First issued in 1954 under the publisher’s choice of title Enchantements sur Paris (Paris Spellbound)‚ reissued in accordance the author’s wishes as Rue des Maléfices (Witchcraft Street)‚ Jacques Yonnet’s only published book fits into no single category. Personal diary‚ memoir of some of the darkest hours in a nation’s history‚ guide to a city’s lower depths‚ ethnographical study of an urban population that no longer exists or has been driven elsewhere‚ record of a number of paranormal incidents and experiences – Paris Noir is all of these.
Jacques Yonnet is twenty-four years old when war breaks out in 1939. Captured by the Germans in June 1940‚ as France’s eastern defences crumble before the invasion‚ Yonnet escapes and returns to his native city‚ but not to where he is known‚ at home among old friends and family (of socialist inclinations). A hunted man‚ sought by the Nazis and by the collaborationist French police‚ he goes underground in the heart of Paris‚ in the ‘villages’ of the 5th arrondissement on the Left Bank – Maubert‚ Montagne‚ Mouffetard‚ Gobelins. Here he finds refuge‚ as though in another world‚ another dimension.
It is a world that would have been familiar to the great French poet of the 15th century‚ François Villon‚ a world peopled by beggars and rag-pickers‚ mercenary soldiers‚ petty criminals‚ police informers‚ penniless artists‚ whores‚ healers‚ drunks‚ exiles‚ exorcists‚ gypsies‚ wayward wives and defrocked priests. And the common ground on which they all meet are the numerous bars and drinking establishments that offer a curious combination of anonymity and community‚ an ideal environment for a young man who is to become active in the Resistance.
Because as the war progresses‚ Yonnet‚ for all his natural scepticism and non-conformist anarchist tendencies‚ gets involved in clandestine warfare and ends up running a mapping and radio transmission centre‚ liaising with London to ensure that Allied bombings on German targets in the Parisian region are carried out with the fewest possible civilian casualties. But far from being motivated by any notion of patriotism or ideology‚ it is a personal sympathy for the plight of a parachutist in hiding that draws him in. It is the individual story to which he responds.
And this curious world that he now inhabits throws up the most extraordinary individual stories‚ which for Yonnet constitute the real fabric of the city he loves: stories of love and hatred‚ friendship and betrayal‚ obsession and jealousy‚ persecution and revenge – but always with a curious edge to them‚ a suggestion that things could not have happened otherwise‚ at that time‚ in that place.
What emerges from Yonnet’s stories is a sense that it is the city itself that creates its own history. It is not an inanimate construct. It exists on a level that transcends the physical evidence of the here and now. And events are in some mysterious way determined by their location‚ even as the location is defined by the events that have occurred there.
Whilst these are conclusions that Yonnet himself has reached‚ through reflection and observation and extensive reading of historical documents and literature on Paris‚ some of the low-life characters with whom he becomes acquainted – the cool killer Keep-on-Dancin’‚ for instance‚ or the Gypsy who exacts a terrible revenge for being insulted – turn out to be extraordinary repositories of this kind of wisdom about the nature of the city‚ and willing to share their arcane knowledge with him.
Tantalizingly‚ not all of their confidences does he pass on‚ having been sworn to secrecy. For such knowledge is not to be trifled with. It can be a matter of life and death‚ as we see in the story of the shipwreckage doll or the room where nothing but the truth can be spoken. Not that Yonnet makes any attempt to argue a case. That is not his style. He presents himself simply as a witness‚ although Yonnet himself is the protagonist of one of the most thrilling‚ chilling stories of all.
A born raconteur‚ he records with consummate narrative skill‚ an eye for the compelling detail and a finely attuned ear for the raw energy and economical humour of a Parisian argot redolent of its period‚ what he has seen and heard and experienced. In doing so‚ he brings to life a cast of unforgettable characters – from Mina the Cat‚ Cyril the Watchmaker and Poloche the Shrimp-Fisher to Pepe the Pansy‚ Dolly-the- Slow-Burner and the Old Man Who Appears After Midnight‚ to name only a few – and with all the accomplishment of a verbal sorcerer conjures up a Paris that has long since disappeared along with the population that once used to inhabit it.
In translating Yonnet’s book I have tried to capture the flavour of the argot – which sounds dated to contemporary French ears – without resorting to a vocabulary too suggestive of a non-Parisian environment – American or Cockney‚ for instance. I have also appended a few explanatory notes on some of the references in Yonnet’s text that would not necessarily be understood by English readers today.
Christine Donougher