I love books, but I don’t looove books. When I die, no one’s going to be squabbling over my collection of beat up pulps. There’ll be no reason to bring in an expert for an appraisal of any rare or historically significant manuscripts among my earthly possessions. My books are for reading and that’s about it. But there are some bibliophiles for whom it’s not so much the words on the page that counts as well, the page itself. The condition, the binding, the edition and origin of the physical book are what truly is important to them. They collect cultural history and sometimes are consumed by their passion for the unique and beautiful.
Sometimes it turns ugly.
One of my favorite things a book can do is put me inside the headspace of someone deeply immersed in a subculture, (or high culture for that matter), that I’m otherwise ignorant of. Sure there are those I gravitate toward and seek out actively, but sometimes a book comes along and blindsides me by making something I perceive as dull exciting and meaningful for a few hundred pages.
That’s what happened with The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte, about a Lucas Corso, a “book detective” whose expert eye and dubious moral stripe earn him an enviable living traveling the world, appraising and authenticating rare manuscripts. He’s a scoundrel thriving in the highly competitive atmosphere of book dealing and collecting and one gets the feeling he’d do as well selling cars or trading stocks, but fate has landed him where it wants him.
When the rarefied stratosphere of high-end book collectors is rocked by a series of shocking and violent deaths that are following Corso around the globe, his calculating and cynical eye begins to cast the world in dark and menacing shades and decorates it with psychedelic bursts of paranoia.
Why does he keep seeing the same people wherever he goes? Why do occult shadows line the path of his investigation? And why, for heaven’s sake, would a secret society based around the life and works of Alexandre Dumas even exist? One part literature lesson, one part shadow-history discourse, The Club Dumas is that precious, rare book that is one hundred percent a ripping yarn.
I don’t read a lot of ancient conspiracy theory books, but I’d wager anybody who enjoyed fare like The Eight, The Da Vinci Code, The Rule of Four, The Second Objective or Falling Angel would get right on board with this one. Even those who’ve seen Roman Polanski’s film Ninth Gate, (which was based on The Club Dumas), would find two thirds of the novel brand new and worth their time.
I’ve collected several Arturo Perez-Reverte titles since reading this one over a decade ago, but for some reason, I’ve not read them yet.
Anybody know which I should tackle next?
Jedidiah Ayres writes fiction and keeps the blog Hardboiled Wonderland.
