Chourmo (Jean-Claude Izzo, 1996)

Let's simply call Chourmo Total Chaos part 2, as it just carries on from where the first one of the Marseilles trilogy has ended. Okay, it's been a year later, and Fabio is no longer a cop, but everything else has pretty much remained the same. Including, unfortunately, crazy storytelling and incomprehensible plotting. And this time around, it just wasn't much fun to read.

Two stories: Fabio's cousin's teenage kid gets killed, and as soon as our ex-cop starts his investigation, his old friend Serge is gunned down right in front of his eyes. Pretty soon, the mafia gets involved, and this time, also some Arab militants. I'm still not sure how these two sub-plots are related, but the revelation of the first case is so ridiculous that it gives words "coincidence" and "twist" whole new meanings.

But anyways, Fabio is (a) so full of hatred that he doesn't go to the police because he wants to kill monsters responsible himself and (b) so full of other strong emotions that he feels the need to explain his view of life, philosophy, leftist politics, arts, etc. Again and again. Together, of course, with the complete history of Marseilles, countless food recipes and wine recommendations. And again and again. Plus, a recapitulation of his lost friendships and love affairs.

It's fucking relentless, this shit never stops. All this mess and lack of direction is quite illustrative in the final "action" scene where Fabio deals with the two assholes who had killed the poor little kid. Instead of (for example) shooting them from some kind of ambush, he lures them into a car chase. Huh? They are hard-core mafia hit men, but still, "My whole plan depended on their making a mistake. A mistake I hoped would be fatal." So now they are driving in the middle of the night like crazy on the narrow hill roads, and those two assholes are shooting at our hero, and guess with what kind of shit he occupies his thoughts? Well, it's food, of course! Obviously, the first thing that comes to mind when being chased by the mafia killers is poutargue or spaghetti matriciana with red Tempier from Bandol. Or bean soup together with toast, drizzled with olive oil. Or maybe stew with marinated meat... And if all this crap wasn't bad enough, let me just finish this by pointing out that he listens to ZZ Top during this ordeal (The only rock band I liked. I needed them.) ZZ fucking Top!?!? Fabio, a couple of hints: in 1996, Sepultura's Roots and Pantera's Great Southern Trendkill came out!

I understand, of course, that it is character-driven, with Marseilles once again being a character of its own, but it just didn't work for me. Maybe because, after reading the first book, it wasn't so fresh and exciting anymore or maybe because our leading man was still pretty dull and a bit of a sissy (btw closing lines are: "That's when I started to cry. God, it felt good.") But mostly I resented total neglect of any creditable storytelling. There are so many distractions that it seems everything else was more important to the author than to maintain the story at least remotely plausible. Still good in its way and (and for the most part) engaging writing, but Mr. Izzo had chosen the wrong genre for this one. Some heavy shit existential drama would be more appropriate...

2.5/5

Facts:

Hero:
Fabio Montale, ex-cop

Location:
Marseilles

Body count: 

8

Dames:
His cousin Claudia Cardinale look-alike Gelou (Mature woman, in full blown. The way I like them.) and beautiful and a bit mysterious Vietnamese femme fatale Cuc.

Blackouts: 
After the car chase, he's so exhausted that he passes out. Although not before having a chat with the cops and smoking two cigarettes.

Title: 
Chourmo, a Provencal word derived from chiourme, the rowers in a galley....The fan club of Massilia Sound System, the craziest bunch of kids around, had taken over the expression... not so much a fan club as a friendship club... 

Cover:
Picture of a bay in Marseilles? Credited to Emanuele Ragnisco.

Cool lines:  
He was sweating profusely. He stank of death. Shit and death. The two things his life had consisted of. [The Coolest!]

Total Khéops aka Total Chaos (Jean-Claude Izzo, 1995)

Bad stuff just keeps happening to the police inspector Fabio Montale: his old friend Ugo was killed after avenging the death of their mutual friend Manu, Fabio's platonic love Leila was brutally raped and killed, and his not-so-platonic love Marie-Lou was beaten savagely by her asshole pimp. During the routine day, our hero also needs to deal with a punk dealer who beat his girlfriend's gay brother. Plus other shit, lots of other shit.

Strangely enough, with his hands full of work, Fabio doesn't really seem to be too eager to get his shit together and to start some proper investigation. He leaves that to his investigating journalist friend and lover, Babette(!), and even to one of the mafia's retired big bosses(!?!). He himself spends most of the time whining about his mid-life crisis, giving us guided tours of Marseilles, sharing some pretty lame philosophy ('ala That's what love is, the possibility of losing) and more than just a few cooking recipes.

Eventually, all the above events turn out to be related. Even more, they trigger the gangster war between the Marseilles mafia and the Camorra from Naples. Total chaos? Definitely! At the end of this thing, even our main protagonist himself is so confused that he freely admits that "I couldn't really make heads or tails of it all."

I didn't get some of it, too, to be honest, but still liked it a lot. Especially the first half is a total page-turner. Although it is bleak and at times a bit depressing, it's full of life and genuine emotions. Melancholy, nostalgia, sadness, broken relationships, and lost friendships - these elements give the novel a unique and personal tone, which is why I didn't mind that the story itself was neglected and not very coherent. At first, I didn't mind it, but as it went on, the repetitive digressions (women, food, art, history, politics, etc.) became quite annoying and even irritating. I'm not saying that it's bad writing because it's actually brilliant. Sub-plots are fluent and develop nicely, but the pace is too slow. At least it was to my liking.

Also, I didn't like Fabio's character very much. 20+ years of service and the hard life in the army and on the streets should have made him tougher (he actually cries at least a couple of times for fuck's sake!) and especially more cynical. There's practically zero humour in this one, and most dialogues are unbelievably corny, even Seagal would be embarrassed by some of the one-liners. Check this one for an example:

"What's the connection?"
"That's what I'm wondering."
"Do you believe in coincidence?"
"I don't believe in anything."

Huh?

But on the other hand, strictly speaking, Fabio is not exactly our main protagonist here. This honour rather goes to the city of Marseille. The author is obsessed with this melting pot of cultures and writes about its (mostly) miserable inhabitants with lots of respect and affection. Which is great, but what bothered me was this relentless naming of every single fucking street where our hero happens to be. It must be really cool reading this if you know the city, but for me, it was just one more distraction.

But despite everything, it's original stuff. Passionate. And I bought the second one of the trilogy even before finishing this one.

4/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Fabio Montale, a cop

Location:
Marseilles. Where cops are playing cowboys. Shoot to kill: that was their basic rule. They followed the General Custer principle that only good Indian was a dead Indian. And in Marseilles, everyone - or almost everyone - was an Indian.

Body count: 
8 proper corpses + 8 "soldiers" in the gangster war + Fabio's cop partner who dies in the unrelated case (when chasing a Mercedes full of gypsies).

Dames:
What cards did I have left? Four queens. Babette: friendship found. Leila: a missed opportunity. Marie-Lou: a promise given. Lole: lost but still awaited. Clubs, spades, diamonds, hearts.

Of four of them, I liked Marie-Lou the most I think. "Young West Indian hooker.... A real looker. Like Diana Ross at the age of twenty-two."

Blackouts: 
Yes, two of them. Both pretty unoriginal: first time he gets beaten to the pulp by the bad guys warning him to stay off the case, and second time he faints out of exhaustion after punching a cop. None of them is described particularly vividly, simply "then everything went black" and "after that, it seems, I fainted".
 

Title: 
Refers to either the city of Marseilles or to the inconsistent plot. Also, a song with this title by some hip hop band was mentioned, but all I can remember is that their name was an acronym. Any ideas?

Cover:
Nice retouched picture of (yes, you've guessed it!) Marseille with appropriate choice of the background colour (see body count section above), Credited to Emanuele Ragnisco.

Cool lines: 
He started to beg. I'd lost all sympathy for him. He disgusted me. I couldn't even stand the thought of slapping him.