What do you think?
Rate this book
The Mysteries of Paris
The first new translation in over a century of the brilliant epic novel that inspired Les Miserables.
From July 1842 through October 1843, Parisians rushed to the newspaper each week for the latest instalment of Eugene Sue's The Mysteries of Paris, one of France's first serial novels. The suspenseful story of Rodolphe, a magnetic hero of noble heart and shadowy origins, played out over ninety issues, garnering wild popularity and leading many to call it the most widely read novel of the 19th century. Sue's novel created the city mystery genre and inspired a raft of successors, including Les Miserables and The Count of Monte Cristo.
Sensational, steamy, tightly-plotted, pulpy, proto-socialist, heartbreaking, and riveting, The Mysteries of Paris is doubtless one of the most entertaining and influential works to emerge from the 19th century.
From July 1842 through October 1843, Parisians rushed to the newspaper each week for the latest instalment of Eugene Sue's The Mysteries of Paris, one of France's first serial novels. The suspenseful story of Rodolphe, a magnetic hero of noble heart and shadowy origins, played out over ninety issues, garnering wild popularity and leading many to call it the most widely read novel of the 19th century. Sue's novel created the city mystery genre and inspired a raft of successors, including Les Miserables and The Count of Monte Cristo.
Sensational, steamy, tightly-plotted, pulpy, proto-socialist, heartbreaking, and riveting, The Mysteries of Paris is doubtless one of the most entertaining and influential works to emerge from the 19th century.
800 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1843
About the author
Eugène Sue
1,585 books57 followersFrom Wikipedia:
Joseph Marie Eugène Sue (20 January 1804 – 3 August 1857) was a French novelist.
He was born in Paris, the son of a distinguished surgeon in Napoleon's army, and is said to have had the Empress Joséphine for godmother. Sue himself acted as surgeon both in the Spanish campaign undertaken by France in 1823 and at the Battle of Navarino (1828). In 1829 his father's death put him in possession of a considerable fortune, and he settled in Paris.
A street in Paris is named for Eugene Sue, in the 18th Arrondissement: Rue Eugene Sue is located near the Poissonnière Metro station, and is not far from Montmartre and the Basilica of the Sacré Coeur.
Joseph Marie Eugène Sue (20 January 1804 – 3 August 1857) was a French novelist.
He was born in Paris, the son of a distinguished surgeon in Napoleon's army, and is said to have had the Empress Joséphine for godmother. Sue himself acted as surgeon both in the Spanish campaign undertaken by France in 1823 and at the Battle of Navarino (1828). In 1829 his father's death put him in possession of a considerable fortune, and he settled in Paris.
A street in Paris is named for Eugene Sue, in the 18th Arrondissement: Rue Eugene Sue is located near the Poissonnière Metro station, and is not far from Montmartre and the Basilica of the Sacré Coeur.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews
July 25, 2023
… I won’t let the last leg of this affect my mark (it was awful soap, and I’m disappointed in him that he cannot let his ex-prostitute marry happily. He has been so radical, and so feminist among other things). Obviously this ‘book’ was a live thing in its maker’s hands, that changed shape as he wrote the serial instalments, and listened to his public, and changed himself. Along the way he began to call himself a socialist, as he got a speedy education through a project he had started as just another potboiler. This is a fascinating novel, not least for how it was composed. I’d like to get hold of the study that examines it as the first crowd-written fiction, ‘by the people for the people’: For the People by the People? Eugene Sue's Les Mysteres de Paris--A Hypothesis in the Sociology of Literature. People communicated with him who weren’t literate, and had their experiences incorporated.
It caught on because it’s a thriller, sensational, but at the same time a scandalously realist social document. With a plot faster than Monte Cristo, and an exploration of society’s underworlds more intrepid than Les Miserables, it influenced both. These more famous authors took from Sue and made him more polite. Yes, that’s a reason to read this extraordinary book.
Feminist? There’s an abortionist in these pages (I couldn’t remember abortionists in other 19thC lit – remind me), and crucially, the women who visit him are not wicked, they are unfortunate. There’s an argument against husbands’ sudden rights to sex upon marriage, when girls have been brought up to be queasy. It’s a fine piece of understanding a woman’s psychology, may I say.
Radical? He proposes a Bank for the Poor, with interest-free loans to unemployed workers. And so on. Sue either suggests or illustrates new endeavours and ideas to tackle inequality on the streets of Paris.
His position? This is of the tribe of ‘Utopian Socialist’ literature, pre-Marxism, and which, as the Penguin introduction tells us, Marx scorned as unscientific. It was the tribe Dostoyevsky belonged to when he was a young revolutionary, for these French Utopian Socialist writers were a big fashion in Russia. The school is sentimentalist and not afraid to lean on Christ’s Sermon on the Mount. Let me avow myself: give me pre-scientific socialism any day.
But before I go on too much about its social interest, I’d better repeat, it’s a thriller. He takes us to the seamy side for shock and horror, as well as a big dose of social concern. I won’t accept that he can only write stereotypes. His declared belief that people are good at bottom is evident in the salvation of several villains. His Bruce Wayne-Batman German prince in disguise helps the virtuous and punishes the vicious – but he is a Dark Knight Batman, with his hatred of evil presented as obsessive and ugly. Let me mention the She-Wolf and Rigolette. Splendid young women each in her own way, and not usual types at all in 19thC fiction.
It caught on because it’s a thriller, sensational, but at the same time a scandalously realist social document. With a plot faster than Monte Cristo, and an exploration of society’s underworlds more intrepid than Les Miserables, it influenced both. These more famous authors took from Sue and made him more polite. Yes, that’s a reason to read this extraordinary book.
Feminist? There’s an abortionist in these pages (I couldn’t remember abortionists in other 19thC lit – remind me), and crucially, the women who visit him are not wicked, they are unfortunate. There’s an argument against husbands’ sudden rights to sex upon marriage, when girls have been brought up to be queasy. It’s a fine piece of understanding a woman’s psychology, may I say.
Radical? He proposes a Bank for the Poor, with interest-free loans to unemployed workers. And so on. Sue either suggests or illustrates new endeavours and ideas to tackle inequality on the streets of Paris.
His position? This is of the tribe of ‘Utopian Socialist’ literature, pre-Marxism, and which, as the Penguin introduction tells us, Marx scorned as unscientific. It was the tribe Dostoyevsky belonged to when he was a young revolutionary, for these French Utopian Socialist writers were a big fashion in Russia. The school is sentimentalist and not afraid to lean on Christ’s Sermon on the Mount. Let me avow myself: give me pre-scientific socialism any day.
But before I go on too much about its social interest, I’d better repeat, it’s a thriller. He takes us to the seamy side for shock and horror, as well as a big dose of social concern. I won’t accept that he can only write stereotypes. His declared belief that people are good at bottom is evident in the salvation of several villains. His Bruce Wayne-Batman German prince in disguise helps the virtuous and punishes the vicious – but he is a Dark Knight Batman, with his hatred of evil presented as obsessive and ugly. Let me mention the She-Wolf and Rigolette. Splendid young women each in her own way, and not usual types at all in 19thC fiction.
August 6, 2022
نوشتن داستان کلی برای این کتاب آسون نیست چون از اسمش هم مشخصه که راز های پاریس و همین علامت جمع برای راز نشون میده ما با چند جریان تو در تو طرفیم. ولی به هر حال داستان از اینجا شروع میشه که مردی ناشناس در خیابان از دختر فقیری حمایت میکنه و بعد با هم شام میخورن و دختر داستان زندگیش رو برای مرد تعریف میکنه و از اینجا طی چند ماجرا داستانهایی برای دختر و مرد پیش میاد. داستان کلاسیک با تم فیلم هندی و فیلم فارسی. داستان در کل با سطح انتظار سالی که نوشته شده بد نبود اما ترجمه و مخصوصا ویراستاری افتضاح بود. دو ستاره فقط و فقط برای داستان.ه
February 5, 2020
Acknowledgments
Foreword
Translators' Introduction
--The Mysteries of Paris
Letter from Eugène Sue to the Editor of 'Le Journal des Débats'
French Currency in the Nineteenth Century
Foreword
Translators' Introduction
--The Mysteries of Paris
Letter from Eugène Sue to the Editor of 'Le Journal des Débats'
French Currency in the Nineteenth Century
August 5, 2020
Anche i ricchi piangono (dei poveri già lo sappiamo...)
Si sentono i passi in questo lunghissimo romanzo.
Si sentono i passi pesanti di uno scrittore nato per caso.
Non un amante della letteratura a cui dedica la vita ma un dandy che, dilapidata l’eredità paterna e incapace di fare altro, si dedica alla scrittura.
Il successo arriva con una serie di feuilleton che lo rendono popolare.
Tra il 1842 e il 1843 escono, su Le journal des débats, « Les Mystères de Paris », che oggi leggiamo in un unico tomo di oltre 1100 pagine, e a cui sono arrivata perché sembrano abbiano ispirato (mi auguro solo nel titolo...) “I misteri di Marsiglia” che Zola scrisse venticinquenne anni dopo (1867).
Ma i passi si sentono, dicevo, nel senso che inizialmente Sue si affaccia alla storia che vuole raccontare in modo incerto.
La tentazione di abbandonarlo dopo poche pagine ammetto di averla avuta.
Siamo nei sobborghi più malfamati di Parigi, un certo Rodolphe sente per caso le urla di qualcuno che chiede aiuto ed interviene.
Si tratta di una giovanissima prostituta di nome Fleur-de-Marie () aggredita da un omaccione che - guarda caso- è chiamato "Chourineur" ("lo squartatore").
Da subito un susseguirsi di scene e dialoghi inverosimili anche per l’ambientazione del romanzo (1838).
Dopo la colluttazione questi tre improbabili personaggi si recano come vecchi amici in una taverna e si fanno confidenze sulla propria vita passata come fossero vecchi amici che si ritrovano dopo tanto tempo.
Il romanzo procede e scopriamo (senza gran stupore perché si era capito) che Rodolphe non è quello che vuole far credere ma addirittura un principe tedesco in missione umanitaria.
Ora devo dire che questa è la parte che mi ha divertito di più e ha fatto sì che non abbandonassi il libro.
Da piccola ero appassionata de “Il giustiziere della notte” e quindi l’uomo vendicatore mi affascina.
Ma alla fin fine è proprio il senso di giustizia a far sì che io dia un giudizio severo a quest’opera.
Per rispetto non solo a penne più raffinate ma a romanzi che oggi possiamo indicare come classici sia in virtù del tempo trascorso ma anche perché reggono e non lasciano quel sapore di stantìo a fine lettura.
Non entrerò dei dettagli della trama che gioca sì sul mistero ma lascia vedere bene il suo scheletro che è, in tutta evidenza. di stampo pedagogico.
Sue, infatti, assume più che altro il ruolo di maestro delle masse così succede che spesso e volentieri interviene nella storia dando lezioni vere e proprie con una vaga idea socialista e con una forte impronta cattolica.
Dio, infatti, c’è, vede e provvede attraverso le mani del principe Rodolphe che, con un vero e proprio sistema di contrappasso dantesco, si occupa delle tante ingiustizie terrene.
Su questo piano ricchi e poveri sono uguali ed entrambi sono schierati:
o subiscono o giocano la parte dei carnefici.
Non è tanto la differenza di ceto ma la profonda distanza tra gli estremi:
dal nero profondo di una disumana cattiveria al bianco candido di anime fin troppo candide e prossime al martirio.
Lui, Rodolphe si traveste, inganna, e colpisce anche violentemente, in nome di quel fine che giustifica i mezzi.
In tutto ciò, Sue infila delle scenette di un umorismo che, a mio parere oggi non ha senso.
Quello che in definitiva non funziona è il fatto che i personaggi sono con troppa evidenza marionette di cui vediamo i fili.
Non sono loro a parlare ma la teoria che Sue vuole impartire ai lettori.
L’immaginazione, motore di un romanzo, è usata per indottrinare e più si va avanti nella lettura più questo meccanismo si fa sfacciato.
Prima di raccontare la sorte di alcuni personaggi finiti in prigione, ad esempio, Sue intrattiene criticando la legislazione dell’epoca e prospettando soluzioni carcerarie differenti; la stessa cosa per quanto riguarda la scena di due condannate a morte dove ad un certo punto l’autore dice:
“Ora, la pena è insufficiente per coloro che se ne fanno beffe...
Inutile per quelli che sono morti moralmente...
Eccessiva per quelli che si pentono sinceramente.
Ripetiamo: la società non uccide l’assassino né per farlo soffrire né per infliggergli la legge del taglione... Essa lo uccide per metterlo nell’impossibilità di nuocere... lo uccide perché l’esempio della sua punizione serva da freno ai futuri assassini.
Per quel che ci riguarda, noi crediamo che la pena è troppo barbara e che non riesca a incutere abbastanza paura...
Noi crediamo che in certi delitti, come il parricidio o simili, l’acciecamento e un isolamento perpetuo metterebbero il colpevole nell’impossibilità di nuocere e lo punirebbero in modo mille volte più terribile lasciandogli anche il tempo di pentirsi e di espiare.”
Così ogni scena è introdotta e/o interrotta da questi discutibili interventi.
Un limite che rende questo classico un’opera di narrativa sensazionale all’epoca in cui fu scritta ma non certo di grande valore letterario oggi.
Si sentono i passi in questo lunghissimo romanzo.
Si sentono i passi pesanti di uno scrittore nato per caso.
Non un amante della letteratura a cui dedica la vita ma un dandy che, dilapidata l’eredità paterna e incapace di fare altro, si dedica alla scrittura.
Il successo arriva con una serie di feuilleton che lo rendono popolare.
Tra il 1842 e il 1843 escono, su Le journal des débats, « Les Mystères de Paris », che oggi leggiamo in un unico tomo di oltre 1100 pagine, e a cui sono arrivata perché sembrano abbiano ispirato (mi auguro solo nel titolo...) “I misteri di Marsiglia” che Zola scrisse venticinquenne anni dopo (1867).
Ma i passi si sentono, dicevo, nel senso che inizialmente Sue si affaccia alla storia che vuole raccontare in modo incerto.
La tentazione di abbandonarlo dopo poche pagine ammetto di averla avuta.
Siamo nei sobborghi più malfamati di Parigi, un certo Rodolphe sente per caso le urla di qualcuno che chiede aiuto ed interviene.
Si tratta di una giovanissima prostituta di nome Fleur-de-Marie () aggredita da un omaccione che - guarda caso- è chiamato "Chourineur" ("lo squartatore").
Da subito un susseguirsi di scene e dialoghi inverosimili anche per l’ambientazione del romanzo (1838).
Dopo la colluttazione questi tre improbabili personaggi si recano come vecchi amici in una taverna e si fanno confidenze sulla propria vita passata come fossero vecchi amici che si ritrovano dopo tanto tempo.
Il romanzo procede e scopriamo (senza gran stupore perché si era capito) che Rodolphe non è quello che vuole far credere ma addirittura un principe tedesco in missione umanitaria.
Ora devo dire che questa è la parte che mi ha divertito di più e ha fatto sì che non abbandonassi il libro.
Da piccola ero appassionata de “Il giustiziere della notte” e quindi l’uomo vendicatore mi affascina.
Ma alla fin fine è proprio il senso di giustizia a far sì che io dia un giudizio severo a quest’opera.
Per rispetto non solo a penne più raffinate ma a romanzi che oggi possiamo indicare come classici sia in virtù del tempo trascorso ma anche perché reggono e non lasciano quel sapore di stantìo a fine lettura.
Non entrerò dei dettagli della trama che gioca sì sul mistero ma lascia vedere bene il suo scheletro che è, in tutta evidenza. di stampo pedagogico.
Sue, infatti, assume più che altro il ruolo di maestro delle masse così succede che spesso e volentieri interviene nella storia dando lezioni vere e proprie con una vaga idea socialista e con una forte impronta cattolica.
Dio, infatti, c’è, vede e provvede attraverso le mani del principe Rodolphe che, con un vero e proprio sistema di contrappasso dantesco, si occupa delle tante ingiustizie terrene.
Su questo piano ricchi e poveri sono uguali ed entrambi sono schierati:
o subiscono o giocano la parte dei carnefici.
Non è tanto la differenza di ceto ma la profonda distanza tra gli estremi:
dal nero profondo di una disumana cattiveria al bianco candido di anime fin troppo candide e prossime al martirio.
Lui, Rodolphe si traveste, inganna, e colpisce anche violentemente, in nome di quel fine che giustifica i mezzi.
In tutto ciò, Sue infila delle scenette di un umorismo che, a mio parere oggi non ha senso.
Quello che in definitiva non funziona è il fatto che i personaggi sono con troppa evidenza marionette di cui vediamo i fili.
Non sono loro a parlare ma la teoria che Sue vuole impartire ai lettori.
L’immaginazione, motore di un romanzo, è usata per indottrinare e più si va avanti nella lettura più questo meccanismo si fa sfacciato.
Prima di raccontare la sorte di alcuni personaggi finiti in prigione, ad esempio, Sue intrattiene criticando la legislazione dell’epoca e prospettando soluzioni carcerarie differenti; la stessa cosa per quanto riguarda la scena di due condannate a morte dove ad un certo punto l’autore dice:
“Ora, la pena è insufficiente per coloro che se ne fanno beffe...
Inutile per quelli che sono morti moralmente...
Eccessiva per quelli che si pentono sinceramente.
Ripetiamo: la società non uccide l’assassino né per farlo soffrire né per infliggergli la legge del taglione... Essa lo uccide per metterlo nell’impossibilità di nuocere... lo uccide perché l’esempio della sua punizione serva da freno ai futuri assassini.
Per quel che ci riguarda, noi crediamo che la pena è troppo barbara e che non riesca a incutere abbastanza paura...
Noi crediamo che in certi delitti, come il parricidio o simili, l’acciecamento e un isolamento perpetuo metterebbero il colpevole nell’impossibilità di nuocere e lo punirebbero in modo mille volte più terribile lasciandogli anche il tempo di pentirsi e di espiare.”
Così ogni scena è introdotta e/o interrotta da questi discutibili interventi.
Un limite che rende questo classico un’opera di narrativa sensazionale all’epoca in cui fu scritta ma non certo di grande valore letterario oggi.
April 6, 2012
Like Dickens, but darker.
January 13, 2017
Really 3 and a half. I took off a half star because I wasn't all that happy with the epilogue. I thought some parts of the book were better than others, but over all I did enjoy it. The author did a good job keeping track of all the major characters and plot lines, wrapping each one up by the end of the book. The author also keeps the reader informed of who each character is and what they've been doing by occasionally giving the reader a recap. (This was probably even more important when this story was originally published in serial form.) I can see how this work was inspiring to subsequent French authors, and how it helped to start social reforms. An interesting novel.
March 4, 2016
Review originally published here: http://girlwithherheadinabook.co.uk/2...
Weighing in at nearly one and a half thousand pages, The Mysteries of Paris is an intimidating book by anyone’s standards. Serialised over a sixteen month period in the 1840s, it was a sensation in its day, inspiring Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Having never heard of it before, I was surprised at how familiar it felt; the dark and frightening underbelly of Paris is not so very different from Dickens’ account of Victorian London, the waifs and strays remind me also of Guy de Maupassant’s short stories (yes, half of my degree was in French literature) but there is also more than a few characters who recall the main players of Hugo’s masterpiece. However, there were also moments of extraordinary darkness, moments which reveal a society which still remembers all too well the days of revolutionary lawlessness, where the characters know that they can rely on nobody for aid – The Mysteries of Paris is almost Shakespearean in the peaks and troughs which it deals out to the protagonists.
The central protagonist is the enigmatic Rodolphe, an apparent Parisian worker who is really a German duke in disguise. He goes about settling the affairs of the lesser men, rescuing those who he feels can be redeemed and punishing those who he judges beyond penitence. At the time, many Parisian citizens believed that these ‘courts of morality’ were a good idea, so in some ways The Mysteries of Paris presents what was to many an ideal, even when at times Rodolphe’s methods appear medieval. He is aided in his mission by English nobleman Sir Walter Murph and a young ex-slave doctor known as David, all of whom are individuals truly pure of heart and conscience but overshadowed by the dark memories of old betrayals, the true natures of which only become clear as the novel goes on.
As a historical piece, this is a truly fascinating novel – long before Les Miserables, Sue reveals the working classes as people, and as victims of their inhumane social conditions rather than predisposed to vice. The young girl Songbird has fallen into prostitution, but it is recognised by those around her that she has had little real option and has been abused by those around her since a child – nobody could argue that she is undeserving of her redemption. The Slasher is also commended for his overall good heart despite his violent past, that he too has had little in the way of positive influences in his life to set him in a better direction. Rodolphe’s schemes to save the people he meets are occasionally complicated by others but never thwarted, giving the book a positive feel despite the horror which it depicts in such detail – despite central themes that challenge the overall status quo (and which some have argued set the stage for the 1848 revolution), this is still a novel with a traditional structure and which finishes with everyone back in their appropriate places.
Billed as the first English translation in a century, The Mysteries of Paris is not a light read but it has been a worthwhile one. It feels like the precursor for so much that came after – it inspired a series of novels around the world (The Mysteries of New York, The Mysteries of London …) and indeed it does have a Dickensian flavour about it, but yet without Dickens’ tendency to sanitise the working classes. While many of Sue’s characters do tend towards the caricature and the womenfolk slot stubbornly into either Virgin or Whore with no overlap (even the Songbird somehow remains snowy-white), there is still a sense of these characters as people, as citizens and a keener sense of fraternal fellowship than the more paternalistic Dickens was ever able to muster. Yet despite the over-riding moral theme, this is also an adventure story, with the author being a follower of John Fennimore Cooper – certainly the sidestreets of Sue’s Paris are just as wild as the West of Cooper’s frontier fiction. Like so much of serialised fiction, there are repeated twists, turns, cliffhangers and shocking revelations – enough to keep the reader coming back for all ninety episodes – in short, like a Victorian television boxed-set. Too long over-shadowed, The Mysteries of Paris is well worth picking up – the length may be intimidating but don’t be fooled – this is novel crafted by a master story-teller.
Weighing in at nearly one and a half thousand pages, The Mysteries of Paris is an intimidating book by anyone’s standards. Serialised over a sixteen month period in the 1840s, it was a sensation in its day, inspiring Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Having never heard of it before, I was surprised at how familiar it felt; the dark and frightening underbelly of Paris is not so very different from Dickens’ account of Victorian London, the waifs and strays remind me also of Guy de Maupassant’s short stories (yes, half of my degree was in French literature) but there is also more than a few characters who recall the main players of Hugo’s masterpiece. However, there were also moments of extraordinary darkness, moments which reveal a society which still remembers all too well the days of revolutionary lawlessness, where the characters know that they can rely on nobody for aid – The Mysteries of Paris is almost Shakespearean in the peaks and troughs which it deals out to the protagonists.
The central protagonist is the enigmatic Rodolphe, an apparent Parisian worker who is really a German duke in disguise. He goes about settling the affairs of the lesser men, rescuing those who he feels can be redeemed and punishing those who he judges beyond penitence. At the time, many Parisian citizens believed that these ‘courts of morality’ were a good idea, so in some ways The Mysteries of Paris presents what was to many an ideal, even when at times Rodolphe’s methods appear medieval. He is aided in his mission by English nobleman Sir Walter Murph and a young ex-slave doctor known as David, all of whom are individuals truly pure of heart and conscience but overshadowed by the dark memories of old betrayals, the true natures of which only become clear as the novel goes on.
As a historical piece, this is a truly fascinating novel – long before Les Miserables, Sue reveals the working classes as people, and as victims of their inhumane social conditions rather than predisposed to vice. The young girl Songbird has fallen into prostitution, but it is recognised by those around her that she has had little real option and has been abused by those around her since a child – nobody could argue that she is undeserving of her redemption. The Slasher is also commended for his overall good heart despite his violent past, that he too has had little in the way of positive influences in his life to set him in a better direction. Rodolphe’s schemes to save the people he meets are occasionally complicated by others but never thwarted, giving the book a positive feel despite the horror which it depicts in such detail – despite central themes that challenge the overall status quo (and which some have argued set the stage for the 1848 revolution), this is still a novel with a traditional structure and which finishes with everyone back in their appropriate places.
Billed as the first English translation in a century, The Mysteries of Paris is not a light read but it has been a worthwhile one. It feels like the precursor for so much that came after – it inspired a series of novels around the world (The Mysteries of New York, The Mysteries of London …) and indeed it does have a Dickensian flavour about it, but yet without Dickens’ tendency to sanitise the working classes. While many of Sue’s characters do tend towards the caricature and the womenfolk slot stubbornly into either Virgin or Whore with no overlap (even the Songbird somehow remains snowy-white), there is still a sense of these characters as people, as citizens and a keener sense of fraternal fellowship than the more paternalistic Dickens was ever able to muster. Yet despite the over-riding moral theme, this is also an adventure story, with the author being a follower of John Fennimore Cooper – certainly the sidestreets of Sue’s Paris are just as wild as the West of Cooper’s frontier fiction. Like so much of serialised fiction, there are repeated twists, turns, cliffhangers and shocking revelations – enough to keep the reader coming back for all ninety episodes – in short, like a Victorian television boxed-set. Too long over-shadowed, The Mysteries of Paris is well worth picking up – the length may be intimidating but don’t be fooled – this is novel crafted by a master story-teller.
Want to read
May 8, 2016The original French text is available at La Bibliothèque électronique du Québec Volume I.
The original French text is available at La Bibliothèque électronique du Québec Volume II.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 1 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 2 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 3 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 4 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 5 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 6 of 6.
The original French text is available at La Bibliothèque électronique du Québec Volume II.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 1 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 2 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 3 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 4 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 5 of 6.
Free download available at Project Gutenberg, Volume 6 of 6.
November 11, 2011
Je l'ai lu ily a bien longtemps, mais j'en garde un beau souvenir.
February 22, 2021
signore e signori il padre dei romanzi d'appendice
March 11, 2013
Schlicht schlecht
Ich war jung, ungefähr 14 Jahre alt, als ich in unserer Stadtbibliothek eine illustrierte und vermutlich gekürzte Version des Klassikers von Eugène Sue fand und sie innerhalb von zwei, drei Tagen gierig verschlang. Welch eine fantastische und geheimnisvolle, intrigendurchtränkte und bedrohliche Welt hatte sich mir da aufgetan! Während meines letzten Frankreichaufenthalts kaufte ich deshalb in einem Anflug von Nostalgie die 1367 Seiten starke Ausgabe von „Les Mystères de Paris“ aus dem Bouquins-Verlag, um mich wieder an den Abenteuern Rodolphes und der Pariser Unterwelt sowie den Kreisen des Adels zu erfreuen.
Das war jedoch ein großer Fehlgriff, denn nichts von dem Zauber, den ich während der frühen Jugend empfunden hatte, war geblieben.
Das Buch erschien ursprünglich in mehreren Teilen im Journal des Débats vom Sommer 1842 bis zum Herbst des folgenden Jahres, gehört also in den Bereich des Kolportageromans. Nun ist gegen das Genre als solches eigentlich nichts zu sagen, denn wie die englische Literatur, allen voran der Großmeister Dickens, zeigt, kann literarische Qualität durchaus mit dem Fortsetzungsroman einhergehen.
Bei Sues „Die Geheimnisse von Paris“ ist dies meiner Meinung nach indes nicht der Fall. Die Sorgfalt und Raffinesse, die der Autor auf die Ausgestaltung der Handlung, eines bewundernswerten, labyrinthischen Gespinstes von Intrigen und Verbrechen, verwendet, lässt er bei der Zeichnung seiner Charaktere vermissen. Sie wirken allesamt wie Kreaturen von Karl May, oberflächlich und holzschnittartig, wobei die Vertiefungen eher mit dem Beil als mit dem Schnitzmesser gezogen worden sind. Rodolphe beispielsweise ist ein Proto-Old-Shatterhand, denn er kann einfach alles, er spricht sogar den Pariser Argot so gut, dass die Ganoven ihn nicht als Angehörigen der Oberschicht entlarven (Harun Ar-Raschid lässt bestimmt nett grüßen!). Daneben gibt es noch jede Menge guter und böser Menschen, und selbst Personen wie Le Chourineur, ein Mörder, in dem ein guter Kern steckt und der von Rodolphe geläutert wird, bleiben schablonenhaft gezeichnet.
Ein weiterer Minuspunkt ist der Stil des Buches: Sue hat nichts vom Witz und der Originalität eines Dickens, der Eindringlichkeit eines Zola oder der Tiefe eines Hugo. Er ist einfach nur lang, um nicht zu sagen langweilig, was vor allem von seiner lächerlichen Melodramatik herrührt. Gefühle sind so dick aufgetragen – und dies gleichzeitig in Wasserfarbe – dargestellt, dass man jeden Moment die Befürchtung hat, die Charaktere würden im nächsten Augenblick anfangen zu singen wie in einem Musical. Zu allem Überfluss schien Sue auch noch pro Wort bezahlt worden zu sein, denn deren macht er viele, wo es hätten wenige sein können. Sein deutsches Pendant, Karl May, hält sich in dieser Hinsicht wenigstens zurück.
Man hat dem Buch verschiedentlich auch sozialkritisches Potential bescheinigt, was sicherlich ein großes Verdienst ist, doch gleichzeitig sollte man in diesem Zusammenhang nicht verschweigen, dass sich Sue auch zu einem indirekten Verfechter der Eugenik aufzuschwingen scheint (vgl. den Exkurs über die arme junge Ehefrau, die unwissentlich einen Epileptiker geheiratet hat; Teil III, Kapitel 16 Schluss), die ja im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert noch eine unheilvolle Rolle spielen sollte.
Fazit: In einer gekürzten Version kann das Buch sicherlich den einen oder anderen pubertierenden Jüngling auch heute noch unterhalten, doch im Original ist es sicher nur noch für den Literaturwissenschaftler interessant, zumal es, schon an den Kriterien seiner eigenen Zeit gemessen, keinen großen literarischen Wert besitzt.
Ich war jung, ungefähr 14 Jahre alt, als ich in unserer Stadtbibliothek eine illustrierte und vermutlich gekürzte Version des Klassikers von Eugène Sue fand und sie innerhalb von zwei, drei Tagen gierig verschlang. Welch eine fantastische und geheimnisvolle, intrigendurchtränkte und bedrohliche Welt hatte sich mir da aufgetan! Während meines letzten Frankreichaufenthalts kaufte ich deshalb in einem Anflug von Nostalgie die 1367 Seiten starke Ausgabe von „Les Mystères de Paris“ aus dem Bouquins-Verlag, um mich wieder an den Abenteuern Rodolphes und der Pariser Unterwelt sowie den Kreisen des Adels zu erfreuen.
Das war jedoch ein großer Fehlgriff, denn nichts von dem Zauber, den ich während der frühen Jugend empfunden hatte, war geblieben.
Das Buch erschien ursprünglich in mehreren Teilen im Journal des Débats vom Sommer 1842 bis zum Herbst des folgenden Jahres, gehört also in den Bereich des Kolportageromans. Nun ist gegen das Genre als solches eigentlich nichts zu sagen, denn wie die englische Literatur, allen voran der Großmeister Dickens, zeigt, kann literarische Qualität durchaus mit dem Fortsetzungsroman einhergehen.
Bei Sues „Die Geheimnisse von Paris“ ist dies meiner Meinung nach indes nicht der Fall. Die Sorgfalt und Raffinesse, die der Autor auf die Ausgestaltung der Handlung, eines bewundernswerten, labyrinthischen Gespinstes von Intrigen und Verbrechen, verwendet, lässt er bei der Zeichnung seiner Charaktere vermissen. Sie wirken allesamt wie Kreaturen von Karl May, oberflächlich und holzschnittartig, wobei die Vertiefungen eher mit dem Beil als mit dem Schnitzmesser gezogen worden sind. Rodolphe beispielsweise ist ein Proto-Old-Shatterhand, denn er kann einfach alles, er spricht sogar den Pariser Argot so gut, dass die Ganoven ihn nicht als Angehörigen der Oberschicht entlarven (Harun Ar-Raschid lässt bestimmt nett grüßen!). Daneben gibt es noch jede Menge guter und böser Menschen, und selbst Personen wie Le Chourineur, ein Mörder, in dem ein guter Kern steckt und der von Rodolphe geläutert wird, bleiben schablonenhaft gezeichnet.
Ein weiterer Minuspunkt ist der Stil des Buches: Sue hat nichts vom Witz und der Originalität eines Dickens, der Eindringlichkeit eines Zola oder der Tiefe eines Hugo. Er ist einfach nur lang, um nicht zu sagen langweilig, was vor allem von seiner lächerlichen Melodramatik herrührt. Gefühle sind so dick aufgetragen – und dies gleichzeitig in Wasserfarbe – dargestellt, dass man jeden Moment die Befürchtung hat, die Charaktere würden im nächsten Augenblick anfangen zu singen wie in einem Musical. Zu allem Überfluss schien Sue auch noch pro Wort bezahlt worden zu sein, denn deren macht er viele, wo es hätten wenige sein können. Sein deutsches Pendant, Karl May, hält sich in dieser Hinsicht wenigstens zurück.
Man hat dem Buch verschiedentlich auch sozialkritisches Potential bescheinigt, was sicherlich ein großes Verdienst ist, doch gleichzeitig sollte man in diesem Zusammenhang nicht verschweigen, dass sich Sue auch zu einem indirekten Verfechter der Eugenik aufzuschwingen scheint (vgl. den Exkurs über die arme junge Ehefrau, die unwissentlich einen Epileptiker geheiratet hat; Teil III, Kapitel 16 Schluss), die ja im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert noch eine unheilvolle Rolle spielen sollte.
Fazit: In einer gekürzten Version kann das Buch sicherlich den einen oder anderen pubertierenden Jüngling auch heute noch unterhalten, doch im Original ist es sicher nur noch für den Literaturwissenschaftler interessant, zumal es, schon an den Kriterien seiner eigenen Zeit gemessen, keinen großen literarischen Wert besitzt.
February 19, 2020
Schnell-Rezi
Der Trendsetter, ohne Geheimnisse kein Graf von Monte Christo, keine Elenden und auch nicht die Münchmeyer-Romane von Karl May. Zudem hat der wackere Menschenfreund Herzog Rudolf auch für Kara Ben Nemsi und Old Shatterhand und ihre diversen Doppelgänger in den Kolportage-Romanen als Rollenmodell gedient, selbst wenn sie nicht jedem Armen ein Vermögen zuwerfen.
Zum Aha-Erlebnis und einigen Momenten, die von den Nachfolgern nicht wirklich erreicht wurden, gesellt sich in der hier gelesenen, gekürzten Version, die Übertragung des Argot in ein unmittelbar packendes Rotwelsch, die Gaunersprache wirkt authentischer als in neueren vollständigen Übersetzungen, von denen ich die von Penguin gegen probiert habe. Die Probleme erörtern die Übersetzer ausführlich bieten aber eine ziemlich fade Übertragung. Die vollständige deutsche Ausgabe, die ich vor zwanzig Jahren gelesen habe, war sprachlich auch zu bieder oder harmlos.
Von daher rate ich jedem, der sich erst einmal ein Bild vom Grundlagenwerk machen will, die 0,49 Cents bei Musaicum zu lassen, zumal auch die etwa auf zwei Drittel eingedampfte Version zuverlässig Stärken und bezeichnenden Schwächen übermittelt, die dazu geführt haben, das etliche Nachfolger Weltliteratur-Status erreicht haben.
Die Vorzüge liegen klar in der Schilderung der Szenen der Unterwelt, aber die werden im Verlauf des Romans immer weniger, ehe das Buch komplett in konventionellem Geschwafel versinkt. Dem Autor geht schlichtweg die Kondition aus, während die Konvention obsiegt und das reizende Personal unter sich begräbt.
Zuletzt zu viel Salongeschwafel bei zunehmend höherem Frömmelei-Pegel ist nur ein Problem, auch wenn Karl May Bekehrung und Reue viel, viel besser gestaltet und motiviert. Wenn auch erst im Hauptwerk. Das Thema Rache und Inkognito, aber auch Kritik an der Selbstgerechtigkeit des Anspruchs gestaltet Dumas im Grafen auf überzeugende Weise.
Im Vergleich mit Karl May und Alexandre Dumas fällt eine weitere markante Leerstelle auf, Humor ist für Eugene Sue kein Thema, Spannung und Rührseligkeit sind eher sein Element, zudem ist vieles schwach motiviert, so dass unter den vielen Seiten vielleicht ein halbes Dutzend brillante Einzelszenen im Gedächtnis bleibt, von daher ist es nicht verwunderlich, dass der Bestseller zum Steinbuch für Kollegen wurde, die ihr Handwerk besser verstanden oder zumindest genauere Vorstellungen davon hatten, welche Wertvorstellungen sie ihren Lesern vermitteln wollten.
Der Trendsetter, ohne Geheimnisse kein Graf von Monte Christo, keine Elenden und auch nicht die Münchmeyer-Romane von Karl May. Zudem hat der wackere Menschenfreund Herzog Rudolf auch für Kara Ben Nemsi und Old Shatterhand und ihre diversen Doppelgänger in den Kolportage-Romanen als Rollenmodell gedient, selbst wenn sie nicht jedem Armen ein Vermögen zuwerfen.
Zum Aha-Erlebnis und einigen Momenten, die von den Nachfolgern nicht wirklich erreicht wurden, gesellt sich in der hier gelesenen, gekürzten Version, die Übertragung des Argot in ein unmittelbar packendes Rotwelsch, die Gaunersprache wirkt authentischer als in neueren vollständigen Übersetzungen, von denen ich die von Penguin gegen probiert habe. Die Probleme erörtern die Übersetzer ausführlich bieten aber eine ziemlich fade Übertragung. Die vollständige deutsche Ausgabe, die ich vor zwanzig Jahren gelesen habe, war sprachlich auch zu bieder oder harmlos.
Von daher rate ich jedem, der sich erst einmal ein Bild vom Grundlagenwerk machen will, die 0,49 Cents bei Musaicum zu lassen, zumal auch die etwa auf zwei Drittel eingedampfte Version zuverlässig Stärken und bezeichnenden Schwächen übermittelt, die dazu geführt haben, das etliche Nachfolger Weltliteratur-Status erreicht haben.
Die Vorzüge liegen klar in der Schilderung der Szenen der Unterwelt, aber die werden im Verlauf des Romans immer weniger, ehe das Buch komplett in konventionellem Geschwafel versinkt. Dem Autor geht schlichtweg die Kondition aus, während die Konvention obsiegt und das reizende Personal unter sich begräbt.
Zuletzt zu viel Salongeschwafel bei zunehmend höherem Frömmelei-Pegel ist nur ein Problem, auch wenn Karl May Bekehrung und Reue viel, viel besser gestaltet und motiviert. Wenn auch erst im Hauptwerk. Das Thema Rache und Inkognito, aber auch Kritik an der Selbstgerechtigkeit des Anspruchs gestaltet Dumas im Grafen auf überzeugende Weise.
Im Vergleich mit Karl May und Alexandre Dumas fällt eine weitere markante Leerstelle auf, Humor ist für Eugene Sue kein Thema, Spannung und Rührseligkeit sind eher sein Element, zudem ist vieles schwach motiviert, so dass unter den vielen Seiten vielleicht ein halbes Dutzend brillante Einzelszenen im Gedächtnis bleibt, von daher ist es nicht verwunderlich, dass der Bestseller zum Steinbuch für Kollegen wurde, die ihr Handwerk besser verstanden oder zumindest genauere Vorstellungen davon hatten, welche Wertvorstellungen sie ihren Lesern vermitteln wollten.
February 14, 2018
It is a cobblestone. Very, very much a product of its time. If you thought the ending of "Camille" was awful don't even start. If you found Dickens boring, you certainly don't have the stamina for this. But if you're prepared to wallow for weeks in a sentimental morass of misguided but well-intentioned social commentary hung on the bones of a gothic revenge piece, then boy howdy is this the book for you!
November 6, 2012
Hugely popular and influential in its day (the 1840s), Eugene Sue's "The Mysteries Of Paris" is a whopper of a colorful, picaresque novel in the old tradition. I'd been intrigued by mentions of this title repeatedly cropping up in my other subversive/avant-garde leaning readings, as having been a key influence, and I thought I'd even read that Lautreamont had taken his nom-de-plume from a character in the book. (On that score it seems I was mistaken). I therefore was surprised by just how conventional the book is, though populated by colorful, criminal characters and full of cliff-hanger moments. Sue kept me interested for all 1300 plus pages, and I expect his stories of fallen women and hideous, bloodthirsty thugs (of whom a couple are also female) were even more titillating to a Victorian reader. The protagonist is a German Archduke living incognito in the Paris slums; known simply as M. Rudolph, he makes it his business to reward the good and deserving in desperate need, to reform the criminals he can, and cruelly punish those he can't. He does this to expiate a sin which torments his conscience, the nature of which is hinted at but not fully explained until well into the novel. Despite countless setbacks and several cunning enemies, he always succeeds in these aims, lending the book an air of moral certainty that seems quaint, and very Victorian. A modern reader may also recoil from M. Rudolf's idea of justice, which is rather severe. There's a good degree of pious sanctimony and sentimentality here, and several author's digressions on the death penalty vs. solitary confinement for life (which Sue fervently supports as an opportunity for reflection and repentance, as well as a deterrant more effective than certain death!) This righteous tone is modified somewhat by a surprising, tragic ending which leaves our golden-boy Archduke in the depths of despair, even after all the good he's done.
January 13, 2022
Eugène Sue deve la sua immensa popolarità alla serie di sensazionali romanzi della vita bassa parigina iniziata nel 1842 proprio con questo titolo.
Apparso come un romanzo seriale, stile feuilleton , nel quotidiano conservatore Le Journal des débats, "I misteri di Parigi" ha fornito lo specchio di una Parigi operaia e criminale con i suoi ritratti di prostitute, criminali e cattivi di ogni genere.
Sono stata combattuta sul giudizio: una lettura importante dal punto di vista delle pagine ma lo è stata, per me, altrettanto dal punto di vista stilistico e culturale?
Forse ho fatto l'errore più grande di tutti quando mi sono accorta, leggendolo, che lo stavo paragonando a Hugo, ad un'immensità e ad un senso di meraviglia ineguagliabile. Chissà che io non mediti meglio la mia scelta più avanti, a freddo, ed aumenti il giudizio di una stellina..
Apparso come un romanzo seriale, stile feuilleton , nel quotidiano conservatore Le Journal des débats, "I misteri di Parigi" ha fornito lo specchio di una Parigi operaia e criminale con i suoi ritratti di prostitute, criminali e cattivi di ogni genere.
Sono stata combattuta sul giudizio: una lettura importante dal punto di vista delle pagine ma lo è stata, per me, altrettanto dal punto di vista stilistico e culturale?
Forse ho fatto l'errore più grande di tutti quando mi sono accorta, leggendolo, che lo stavo paragonando a Hugo, ad un'immensità e ad un senso di meraviglia ineguagliabile. Chissà che io non mediti meglio la mia scelta più avanti, a freddo, ed aumenti il giudizio di una stellina..
February 3, 2017
The New Mysteries
Mirable dictu, a new translation of Eugène Sue’s Mystères de Paris has been published after 171 years (Penguin Classics, 2015 $20 paper, $2.99 Kindle — though at 1360 pages maybe you wouldn’t want an e-book…) The translators are Carolyn Betensky and Jonathan Loesberg, and they have made a creditable job of it. In their introduction they spend some time in handwringing over the difficulties of translating the criminal slang thiat Sue made use of in the first part of the book, but the translators have made good choices.
The original English translations of the book were made over just three years. It is difficult to believe, considering the book’s unprecedented popularity, that it fell so rapidly and thoroughly out of English-speaking readers’ consciousness lets us know that the late 20th century practice of the blockbuster is not as new as we think it is. There was something like a media frenzy – first serialized in 150 issues, over sixteen months, in the French newspaper Journal des débats, it was read by everyone from aristocrats to serving girls. Agents of English and American publishers bought issues hot from the press, shipped them off by fast packet boat to be translated overnight and published the following morning. Sue and Dumas, the first novelists to work in this new serial medium, made fortunes. (Dickens was publishing serially from 1836, seven years earlier, but his work appeared in monthly installments as separate pamphlets.)
Sue’s intricate melodrama unfolds around a Paris where, despite the gulf between them, the fortunes of the rich and poor are inextricably tangled. The story of Rodolphe, a magnetic hero of noble heart, embodied the social and political aspirations of 1843 and the heritage of the 1814 constitutional government, culminating in the short-lived revolution of 1848, a government in which Sue held a parliamentary seat.
In France the book has been continuously in print. A biography of Sue by Jean-Louis Bory appeared in 1962. It is doubtful whether anyone but the French has heard of either Eugène Sue or Les Mystères de Paris.
It is true that this book is a sentimental melodrama, and is fully in the spirit of 1843 in many respects. Modern readers will likely find some of its effusion difficult, especially the remarks on women, its belief in the physiognomy of evil, on virtue, and other matters. But lest anyone doubt Sue’s views let her read the perorations on justice p655-659 and on utopia p690-691. Similar passages are scattered throughout the book.
A new translation now may be thought something of an oddity. However, the lurid pulp cover suggests that it is not. It certainly is not the decorous presentation of the typical rediscovery of a neglected book. Les Mystères is a romp. Sue had a talent for keeping multiple story lines in the air at once, a talent which stood him well for the creation of a newspaper serial that the reader encounters only one small bit at a time. The whole enterprise can’t be foreseen in detail by its author, who must therefore seed each installment with multiple opportunities for continuation while at the same time introduce no confusion or misdirection for the reader. The success of Les Mystères inspired many imitations. A comparison with Reynolds’ The Mysteries of London will reveal within a few pages Sue’s deftness in handling a narrative of this sort.
Sue learned his trade through a series of pot-boilers over twenty years modeled on the novels of James Fenimore Cooper. These are not unreadable books, but they are trivial. Then in 1839, with the novel Arthur, he began to develop a social awareness of a different order, a conscience and sense of duty, a sympathy for the poor and oppressed. After 1852, with the failure of the revolution and Sue’s banishment to the provinces, he fell back on the pulp novels of his early career. In between were ten years of good stories, though none so exhilarating as Les Mystères — Arthur, Matilde (1841), Paula Monti (1942), The Wandering Jew (1844), Martin the Foundling, or the memoirs of a valet d’un valet de chamber (1846). The 1844 followup to Les Mystères does test his social consciousness a bit, but considering the pervasive anti-Semitism always present, Sue’s effort is not bad.
Les Mystères is as good as anything by Dumas. It deserves your attention.
Still, it’s full of 19th century authorial commentary and pulp sentimentality. This stuff is not entirely dispensable, however. For example, halfway through the novel, buried in a sermon on the goodness of a certain lady, is one of Sue’s very few remarks on his own craft. “They would awaken in her,” he writes, “sufficient novelistic curiosity and indulgence in mystery unconnected with love to satisfy her imaginative needs, her soul, and in this manner they would keep her safe from any new love affair.”
This opens a question which might puzzle a modern reader: what are these mysteries which Paris has over a thousand pages of. It is as with the medieval mystery play. It is something imaginary, because limited humans cannot better understand what is real, which we receive in the form of a story concocted by one who is better able to imagine the imaginary, and which serves to protect us from lesser forms of vulgar sentiment. Regardless of what might think of this formulation, and to our minds the hypocrisy of filling the book with the very vulgar sentiment which we are to repudiate, the reader must admit that these are high aspirations to learn something more of the bits of goodness in everyone and the whodunit of faith.
Mirable dictu, a new translation of Eugène Sue’s Mystères de Paris has been published after 171 years (Penguin Classics, 2015 $20 paper, $2.99 Kindle — though at 1360 pages maybe you wouldn’t want an e-book…) The translators are Carolyn Betensky and Jonathan Loesberg, and they have made a creditable job of it. In their introduction they spend some time in handwringing over the difficulties of translating the criminal slang thiat Sue made use of in the first part of the book, but the translators have made good choices.
The original English translations of the book were made over just three years. It is difficult to believe, considering the book’s unprecedented popularity, that it fell so rapidly and thoroughly out of English-speaking readers’ consciousness lets us know that the late 20th century practice of the blockbuster is not as new as we think it is. There was something like a media frenzy – first serialized in 150 issues, over sixteen months, in the French newspaper Journal des débats, it was read by everyone from aristocrats to serving girls. Agents of English and American publishers bought issues hot from the press, shipped them off by fast packet boat to be translated overnight and published the following morning. Sue and Dumas, the first novelists to work in this new serial medium, made fortunes. (Dickens was publishing serially from 1836, seven years earlier, but his work appeared in monthly installments as separate pamphlets.)
Sue’s intricate melodrama unfolds around a Paris where, despite the gulf between them, the fortunes of the rich and poor are inextricably tangled. The story of Rodolphe, a magnetic hero of noble heart, embodied the social and political aspirations of 1843 and the heritage of the 1814 constitutional government, culminating in the short-lived revolution of 1848, a government in which Sue held a parliamentary seat.
In France the book has been continuously in print. A biography of Sue by Jean-Louis Bory appeared in 1962. It is doubtful whether anyone but the French has heard of either Eugène Sue or Les Mystères de Paris.
It is true that this book is a sentimental melodrama, and is fully in the spirit of 1843 in many respects. Modern readers will likely find some of its effusion difficult, especially the remarks on women, its belief in the physiognomy of evil, on virtue, and other matters. But lest anyone doubt Sue’s views let her read the perorations on justice p655-659 and on utopia p690-691. Similar passages are scattered throughout the book.
A new translation now may be thought something of an oddity. However, the lurid pulp cover suggests that it is not. It certainly is not the decorous presentation of the typical rediscovery of a neglected book. Les Mystères is a romp. Sue had a talent for keeping multiple story lines in the air at once, a talent which stood him well for the creation of a newspaper serial that the reader encounters only one small bit at a time. The whole enterprise can’t be foreseen in detail by its author, who must therefore seed each installment with multiple opportunities for continuation while at the same time introduce no confusion or misdirection for the reader. The success of Les Mystères inspired many imitations. A comparison with Reynolds’ The Mysteries of London will reveal within a few pages Sue’s deftness in handling a narrative of this sort.
Sue learned his trade through a series of pot-boilers over twenty years modeled on the novels of James Fenimore Cooper. These are not unreadable books, but they are trivial. Then in 1839, with the novel Arthur, he began to develop a social awareness of a different order, a conscience and sense of duty, a sympathy for the poor and oppressed. After 1852, with the failure of the revolution and Sue’s banishment to the provinces, he fell back on the pulp novels of his early career. In between were ten years of good stories, though none so exhilarating as Les Mystères — Arthur, Matilde (1841), Paula Monti (1942), The Wandering Jew (1844), Martin the Foundling, or the memoirs of a valet d’un valet de chamber (1846). The 1844 followup to Les Mystères does test his social consciousness a bit, but considering the pervasive anti-Semitism always present, Sue’s effort is not bad.
Les Mystères is as good as anything by Dumas. It deserves your attention.
Still, it’s full of 19th century authorial commentary and pulp sentimentality. This stuff is not entirely dispensable, however. For example, halfway through the novel, buried in a sermon on the goodness of a certain lady, is one of Sue’s very few remarks on his own craft. “They would awaken in her,” he writes, “sufficient novelistic curiosity and indulgence in mystery unconnected with love to satisfy her imaginative needs, her soul, and in this manner they would keep her safe from any new love affair.”
This opens a question which might puzzle a modern reader: what are these mysteries which Paris has over a thousand pages of. It is as with the medieval mystery play. It is something imaginary, because limited humans cannot better understand what is real, which we receive in the form of a story concocted by one who is better able to imagine the imaginary, and which serves to protect us from lesser forms of vulgar sentiment. Regardless of what might think of this formulation, and to our minds the hypocrisy of filling the book with the very vulgar sentiment which we are to repudiate, the reader must admit that these are high aspirations to learn something more of the bits of goodness in everyone and the whodunit of faith.
January 24, 2017
8 NOV 2016 - reading with The Literature of the 19th Century Group at Yahoo. All are welcome - https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/1....
13 NOV 2016 - End of Book I. What a great, fun read! Peopled with likably nefarious characters (isn't that a funny oxymoron?!) each with his/her secrets. Oh, how I am going to enjoy this book.
21 NOV 2016 - End of Book II.
27 NOV 2016 - Book III, Chap. 6. Today is the First Sunday of Advent - Hope.
2 DEC 2016 - End of Book III.
4 DEC 2016 - Second Sunday of Advent - Peace.
24 JAN 2017 - Brilliant! Peopled with true-to-life characters (not every bad person is truly all bad and not all good people are truly good). I initially referred to the characters as likably nefarious and this still holds true - everyone has a secret and some characters know those secrets and other characters only guess. Please give this fantastic tale a chance - chapters end on cliffhangers and you find yourself saying "just one more chapter." It is not true - you will read well beyond your bedtime. In a year or two, I will definitely give The Mysteries of Paris a re-read.
13 NOV 2016 - End of Book I. What a great, fun read! Peopled with likably nefarious characters (isn't that a funny oxymoron?!) each with his/her secrets. Oh, how I am going to enjoy this book.
21 NOV 2016 - End of Book II.
27 NOV 2016 - Book III, Chap. 6. Today is the First Sunday of Advent - Hope.
2 DEC 2016 - End of Book III.
4 DEC 2016 - Second Sunday of Advent - Peace.
24 JAN 2017 - Brilliant! Peopled with true-to-life characters (not every bad person is truly all bad and not all good people are truly good). I initially referred to the characters as likably nefarious and this still holds true - everyone has a secret and some characters know those secrets and other characters only guess. Please give this fantastic tale a chance - chapters end on cliffhangers and you find yourself saying "just one more chapter." It is not true - you will read well beyond your bedtime. In a year or two, I will definitely give The Mysteries of Paris a re-read.
November 14, 2017
At 1,363 pages probably the longest book I'll read this year. Originally serialised in France in 1842 this book has everything - romance, murder, kidnapping, humour, embezzlement, backstabbing (sometimes literally), social commentary and probably a few other things that I have forgotten to mention. The bad are very very bad and the good, well just a wee bit too goody-goody sometimes- I did want to smack Songbird by the end. My favourite characters were probably the indomitable Slasher and the most excellent and comic Pipelets. Well worth a read.
Read
December 22, 2012One of my favourite! A nice blending of adventure, love, mistery, drama...just lovely! :)
September 1, 2023
wow. 1,359 pages of genius. let's see if i can try to wrap my head around this.
RTC
RTC
February 12, 2023
This one was both entertaining and strange a various points. Some of the strange points include…
1) Scene in which our hero is about to drown in a dungeon that is rapidly filling with water from a torrential downpour. He stands upon the top most stair. The door of his escape is locked. His lips and nose just a above the water, but he will surely die. And then the door is thrown open and he is pulled up and out. How is that? The stairs lead up to the door. He is standing against the door. There is literally no room left except for a thin sliver of air. And yet the door is opened and he pulled up and out?! Perhaps it’s a bad translation from the original French and it should have been described as a trap door. That would certainly make more sense.
2) The introduction of the “black doctor” or “negro doctor” who for a very long time is only described by the color his skin despite the fact that he is a skilled and talented doctor who saves the lives of both our hero and his best friend. Later the doctor gets a name (David) and a backstory, but his initial introduction is off putting. Again, it was the 1840s, so this behavior probably wasn’t out of alignment with reality at the time, it’s just weird given that the doctor is much more than just the color of his skin to the characters in the book. Perhaps it’s done for the shock value? A black doctor?! Unheard of! 🤷♂️
3) Almost every single character goes by a nickname (the Schoolmaster, Le Chourineur [the slasher], La Goualeuse [sweet throated, {for her beautiful singing, not because she is a prostitution}, the charcoal man, the Ogress, etc.) except for the hero, Rodolphe, who is literally trying to hide the fact that he is Rodolphe, the Grand Duke of Gerolstein (a fictional grand duchy of Germany). How is using your own name supposed to keep your identity secret my friend?
4) One of the longest chapters in the book is our hero talking to the portress at a apartment building he is taking a room in. Basically it is endless gossip about all the other tenants of the building. This lady keeps no secrets! She tells him everything about everyone within minutes of first meeting him.
5) There is an extremely long and detailed description of a “winter garden” (basically, a greenhouse) in the later part of the book. I do believe you could draw up the plans and build this garden (including all the flowers, plants and trees contained therein!) from mountain of information you have been provide in this chapter. But why??? It moves the story forward in no way. It’s like the author got stuck. Had to meet a deadline (this novel was written as a serial in the Journal des débats) and just rambled on about this very beautiful garden to fill up the space until he could figure out what to do next in the series.
And despite all that I still found it amusing. Plus reading Les Miserable at the same time (both books take place in France & Paris at about the same time) was an interesting comparison. It is said that this book also helped to inspire Les Miserable.
1) Scene in which our hero is about to drown in a dungeon that is rapidly filling with water from a torrential downpour. He stands upon the top most stair. The door of his escape is locked. His lips and nose just a above the water, but he will surely die. And then the door is thrown open and he is pulled up and out. How is that? The stairs lead up to the door. He is standing against the door. There is literally no room left except for a thin sliver of air. And yet the door is opened and he pulled up and out?! Perhaps it’s a bad translation from the original French and it should have been described as a trap door. That would certainly make more sense.
2) The introduction of the “black doctor” or “negro doctor” who for a very long time is only described by the color his skin despite the fact that he is a skilled and talented doctor who saves the lives of both our hero and his best friend. Later the doctor gets a name (David) and a backstory, but his initial introduction is off putting. Again, it was the 1840s, so this behavior probably wasn’t out of alignment with reality at the time, it’s just weird given that the doctor is much more than just the color of his skin to the characters in the book. Perhaps it’s done for the shock value? A black doctor?! Unheard of! 🤷♂️
3) Almost every single character goes by a nickname (the Schoolmaster, Le Chourineur [the slasher], La Goualeuse [sweet throated, {for her beautiful singing, not because she is a prostitution}, the charcoal man, the Ogress, etc.) except for the hero, Rodolphe, who is literally trying to hide the fact that he is Rodolphe, the Grand Duke of Gerolstein (a fictional grand duchy of Germany). How is using your own name supposed to keep your identity secret my friend?
4) One of the longest chapters in the book is our hero talking to the portress at a apartment building he is taking a room in. Basically it is endless gossip about all the other tenants of the building. This lady keeps no secrets! She tells him everything about everyone within minutes of first meeting him.
5) There is an extremely long and detailed description of a “winter garden” (basically, a greenhouse) in the later part of the book. I do believe you could draw up the plans and build this garden (including all the flowers, plants and trees contained therein!) from mountain of information you have been provide in this chapter. But why??? It moves the story forward in no way. It’s like the author got stuck. Had to meet a deadline (this novel was written as a serial in the Journal des débats) and just rambled on about this very beautiful garden to fill up the space until he could figure out what to do next in the series.
And despite all that I still found it amusing. Plus reading Les Miserable at the same time (both books take place in France & Paris at about the same time) was an interesting comparison. It is said that this book also helped to inspire Les Miserable.
January 31, 2020
Dopo qualche centinaio di pagine mi sono fermata. I Misteri di Parigi, mi sono accorta, non mi interessa. Nonostante la mole immensa, non è una lettura difficile, al contrario: il suo difetto è la troppa scorrevolezza. Chi ha letto Hugo si sente su un terreno familiare, quello dei lunghi romanzi ottocenteschi dove i personaggi - il principe generoso, la fanciulla perduta, il bandito crudele, il monello dei bassifondi - si incontrano sempre per un caso miracoloso, e sempre i figli ritrovano genitori perduti nella prima infanzia, e viceversa. Ma Hugo è immenso, e Sue no. In Sue non c'è nemmeno l'ombra della saggezza, della profondità di pensiero, dello sguardo limpido e acuto, che Hugo distende fra una pagina e l'altra. In Sue ci sono solo i buoni e i cattivi, e tutto va come ci si aspetta che vada. Anche volendosi accontentare del semplice piacere della lettura, in Sue non si trova niente di paragonabile alle straordinarie trovate narrative di Hugo, ai bambini che dormono negli elefanti, ai malvagi appesi alle guglie di Notre Dame, alle suore prostrate per tutta la notte in misteriosissime cappelle, alle penitenti rinchiusesi a vita in una cella, e di tutte le invenzioni curiose e indimenticabili che costellano i romanzi di Hugo.
La mia impressione è quindi che non sia una lettura importante.
Il mio, però, è il giudizio di chi si è fermato a pagina 376.
La mia impressione è quindi che non sia una lettura importante.
Il mio, però, è il giudizio di chi si è fermato a pagina 376.
February 17, 2013
The first part of this book was excellent. Full of great atmosphere, interesting characters, and a fun plot. It read much like a Dickens novel. But somewhere after the halfway point, this turned into a drawing-room soap opera that was all to often the fashion for writers in the 19th century. It became mostly gossipy characters talking about other characters and it was difficult to tell them apart. And this was only the first part of six parts. I really wanted to like this book and read all six parts, but I'm not sure I'm going to try. Domage.
December 26, 2012
Excellent, énorme au propre comme au figuré, un Dickens à la française : personnages inquiétants, attendrissants, romantiques, et une intrigue à couper le souffle. Même les longs discours sociaux et moralisateurs de l'auteur et la longueur du roman n'empêchent pas d'apprécier l'histoire passionnante et pleine de suspense.
Mon seul regret : il est presque impossible actuellement de trouver une une bonne édition en anglais, alors que l'oeuvre mérite amplement l'intérêt des lecteurs de Dickens.
Mon seul regret : il est presque impossible actuellement de trouver une une bonne édition en anglais, alors que l'oeuvre mérite amplement l'intérêt des lecteurs de Dickens.
September 15, 2019
Questo libro,stupendo per più di mille pagine,si è giocato la quinta stella negli ultimi paragrafi,costellati da melensaggini e leziosità che farebbero impallidire anche Dickens. Per il resto però c'è tutto quello che cerco in un libro:avventura,storie avvincenti,intrighi splendidamente orchestrati,per concludere quindi consiglio la lettura a chi,come me,ama i romanzi ottocenteschi.
April 3, 2020
رواية جيدة، والحبكة الدرامية فيها تبعث الامل ويبدو ان هذا العمل متأثر بالدين ونبذ التفرقة الطائفية بين الطوائف المسيحية.
November 7, 2016
Let me start off by saying this novel is an acquired taste. The majority of the characters are caricatures which are even more exaggerated than Dickens' creations. The plot, although containing a strong social message, is highly melodramatic and relies on improbable events and strange coincidences. If you are not liberal minded you may also object to the authors socialist leanings. If you feel that the poor are lazy and that some people bring misfortune upon themselves then this book might not be for you. However Sue's ideas are nowhere near that modern definition of socialist. He believes the poor should be helped by charity from the rich. Some of his ideas such as a savings bank for the unemployed seem laughable now yet he is writing before the creation of the welfare state. Sue was looking at the poverty of his time and trying to come up with solutions.
Now onto the story itself. If you have ever read Les Miserables, you will be astounded by the similarity plot wise between the two novels. The Mysteries of Paris begins with an ex convict known as "The Slasher" aggressively confronting a teenage prostitute known as Songbird. She is saved by Rodolphe, a fan painter with amazing fighting skills. Admitting defeat, The Slasher becomes friends with Rodolphe and promises to protect Songbird, who also goes by the name Fleur de Marie. The pair visit a seedy bar where they tell their stories. Songbird has experienced pain and suffering similar to that of Fantine and Cosette from Les Miserables. The Slasher reveals what his past crimes are and let's just say that he did more than steal a loaf of bread!. Rodolphe keeps his real identity to himself. He is actually Prince Rodolphe of Gerolstein, a German monarch who sees himself as a agent of providence rewarding the good and punishing the wicked. In this sense he is a prototype of Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo. It is also revealed Rodolphe lost a daughter who happens to be the same age as Songbird. Could his daughter still be alive and could it in fact be Fleur de Marie? Read and find out!
For the next 1300 pages we are introduced to the most despicable villains with ghastly features. Once you have finished the novel you won't be able to forget The Owl (a hag with one eye), The Schoolmaster (who cut off his nose to avoid detection), The Skeleton (more than just a nickname), Polidori (a quack doctor and sinister priest), the Scottish Countess Sarah Macgregor and the vile and corrupt lawyer Jacques Ferrand. Among the crimes described in these pages are rape, stabbing, forgery and poisoning. It's not all grim though. Rigolette is one of the best realised female characters in melodramatic fiction, a self sufficient woman who has no time for boyfriends. We also have a romantic relationship which develops from a friendship rather than the usual love at first sight. Comedy is provided by the quirky landlady Anastasie Pipelet and her loyal husband Alfred, who is tormented by a practical joker known as Cabrion. We also have two very strong female protagonists: She-Wolf a convict who is wild at heart and Cecily, a mixed race woman whose looks literally kill. Rodolphe is aided by Sir Walter Murph a Yorkshire man and David ,an African Doctor.
Sue uses the story to state his opinions on various subjects including the living standards of workers, child abuse, domestic abuse, divorce law,help for the unemployed,legal aid for the poor,prostitution,conditions in female prisons,conditions in male prisons,the use of the poor for medical testing,the right to privacy for patients in hospitals,treatment of the mentally ill and the death penalty. Sue also has small chapters called reflections where he discusses the personality of his characters. In one such chapter he suggests that someone who is not burdened with guilt and shame will be more prepared to deal with past abuse than someone who is. Sue is very direct when stating his opinions and does not write as succinctly as Victor Hugo. In this sense the work comes over as rather crude but you can appreciate the intention of the author who is simply trying to make the world a better place. Sue would enter politics after writing this book.
The translation is very well done and is quite modern. If you are used to Victorian writing or Victorian era translations of foreign works then the text may seem rather too simplistic but it does make for a rather easy read. You could pick up one of the older translations if you prefer but I highly recommend you try this first.
Although Sue's novel has been eclipsed by the works of Hugo and Dumas, I believe novels like Les Miserables and The Count of Monte Cristo would not have existed without it. Dumas himself admitted that his publishers wanted another Mysteries of Paris. It is no surprise both The Mysteries of Paris and The Count of Monte Cristo share amongst other things a family named Morel and an antagonist who is an evil stepmother. Likewise Hugo owes a great deal to Sue and actually mentions him in Les Miserables. In one chapter of Mysteries of Paris, Sue even discusses the story of a man who stole a loaf of bread by smashing the window pane of a baker!.
If you have read Les Miserables and/or The Count of Monte Cristo, I think you will enjoy this classic French melodrama. I wish to thank Penguin for publishing it.
Now onto the story itself. If you have ever read Les Miserables, you will be astounded by the similarity plot wise between the two novels. The Mysteries of Paris begins with an ex convict known as "The Slasher" aggressively confronting a teenage prostitute known as Songbird. She is saved by Rodolphe, a fan painter with amazing fighting skills. Admitting defeat, The Slasher becomes friends with Rodolphe and promises to protect Songbird, who also goes by the name Fleur de Marie. The pair visit a seedy bar where they tell their stories. Songbird has experienced pain and suffering similar to that of Fantine and Cosette from Les Miserables. The Slasher reveals what his past crimes are and let's just say that he did more than steal a loaf of bread!. Rodolphe keeps his real identity to himself. He is actually Prince Rodolphe of Gerolstein, a German monarch who sees himself as a agent of providence rewarding the good and punishing the wicked. In this sense he is a prototype of Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo. It is also revealed Rodolphe lost a daughter who happens to be the same age as Songbird. Could his daughter still be alive and could it in fact be Fleur de Marie? Read and find out!
For the next 1300 pages we are introduced to the most despicable villains with ghastly features. Once you have finished the novel you won't be able to forget The Owl (a hag with one eye), The Schoolmaster (who cut off his nose to avoid detection), The Skeleton (more than just a nickname), Polidori (a quack doctor and sinister priest), the Scottish Countess Sarah Macgregor and the vile and corrupt lawyer Jacques Ferrand. Among the crimes described in these pages are rape, stabbing, forgery and poisoning. It's not all grim though. Rigolette is one of the best realised female characters in melodramatic fiction, a self sufficient woman who has no time for boyfriends. We also have a romantic relationship which develops from a friendship rather than the usual love at first sight. Comedy is provided by the quirky landlady Anastasie Pipelet and her loyal husband Alfred, who is tormented by a practical joker known as Cabrion. We also have two very strong female protagonists: She-Wolf a convict who is wild at heart and Cecily, a mixed race woman whose looks literally kill. Rodolphe is aided by Sir Walter Murph a Yorkshire man and David ,an African Doctor.
Sue uses the story to state his opinions on various subjects including the living standards of workers, child abuse, domestic abuse, divorce law,help for the unemployed,legal aid for the poor,prostitution,conditions in female prisons,conditions in male prisons,the use of the poor for medical testing,the right to privacy for patients in hospitals,treatment of the mentally ill and the death penalty. Sue also has small chapters called reflections where he discusses the personality of his characters. In one such chapter he suggests that someone who is not burdened with guilt and shame will be more prepared to deal with past abuse than someone who is. Sue is very direct when stating his opinions and does not write as succinctly as Victor Hugo. In this sense the work comes over as rather crude but you can appreciate the intention of the author who is simply trying to make the world a better place. Sue would enter politics after writing this book.
The translation is very well done and is quite modern. If you are used to Victorian writing or Victorian era translations of foreign works then the text may seem rather too simplistic but it does make for a rather easy read. You could pick up one of the older translations if you prefer but I highly recommend you try this first.
Although Sue's novel has been eclipsed by the works of Hugo and Dumas, I believe novels like Les Miserables and The Count of Monte Cristo would not have existed without it. Dumas himself admitted that his publishers wanted another Mysteries of Paris. It is no surprise both The Mysteries of Paris and The Count of Monte Cristo share amongst other things a family named Morel and an antagonist who is an evil stepmother. Likewise Hugo owes a great deal to Sue and actually mentions him in Les Miserables. In one chapter of Mysteries of Paris, Sue even discusses the story of a man who stole a loaf of bread by smashing the window pane of a baker!.
If you have read Les Miserables and/or The Count of Monte Cristo, I think you will enjoy this classic French melodrama. I wish to thank Penguin for publishing it.
September 5, 2022
Finally finished this behemoth 1363 pages of amazement. Written in the mid 1800s as weekly newspaper serial that soon captivated Europe and then the world. This story is the ancestor of many modern dramas including Batman, Shawshank Redemption, and the list goes on and on. So grateful @penguinclassics chose to republish this work #mysteresdeparis
April 7, 2018
Featuring orphans, thieves, murderers, prostitutes, and a prince in disguise in a narratives that is at times melodramatic, sentimental, and moralizing, this 19thc novel is a massive (literally) achievement.
February 16, 2017
I thoroughly enjoyed this epic 19th century French novel, a very thoughtful gift from my sister-in-law. The novel was serialized over 16 months and 150 installments, and the recent English translation was superb.
It begins on the Ile de Cite, which in its day was portrayed as a sinister area filled with thieves and murderers. A mysterious man named Rodolphe rescues a young prostitute, Songbird, from a criminal called Slasher, who is assaulting her. Rodolphe is so adept at fighting that Slasher is impressed with his skills, and all three of them end up having a drink in the tavern afterwards, sharing each other's life stories. This scene is observed by others, and the mysteries begin to unfold from there.
I learned much about history, art, social problems, architecture through Sue's many references. I jotted down the names of artists and later looked for their works in museums and came to deeper understandings of how great art influences others. For example, Salvator Rosa was a 17th c Italian painter whose landscapes were admired by JMW Turner. I've been to Paris many times, and it was great fun to see it through the historical and social lens of Sue's imaginings. Through the travails of its characters, I learned about working conditions, prison systems, mental hospitals, laws that discriminated heavily against women, upon all of which Sue provides commentary.
A favorite chapter lusciously described the conservatory of a rich duchess, with such vivid imagery and botanical awareness it awakened all of my senses.
My only criticism is I thought it could use some editing, as the story lines seemed to repeat with different characters, and at times the dialogue seemed overly repetitious. However, given the context of this being a very popular serialized work, I likened it to a great costume drama miniseries, where you just don't want it to end.
It begins on the Ile de Cite, which in its day was portrayed as a sinister area filled with thieves and murderers. A mysterious man named Rodolphe rescues a young prostitute, Songbird, from a criminal called Slasher, who is assaulting her. Rodolphe is so adept at fighting that Slasher is impressed with his skills, and all three of them end up having a drink in the tavern afterwards, sharing each other's life stories. This scene is observed by others, and the mysteries begin to unfold from there.
I learned much about history, art, social problems, architecture through Sue's many references. I jotted down the names of artists and later looked for their works in museums and came to deeper understandings of how great art influences others. For example, Salvator Rosa was a 17th c Italian painter whose landscapes were admired by JMW Turner. I've been to Paris many times, and it was great fun to see it through the historical and social lens of Sue's imaginings. Through the travails of its characters, I learned about working conditions, prison systems, mental hospitals, laws that discriminated heavily against women, upon all of which Sue provides commentary.
A favorite chapter lusciously described the conservatory of a rich duchess, with such vivid imagery and botanical awareness it awakened all of my senses.
My only criticism is I thought it could use some editing, as the story lines seemed to repeat with different characters, and at times the dialogue seemed overly repetitious. However, given the context of this being a very popular serialized work, I likened it to a great costume drama miniseries, where you just don't want it to end.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews