a big, bony man. Iron muscles shaped his jacket sleeves and quickly wore through new trousers. He had a way of imposing himself just by standing there. His assertive presence had often irked many of his own colleagues.

We also learn that he likes his beer (or really any alcohol at all at pretty much any time of the day) and to warm himself via the coal stove in his office. His inner life is more difficult to discern, though we find out he is unable to cry even when the situation might reasonably call for it and he’s also pretty darned resilient. By my reckoning he goes for about three days without sleep at one point (fulled by beer and sandwiches) and performs some quite amazing physical feats after being shot. In the TV adaptations Maigret’s wife is quite prominently featured but this is either an invention of the script writers or comes later in the novel series. Here Madame Maigret is barely mentioned and her only purpose is to fluff the Inspector’s pillows towards the very end of the novel.

As far as its setting goes both time and place are quite evocatively brought to life. This makes the book enjoyable but also awkward. Some of the attitudes about race in general and Jews in particular make the modern reader wince and it’s not hard to remember that at this time not very far away the National Socialists were gaining popularity in Germany.

So, even though I wasn’t swept away by the story I did find quite a lot to enjoy about this book and will definitely read later books in the series at some stage. My version was wonderfully narrated by Garth Armstrong (though his accents are all English if that matters to you, I prefer that to fake French ones but it’s worth mentioning) and has been recently re-translated by David Bellos in what feels like a very authentic manner.

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Maegrete is a man's man. He doesn't express emotions, but he understands them and knows what he sees. This is the first volume I've read...there are more --many more!-- to help flesh out the skin and bones that make up this hero.

Penguin Books has undertaken to publish each of Georges Simenon's Maigret novels in a new translation, with a new one coming out each month. Published in 1931 this was the first novel in the series, and, sadly it shows. If i had read this when it first came out i don't think that i would have

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bothered to read any subsequent instalments.

Unfortunately this novel was just too disjointed,and the character of Maigret was just too frenetic, and I found myself rather disappointed. Fortunately I know how good the series became later on, so I will persevere with the next few volumes at least.

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Who is the enigmatic Latvian of the title? In this first Inspecteur Maigret mystery, the famous detective gets a detailed portrayal of the man in code from the international police service, describing the criminal down to every detail of the construction of his ears (because impossible to alter

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with a disguise). A train arrives in Paris in which the Latvian is supposedly travelling, but his compartment contains the body of a dead man, who, but for his clothes, seems to resemble exactly the description Maigret had gotten. Only... moments before the inspector saw another man richly dressed, who also had the right earlobe shape. Hard to describe the atmosphere of this book, gritty, hardboiled noir, redolent with street lights reflected in rain puddles and cigarette smoke, or more accurately pipe smoke, one of our hero's vices, and unique in style, quite different from the American literature of this genre I've read before, this story about the hunt for what might be a ghost grabbed me right from the beginning and is a perfect introduction to the inspector.

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This, the first of 75 Maigret novels, is a strangely unsympathetic introduction to the character that emphasizes his flaws more than his skills as a detective.

It’s written in a minimalist staccato style that gives the prose a constant underlying sense of urgency, even in scenes where not much is

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happening. Unfortunately that same constant rhythm robs some of the more dramatic elements of their impact.

The plot itself sort of meanders through its twists and turns, and has a somewhat anticlimactic ending.

Not an auspicious start, but I will probably still dip into a couple more Maigrets from later in the run to see how they progress. A insert in the book highlights six titles as Simeon’s “great novels” so I’ll try one of those next.

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The first appearance of one of the great fictional characters of the twentieth century. And remarkably enough, it's essentially the same Maigret who was still going strong forty years later. The pipe, the overcoat, the constant bad weather, and his - almost - imperturbable authority. And Mme

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Maigret cooking in the background. There's a wonderful scene, quite early in the book, where Maigret is standing patiently in the middle of a turbulent crowd at the Gare du Nord, waiting for his man to get off a train: "Lui restait là, énorme, avec ses épaules impressionantes qui dessinaient une grande ombre. On le bousculait et il n'oscillait pas plus qu'un mur." Maigret in two sentences.
As a mystery it's a bit feeble, with a plot as old as Shakespeare, but you don't read Maigrets for the plots, do you?

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Georges Simenon created a series of mystery novels featuring Detective Chief Inspector Maigret of the Paris police. I've read only a few of them, but I'm always on the lookout for more. On the back cover of [Pietr the Latvian], Maigret is described in a passage in the second chapter:

Not that he

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looked like a cartoon policeman. He didn't have a mustache and he didn't wear heavy boots. His clothes were well cut and made of fairly light worsted. He shaved every day and looked after his hands.
  But his frame was proletarian. He was a big bony man. Iron muscles shaped his jacket sleeves and quickly wore through new trousers.
  He had a way of imposing himself just by standing there. His assertive presence had often irked many of his own colleagues.

Pietr the Latvian was published in 1930, the first Maigret novel. In it, the Inspector and investigators across Europe are seeking an elusive swindler who connects with wealthy sorts, befriends them, then somehow steals, extorts, and/or defrauds them of their riches. As the story begins, Maigret meets a train that traveled from the north into Paris. Methodically he scans the passengers getting off and focuses on a particular well-dressed man who is trailed by a trio of porters. Maigret knows this fellow from detailed descriptions filed by agents in many European cities. Since he knows the fellow's destination, he doesn't follow. But he does respond to an alarm about a dead man found in the toilet of a train carriage. Curiously, the man closely resembles the fugitive. He's been shot in the chest at close range. Miagret takes particular note that the man's shoes are cheaply made and very worn. When uniformed policemen arrive, Maigret instructs them on the disposition of the body, then departs.

The ensuing investigation involves almost endless surveillance of an attractive woman believed to be the Latvian's wife and another woman believed to be a girlfriend, as well as a wealthy couple believed to be the Latvian's current target. By the end, Maigret has literally gotten into bed with his suspect.

You should read it. If you are like me, you'll be hooked. Don't worry. Before his death, Simenon wrote 75 Maigret novels and 28 stories.

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An early Maigret, a bit less plausible than the later obes

That didn't impress me much.
Maigret is on the job, and he doesn't want no stinkin' champagne:
"Most people here were in formal attire, but there were also a few foreigners in lounge suits. Maigret waved away a hostess who tried to sit at his table. A bottle of champagne was put in front of him,

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automatically. There were streamers all about. Puffer balls flew through the air. One landed on maigret's nose, and he glowered at the old lady who'd aimed it at him."

Maigret gets shot at outside the theater/Cafe, but he can't stop now. He gets in a cab and returns to the hotel where pietr and the mortimers are, And where his partner has a stakeout:
"at last he caught sight of the Mortimers' Suiye and beside it, the door of the room where Torrance was to be found. He got to the door, walking slightly crabwise, pushed it open....
He had to try three times over. As soon as he took his hand off his wound, blood spurted out of it at an alarming rate. Finally he took the towel that was lying on the table and wedged it under his waistcoat, which he fastened as tight as he could. The smell in the room made him nauseous.
He lifted one end of the settee with weak arms and swung it around on two of its legs. It was what he expected: Torrance, all crumpled up with his shoulder twisted round as if he had his bones broken to make him fit into a small space...
Torrance with dead! Magrette twisted his lips and clenched his fists. His eyes clouded over and he uttered a terrible oath in the shut and silent room."

Maigret tries to understand how the Latvian can look like two different people:
"maigret was two heads taller than Pietr. They were both facing the mirror, and gazed at each other in that pewter-tinted screen.
The latvian's face began to decompose, starting with his eyes. He snapped his white dry-skinned fingers, then wiped his forehead with his hand. A struggle then slowly began on his face. In the mirror maigret saw now the guest of the majestic, now the face of anna gorskin's tormented lover.
But the second visage didn't emerge in full. It kept getting pushed back by immense muscular effort. Only the eyes of pietr's Russian self stayed stable. He was hanging onto the edge of the counter with his left hand. His body was swaying."

"The Two Pietrs:
Maigret had never seen a man get drunk at such lightning speed. It's true he had also never seen anyone fill a tumbler to the brim with whiskey, knock it back, refill it, knock the second glass back, then do the same a third time before shaking the bottle over his mouth to get the last few drops of 104° proof Spirit down his throat.
The effect was impressive. Pietr went crimson and the next minute he was as white as a sheet, with blotches of red on his cheeks. His lips lost their color. He steadied himself on the low table, staggered about, then said with the detachment of a true drunk:
'this is what you wanted, isn't it?...'
He laughed uncertainly, expressing a whole range of things: fear, irony, bitterness and maybe despair. He tried to hold onto a chair but knocked it over, then wiped his damp brow....
what he was watching was the same transformation he'd seen that morning, but on a scale 10 times, a hundred times greater."

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My first Maigret and the first Maigret.

It was interesting to see many of the existentialist themes with which Simenon grapples in his other work here in a procedural format. While the noir genre does deal with anxieties about identity and gender, in Simenon's hands noir is a cultural critique of

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all of these anxieties brought to a head between the two World Wars.

In Maigret and the Enigmatic Lett, Maigret faces the brick wall most detective face: circumstantial evidence. While he tries to amass concrete evidence against Pietr Lett, a known criminal on paper but whose life is too clean to place him under arrest, Simenon personalizes Maigret: we see his penchant for cigar smoking and standing too close to stoves for warmth; we see him using his physical body as part of the questioning process; we see him caring for his colleagues and yet also worried that this somehow shows a crack in the veneer of his masculinity. I imagine these are all traits Simenon uses to further make Maigret a real personage to readers in the rest of the Maigret books.

While trying to collect information, Maigret faces a case of mixed, doubled, and uncertain identities; this is something Simenon spends a lot of time on—and he even does this in his non-Maigret books, at least from those that I've read—for the way identity is shattered and destabilized in this specific time period in France. Simenon's strength as a writer of detective fiction/police procedurals speaks to his talent evident elsewhere with regard to pacing, an insistence on alienating the reader to underscore the characters—states of alienation, and a deft manipulation of a fictional personal crisis into an metacommentary of a very real national one.

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3.5*

While I didn't think it was as good as some of the later Maigret books, it was interesting to see how Simenon originally envisioned him.

Things I found while reading this book:

'You could sense he'd just come in from outside. There was still some cooler air in the folds of his clothes.' There is a beauty in this sentence, it made me almost sniff the air to feel the coolness.

Many fictional detectives of a certain era seem to have a

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specific inanimate object about them. Poirot - his too tight shoes, Miss Marple - her knitting, and Maigret his over-fuelled stove.

I enjoyed this but I didn't love it. Not sure if I'll read the next 74 Maigret novels. ;)

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