Et Dans Le Ciel Des Hommes

Et Dans Le Ciel des Hommes is the second book I wrote after Bleu Moche Blues, which I mentioned in another article. The first was a novel without much imagination, in which I inevitably talked about myself. Generally, when you don't have much to say, you talk about yourself.

So I needed to write an anti-Bleu Moche Blues, to free myself and, above all, to let go of my imagination.

The result is this noir novel about a guy named Bret who discovers that singer Marianne Faithfull has been kidnapped by a secret organisation and that the woman we see on stage or on television is actually a perfect lookalike.

I wrote it in 2014, almost twelve years ago, and I must say that it has aged well, apart from the fact that Marianne Faithfull has died in the meantime. Except that, as you will have understood, the real Marianne Faithfull is still alive, somewhere, and continues to sing in this secret place.

I think this novel pays tribute to the Anglo-Saxon literature that I love. It's crazy, alcoholic and wild literature that flouts the rules but tries to grab you by the leg and drag you to the bottom of the lake while you're sitting peacefully on the shore, like that Native American spirit whose name I've forgotten.

I really enjoyed writing this book, and I hope that comes across when you read it. As with my other books, sales can be counted on one hand. That's fine. When I publish a book, I don't tell anyone about it for fear that my friends will feel obliged to buy it. The few people who buy this book are complete strangers, which gives me great pleasure and raises many questions: ‘How did they come across this book?’, ‘Was it by chance or did someone tell them about it?’, ‘Who could it be?’, and so on and so forth.

Here's what one reader said: "A great void! That's how you feel once you've finished this novel. Not because it's a bad book, quite the contrary, because you live through the characters, you can't wait to get to the end to find out how Bret or Ludo ends this part of their life, and then when you get to the last page, you realise it's over, the story is over, and you're left with a “great void” because you're no longer sharing the lives of these characters.

This is the second book I've read by Ludovic Simon, and the two books are completely different! Both are very good, but I prefer this one, which I was told wasn't my kind of thing! It just goes to show that anyone can be wrong. I believe there is a third one and I can't wait to find out what kind of book it is.

Et dans le ciel des hommes.... would make an excellent crime series on TV and I wonder if there could be a sequel from Bret's sister's point of view! An author to discover."

Yes, did you notice that too? This reader writes ‘... Bret or Ludo...’, which, you'll agree, suggests that she knows me. As it happens, she does know me. So, despite all my efforts, two people have bought this book, including someone who knows me.

You can't imagine how tormenting that is. I wonder how valuable her opinion is. I wonder if she's part of that secret organisation that's after the main character in the novel, Bret. Because this book never ceases to amaze me. Its madness is ever-present, and I really hope to write that damn sequel, from the point of view of Bret's sister.

If you have a problem with cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, criminals, whores, bums, pimps, cops, drug dealers and Nick Cave's music, don't read this book.

Otherwise, if you're not afraid to walk down a few noisy, dirty streets, go for it!

I'll get something like £2 when you buy this novel that will stir your imagination and excite your most sleazy and depraved side. It'll give you the chance to throw me a few coins while I'm lying in my own vomit on the pavement, and then you and I will be characters in this novel.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, well, buy the damn book.

It's here:

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