Vernon Subutex 1 by Virginie Despentes

The original (French) version of
Vernon Subutex was published
in 2015

After finishing my extra French book, Faces on the Tip of My Tongue, my original choice as a representation of French literature still hadn't arrived in the post and so, treading water in the land of Gauls, I picked a third book. 

We've moved up to Paris for a book that is titled the same in both French and English (and I'm guessing every other language it has been translated into) the International Booker short listed, Vernon Subutex 1.

Virginie Despentes (real name Daget) was born in 1969 in Nancy, France and seems to have had a troubled upbringing. At the age of 15 her parents had her sectioned for behaviour which she herself says would have been acceptable, except for the accident of her being born female.

After dropping out of education at 17 Virginie hitchhiked and followed rock bands, during which time she was raped. Finding herself in Lyon she worked as a maid, a prostitute, in a record store, a freelance rock journalist, and a pornographic film critic. 

I don't think Virginie Despentes
could look any more French if
she was riding a bicycle made
of baguettes

Virginie poured these various experiences into an aggressively unapologetic novel Baise-moi (Fuck Me). The novel was not particularly well received by either those on the right or left. Following, as it did, a pair of prostitutes who go on a killing spree after one of them is raped, it depicts a side of life conservative elements found distasteful. But equally it didn't present things in a way more progressive feminist elements found palatable. The controversy though, did Despentes no harm and her literary career took off.

Vernon Subutex takes place in what seems like familiar territory for Despentes, the shabby underbelly of Parisian life, frequented by ageing rockers, ex-porn stars, journalists and right-wing screen writers. Though the narrative pulls no punches, I never got the sense any element had been added for its shock value.

Unlike most recent literary novels Vernon Subutex is a weighty tome, coming in at an apt 666 pages, and this is only the first volume of three. Goodreads lists it as "part social epic, part punk-rock thriller," but I think they are using a very loose sense for 'thriller,' a sense that involves no thrills. For very little actually happens. The titular Vernon descends from a precarious existence being financially propped up, to couch surfing, to full blown homelessness. But, though it lacks thrills it is far from boring. The meat of the book is in the Dickensian digressions into the back stories of the circle of friends involved in this slow descent. We are treated to various points of view, some of them unsavoury, but all told with conviction. I think I am right in saying Despentes does not describe herself as a feminist, or maybe she didn't but does now. Either way I found the male points of view more compelling than the female. Particularly interesting was Xavier Fardin, who's bigoted views were relayed in a manner very much akin to the rationalisation of Tiny Tommy Robinson's crew (I am less familiar with his French counterparts), in that they make a kind of internal sense, just so long as you keep a very narrow view and don't question the 'facts' you're being fed.

You don't see the Parisian flag very often

It is hard to judge the book in isolation from the other two in the trilogy. But the fact that it kept me engaged for the entire 666 pages, with no plot, and wanting to carry on with the following instalments, is a win. The prose was engaging and amusing, while also raising deeper questions. However, with out knowing exactly where its going, I don't think I can give it more than ★★★★☆, maybe I shall review this score when I have finished the trilogy (which I will).