An Author's Rant

"Dwelling for months in the forest, in forced isolation, 
she had given birth to this masterful trickery of the mind."  

- Julien's Terror

For all those gentle Goodreads peeps who entered the latest Julien's Terror giveaway, and found themselves unlucky, fear not. I will be running a Bastille Day freebie.

For five days, from Thursday 12 July to Monday 16 July, Julien's Terror will be FREE on Amazon Kindle. This is for all Amazon territories, not just the US.

There were 1555 US entrants and three winners will soon receive their print copy. I have to admit I set up this giveaway in the hope that it would reach those with an interest in the setting and subject of the novel. I hope the winners will enjoy Julien's Terror and are kind enough to post a review on Amazon. (or Goodreads!)

Now bear with me as I want to share a glimpse into my latest novel.

While writing Julien's Terror, I couldn't help but notice something. A little background first. The story is set during the French Revolution, with focus on that narrow period from September 1793 to July 1794 called the Terror, and also during the years following the Terror, which saw the rise of Napoleon and the changing landscape of Paris.

It is erroneous to believe that after the fall of the Bastille on 14 July 1789, change happened overnight and that the people of Paris suffered no more hunger. The Declaration of Human Rights changed little economically. There were still bread shortages resulting from crop failures and extreme bad weather the years before. There was still inflation. In fact inflation worsened in 1795. Following the Terror, after years of social tension, of political and economic uncertainty, there was this surge, this desire for affordable pleasures.

All of a sudden, with the emerging bourgeois middle class, everyone in Paris began to take an interest in feasting like a king, in visiting newly emerging restaurants and cafes, and in feeling special through the consumption of a gastronomy that had once been the privilege of nobles.

It was also a time when the chefs who had once served aristocrats began to offer their creations to the wider public. And then something happened. Dalloyau, the famous pâtisserie chocolaterie, opened its first store on 101 rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Back then, it was actually called "Maison de Gastronomie", the House of Gastronomy.

It so happens that in Julien's Terror, my main character, Marguerite visits this store to purchase cakes before something tragic and quite mysterious happens. But I'll say no more...

That same Dalloyau store still stands today in its refurbished glory. I ate a Mille-feuille there during my visit to Paris last year.  Dalloyau is also open in many parts of the world, including Japan and the Middle East. When the first store opened in Paris, in 1802, it was a sensation. For the first time in restaurateur history, customers could "take away". They could purchase cakes and bring them home to enjoy.

One man was paying attention. About a year later, in the winter of 1803-1804, he would open his own pâtisserie boutique on rue de la Paix. He used his boutique as a shop front for his rising popularity as a reputable pastry chef, and for creating his lavish pièces montées destined for diplomatic dinners.

That person was none other than 19th century chef, Marie-Antoine Carême. Carême is barely mentioned in Julien's Terror, because you see, I was saving him for later...like a dessert that I was not yet ready to share.

While writing Julien's Terror, I observed the workings of my mind at all times. What had I just written? First, the mysterious Marguerite enjoys Carême-inspired vols-au-vents at her wedding, then she orders cakes at Dalloyau in Paris, later she sits down at Caffè Florian in Venice, and last she savors a succulent strawberry tart during the traditional strawberry month of May. She really gets around this Marguerite. Julien's Terror is not a frivolous tale, I assure you. Yet those frivolous ideas were flowing, and I couldn't help but tune into them.

It was clear. I was obsessed with cakes.

I was not only obsessed, but I was seeing parallels between Napoleonic France's preoccupations with all that is pâtisserie and gastronomy, and our own present preoccupation with fine pâtisserie - especially high teas, but also pastel-colored maccarons, Croquembouche, the lot daintily presented on porcelain belonging in the 18th and 19th century. This nostalgia is no coincidence. We want to go back there! Wedding cakes today are taking on flower decorations like never before.  Old-fashioned flavours like lavender and violet have returned. That whipped-vanilla-cream word, Chantilly is now in vogue in the English speaking world. There is a resurgence for that sugary time, that sweet indulgence of the 19th century when all the ladies of Paris were aspiring to do exactly what Marie-Antoinette had infamously uttered (a gross exaggeration), and eagerly practising what she had hinted to when she told them, or so they think, to "eat cake".

That's when it struck me. That's when the idea for Chantilly: A Tale of Carême was born.

I am two-thirds of the way through the first draft and I've been eating cake like never before.

If Julien's Terror proves too macabre for some readers, then Chantilly will be a gently whipped delight. Both historical novels cover the Napoleonic period. But whereas Julien's Terror is often distressing, psychologically intriguing, and speaks of real life horrors, Chantilly is rich in sentimentality, a fairy tale written for the heart. And most of all, it celebrates friendship and gastronomy.

I can't wait to share it.

La Guyonnière - an inspiration for my latest novel

Born in Hue, Vietnam, my Eurasian mother came to France for the very first time in 1955. She grew up in Paris and Nantes but warmly recalls memories of her summer holidays at her paternal grandparents' country home in Western France, in the area of La Guyonnière.


Her childhood was provincial in many ways.
She told me of how she would eat an entire Far Breton to herself, how she and the other children went cycling in the countryside, or else joyfully ate the ripe berries they had picked from the nearby groves.

It all sounded to me like an idyllic French holiday. I could imagine my mum in a summer dress and a little white apron, her hair parted in two braids alongside her moon-shaped face, her naturally tanned Eurasian skin basking in the French sunshine.

I learned from genealogy documents that my family's property in La Guyonnière extended for more than 100 hectares and was called La Roche-Thévenin. It had existed since at least the 14th century, passed down through my Bégaud ancestor.

Upon retirement, my great-grandfather, Pierre Candeau had become its guardian. Today, since passing on to his brothers and sisters, the property has been resold. It still exists but it is no longer part of my family's heritage. I don't know the current owner. I believe they often open the property to the public for commemoration of its history.

La Roche-Thévenin

Courtesy of Llann Wé 

When I wrote my latest novel, Julien's Terror, I stumbled upon the area of La Guyonnière again. It is an area east of Montaigu in the West of France, not far at all from Nantes. I had my characters spend some time there while traversing the Vendée. It was an accidental find.

I was actually researching the life of the Vendée general who, at the peak of France's revolutionary Terror, when extreme secularism saw the murder of priests and nuns, stood up valiantly to lead Vendée peasants against a government that tyrannised them.

From the rest of the world's point of view, Charette remains an unknown general despite being later praised by Napoleon for his genius military tactics. Charette was very much a leader of the people, and had been summoned by the peasants themselves who had had enough of mandatory conscription and the brutality against their priests. It is suggested that he practiced (invented?) guerilla warfare before the term became later known in Europe, following the Napoleonic wars in Spain.

It turned out that around the time when my novel takes place, there was such a thing called the Battle of La Guyonnière and it led to the capture of Charette. It took place in March 1796 when Charette had long lost hope and was living in hiding, from shelter to shelter. Seven months earlier, the defunct king's brother, the Comte d'Artois, who Charette had counted upon for bringing reinforcements, had decided he did not wish a part in the conflict, and had deserted him and the royalist cause, sailing back to England.

Now Charette was living on luck. He had even found refuge at one of my ancestors' home in Chavagne-en-Paillers. But in March 1796, his luck had run out. He was wounded and running for his life. Harrassed by General Hoche and progressively abandoned by his troops, Charette made way for La Guyonnière. From there, he and his men encountered a couple of the general's columns. They managed to escape to the woods of La Chabotterie until another larger column, this time led by General Travot, encircled them. All of Charette's men were killed, save for three. It was said the following exchange took place between Charette and Travot.

"Are you Charette?"
"Yes, it's me. Where is your commandant?"
"I am the commandant."
"You are Travot?"
"I am."
"About time. It is to you that I wanted to surrender," Charette replied, handing him his sword.

The Capture of Charette, Louis Joseph Watteau, 1796

Julien's Terror recounts the tragic fate of Charette following his capture, and how for several hours, to the sound of drums, he was paraded with great derision through the streets of Nantes. On 29 March 1796, exactly 222 years ago, he was shot on Place Viarme in Nantes.

Just as he had shown courage in the battle, he went bravely to his death. He refused to be blindfolded. He stood straight, and addressing the firing squad he designated the left side of his chest, calling out, "Soldiers, aim well. It is here that you must strike a brave man."

Charette's greatness is merely glimpsed in my novel but the landscape of the Vendée looms large both in my mind, and in this story which is so dear to my heart.

I can scarcely escape the pervasive presence of the Vendée in my family's history. One of my 19th century great-aunts was born south of Montaigu in the Brouzils, very near the forest where once Charette and thousands of Vendée peasants took refuge while infernal columns raged through Western France. La Guyonnière and its properties - La Roche-Thévenin, La Chausselière and La Friborgère - were all owned by my family. In the south of La Guyonnière, my ancestor, Pierre Charles Marie Gourraud de La Proustière had been mayor of Chavagne-en-Paillers, and his property brought refuge to Charette.

Despite this pervasive Vendée heritage, no one in the family speaks of it nor encouraged me to write Julien's Terror. I wrote it while knowing nothing of my family's strong roots in this Western region of France. While only one of my uncles now lives in the Vendée, in La Roche-sur-Yon, we are for the most part, scattered all over the world, from Corsica to Hawaii, from Norway to Australia.

I can't help but think it is no coincidence that of all places I could have written about, I returned to La Guyonnière and more broadly, to the Vendée, as though I was impelled by a collective memory, a spiritual energy that wished to be heard and take form.

We Bretons have a bond with the dead, so I'll take that. In memory of Charette.

Julien's Terror as a Psychological Thriller - Between Rationalism and Superstition

Julien's Terror features various facets of the psychological thriller listed by Mecholsky¹ including, apparent paranormal danger, a form of prolonged psychological torture, psychological trauma / memory losses and past traumas that revisit in the form of a new danger.

Julien, my main character, experiences a dread towards his wife, Marguerite which has as its origin: family trauma; the internalisation of a misogynistic mentality that would have been common in the 19th century; the internalisation of his own father's jealous paranoia towards Julien's mother; and finally the suppression of his own inner fears which rebound forcibly, manifesting into a terror. This is revealed during his final visit to fortune teller Marie Anne Lenormand, where Julien makes a powerful revelation about a crucial passage in his life.

The only person in the novel who appears fearless in the novel is Marguerite, adding to the aura of mystery and potency around her.

A young Marguerite Lafolye

Painting by Gustave Jean Jacquet (1846-1909)

For all his knowledge, engineering aptitude and cerebral prowess, Julien cannot decipher his own wife. Marguerite appears as an unknown entity. Mid-way into the novel, he considers her a liar, perhaps even a traitor. 

According to Mecholsky, this fear is key to the psychological thriller. He claims that this dread, that dangerous secrets lie beneath once-safe sectors of life is in fact an anxiety about the modern age and its implication. Despite living in an Age of Reason which had presumably enabled the French Revolution, despite having been rigorously schooled by the Ponts et Chausses, the Cartesian Julien is confronted with the limits of his knowledge. He knows nothing about Marguerite. Before him, is an unknowable being, one who reflects the unknowable mind in each and every one of us.

Aptly set in the French Revolution, Julien's Terror illustrates this modern dynamic that Mecholsky describes as having given birth to the psychological thriller - a modern anxiety (about the nature of the mind and the Self) existing through the Enlightenment struggle to subjugate myth and superstition by way of science and rationality. Marguerite is a Catholic royalist. Worse, she is of Breton descent. In the 19th and 20th centuries, the Bretons were considered not only filthy by the French, but also savage and backwards. Meanwhile, their 'blind' adherence to religion was seen as evidence of their superstitious minds. Julien's domination and abuse of Marguerite is a metaphor for this symbolic subjugation of the rational over superstition and myth. 

As modern anxiety would have it, Julien does not fare better through his actions - his anxiety only accrues and the enigma of Marguerite appears all the more horrifying.  It is only when Julien takes Marie Anne Lenormand's advice and considers the supernatural as a potential explanation for what is happening - at the cost of his cherished logic, only when he concedes that there may be forces he knows nothing about, and then pragmatically undertakes to confront these occult forces, can he achieve a solution.

Marie Anne Lenormand reading

In its resolution, however, Julien's Terror presents two opposing explanations for the reader that can be listed here briefly to avoid spoilers. The first explanation is grounded in rationalism, informed by a conversation with the physician Franz Anton Mesmer. Mesmer proposes a valid psychological theory, albeit one that had not been fully developed at the time, and which was only starting to be known in limited scientific circles, due to the rising cases observed and reported. 

The second explanation is supernatural. It confirms Marguerite's innate belief that she can see and converse with the dead. It suggests that there is something real about the myths in Breton folklore - they are not mere superstition. This explanation also implies that Marguerite, by way of a certain unique and harrowing childhood experience, now finds herself between two worlds - she lies in-between - and as such, she can channel the dead.

Les Lavendieres de la Nuit - Breton Folklore painting by 

Jean Edouard Yan Dargent (1824-1899)

At the conclusion of the novel, Julien rationalises what he has seen, to himself. He is never truly convinced about one explanation over the other, but he now understands that there is something strong and worthy of esteem in Marguerite. He is also made aware of his own past failings - though that is not to say that he has overcome them (an important point, if one is to understand his last vision in the Temple prison). He comes to cherish, admire and love Marguerite all the more. An ending like this was necessary to reconcile the couple after much conflict and to achieve a satisfying character arc for Julien. 

Despite Julien's own reckoning, I don't want underplay the tone of uncertainty that the final chapter creates - this fine line between the rational and the paranormal interpretations is the hallmark of the psychological thriller. We are not meant to know for certain. Some anxiety remains. 

The horror that Julien's Terror illustrates is both a facet of the period during which it is set (the French Revolution/ the Terror / the Vendée wars) and the repercussions this period had on the French population. 

Mecholsky indicates that the French revolution was a logical cultural goal of the Enlightenment, yet it resulted in horrific terror and murder, casting a pall over rationalism. Julien embodies this contradiction perfectly. He is both the most logically-minded character and the character that undergoes the most destructive and potentially sociopathic psychosis. Incidentally this is the reason the novel is named Julien's Terror.

Just as it opposes rationalism to superstition, Julien's Terror also highlights the ever present conflict between those French who embraced the Republic and were loyal to its tenets, and those French who pined for the Ancien Regime and espoused the royalist cause. This opposition is embodied by Julien and his wife Marguerite.

Julien is an upcoming bourgeois who has thrived in the new Republican order and accepted the Napoleonic age. He considers Napoleon his benefactor and the benefactor of France. Marguerite is a staunch royalist with a great disdain for the 'Corsican upstart' who has come to rule post-revolutionary France.

When I conceived a marriage between two unlike souls, I was partly cautious about its probability. I decided, among other character motivations, to employ a 'marriage of convenience' disclaimer - Julien marries the first woman offered to him to avoid serving in Napoleon's army so that he can instead become the engineer he had always dreamed of becoming. With this mindset, he spends no time evaluating her personality, background or values. By way of this disclaimer, I hoped no one would question such an unmatched pair. Still, I wondered how likely an alliance of this nature could have been. Could a republican at soul marry a royalist? 

I had no idea that this unlikely combination was in fact common. So common, that it existed in none other than author Victor Hugo's family². The similarity struck me and I simply have to share it here.

Like Marguerite, Victor Hugo's mother was from Nantes. Like Marguerite, Sophie Hugo née Trébuchet, was from a royalist Breton family. And like Marguerite, Sophie did not share her husband's Napoleonic sentiments. Madame Hugo went so far as to shelter those who plotted against Napoleon's life. Meanwhile, Hugo's father, Joseph Léopold Sigisbert Hugo distinguished himself as a soldier in Napoleon's army, rising to a high position, notably at the battle of Marengo in 1800, acquiring the Legion of Honour in 1804. He also fought against guerillas in Spain from 1808 to 1810 a period during which the young Victor Hugo became acquainted with the Spanish language and learned to love the country.

Sadly, and unlike Marguerite and Julien, the Hugo couple's differences could not be resolved.

A final word about Julien's Terror. Mecholsky explains that novels like the psychological thriller and its early Gothic form have helped us disguise sources of anxiety, throughout the history of western culture since the 18th century. Quoting Fiedler, Mecholsky alludes to one of the tensions that such novels help us deal with: "a fear that in destroying the old ego-ideals of Church and State, the West has opened a way for the inruption of darkness..." I think this is perfect.  You see, as a psychological thriller, Julien's Terror happens to be set during and soon after the French revolution, that is to say a period where the power of the Monarchy and Church were toppled, leading perhaps to much anxiety and guilt...   Here then, Julien's Terror provides a coping mechanism for a fear that has presumably surged during the very period in which the novel is set.

Sources:

1. Kristopher Mecholsky, The Psychological Thriller, http://www.academia.edu/17484925/The_Psychological_Thriller_An_Overview, Accessed on 12 June, 2017.

2. Albert.W. Halsall, Victor Hugo and the Romantic Drama, University of Toronto Press, 1998.

Celebrating Bastille Day

Romantic literature's portrayal of the French Revolution as a bloody affair enraptures the imagination. Certainly blood flowed wherever Madame La Guillotine made her appearance, and she seemed to move around enough to indicate that the sight of her was unpleasant and evidently not good for local business. But was there blood everywhere? No. That is a romantic fancy. Or is it?

Perhaps if you ventured in Western France, in the Vendée of 1794, then you might see otherwise.

Were there massacres? Oh, yes. Again, not in Paris. But if you travelled to Lyon or else in Nantes, well - let's just say the word, terror, is rather an understatement. How does the word 'genocide' sound? Some would argue against the likes of historian Reynald Secher who advocates for this stance. Many, including the French philosopher Luc Ferry, support him. But that there exists controversy about this word, 'genocide', and whether or not it should be applied for what happened in the Vendée between January and July 1794, is enough to stir attention.

But enough of the romance. It is Bastille Day after all - time to reflect on those raw figures from the French Revolution.

So then, how many people were executed in Paris during the Revolution?
There were 2918 executions, including sadly the mathematician Lavoisier because...he had once been involved in tax collection. Well, that's the official story. The truth is that he made an enemy of Marat and Marat destroyed him.

How many were massacred during that fated event of September 1792?
3400, including the tragic mauling of la Princesse de Lamballe

How many people were guillotined in total, throughout France, during the Revolution?
13800.

But let's not stop here. You'll wish for romance, I promise.

How many were murdered by firing squad, shot or drowned?
18500, including 2000 children and 764 women in Nantes.

How many counter-revolutionaries died?
180000 - actually this could be anything between 200000 and 300000 according to research by the likes of Reynald Secher.
These were not soldiers. They were civilians, including women and children and the aged - mostly peasants from above or below the Loire River. Those originating from the north of the Loire were called Chouans. Those to the South were usually Vendeeins.

How many died of famine, cold, misery?
7000

Now when the Terror ended in late July 1794, a new terror of a different nature began. Those 'Jacobins' who had embodied the most radical tenets of the Republic and were strictly intransigent found themselves the victims of violent reprisals.
How many Jacobins died during this so called "White Terror"?
14600

Note that 70% of the executions listed above took place between October 1793 and May 1794 - coinciding with the unleashing of the infernal columns into the Vendée during the Terror. Refer to the genocidal term earlier. It suddenly acquires more color.

One thing is for certain. Even beyond the official Terror months of Sept 1793 to July 1794, there was fear. At the minimum, fear would have been a natural consequence of changes and it turns out that the French Revolution did change many things. One did not need to be an aristocrat to have one's life turned upside down -  schools and monasteries were closed, churches were pillaged and/or destroyed, church property was seized by the state, noble property was seized by the state, street names were changed dramatically, the names of towns were changed, the religious order was secularized, the calendar was transformed so that even the weekdays were no more, the forms of address changed - saying "Monsieur" was frowned upon, one had to use the term "Citizen" to express equality - the manner of dressing, or of expressing oneself changed, the metric system was introduced, government structure and reporting changed, judicial laws changed.

In the patriotic hunt to weed out counter-revolutionaries and traitors, pettiness was rife. And if you were hungry or envious of someone who had enough to eat, then you might accuse them of hoarding food. In the same way, if you were Marat and felt ugly or disadvantaged in some way, you might turn all your party against someone who had once humiliated your beliefs and was part of the Academy of Science...oh, I don't know, someone like Lavoisier for example. In modern day parlance, those who are good at TED talks and have an axe to grind can really do some damage.
The knowledge of human pettiness, the fear of being accused of treason - all this was also part of the Terror.

In Nantes, when the Loire river became infested with the corpses of the thousands drowned, one had to stop eating the fish. Madame La Guillotine pales in comparison to the reality of the French Revolution.

More on this fear for which the best example lies in the Chinese Cultural Revolution. This fear even permeated the new government - National Convention members became protective of their stance to the detriment of one another. Robespierre's increasing paranoia embodies the very spirit of the Terror. Even in his powerful position, he was wary. His acute fear rippled through the psyche of France.

The number of people incarcerated into asylums grew. People were terrified of losing their heads. Literally.

Even the butcher of Nantes, Jean-Baptiste Carrier, in his desire to serve the National Convention (while enriching his pockets) suffered this terror as much as he embodied it. When promising to purge Nantes of counter-revolutionaries he managed to gorge the prisons of the city until it was evident that they could take no more without the risk of a massive typhoid epidemic. What to do with all those prisoners and the threat of disease? What to do? Why, shoot them by the hundreds of course. No, wait. Drown them. Yes. Drown them by the hundreds. The children too. That will do it. Panic. Sheer terror. Fix this problem and report to the Committee of Public Safety that, yes, Nantes has been purged. I, Carrier, have done my duty.

And then there was the economy, just to make things worse.
Due to severe grain shortages in the years before the revolution, bread was already expensive at the time when the Bastille was taken. Guess what? It became even more expensive afterwards. If you thought chopping the king's head and calling everyone equal would mean more bread, unfortunately that wasn't the case. There were some real problems out there and no activism was going to fix things.
The index of Inflation from 1790 to 1795 was as follows:
1790 - 100
July 1795 - 180
Nov 1795 - 340

In early 1790, the government had issued a new paper currency called "assignat". In the next year, they pumped more assignats into circulation so that by late 1791, the currency's purchasing power had dropped by 14%. The fall of the assignat continued  well into 1795, so that by November 1795, purchasing power had decreased by 99%. Fun times. How does one plan when everything is chaos?

Then Napoleon happened. But that is another story.

In Rennes, there is a bronze statue of a man tearing a piece of paper. It receives a lot of attention. It was erected there to commemorate a brave figure. His name is Jean Leperdit. He was mayor of Rennes for several months during the Terror. The statue is amazing. It symbolizes defiance, courage and humanity. See, during the Terror, when Jean-Baptiste Carrier was on a killing rampage sending out letters and lists all over Western France asking for the execution of counter-revolutionaries, this Jean Leperdit reportedly stood up against Carrier and tore up a list of 23 names, refusing to execute these people. It is difficult to know if the story is true but it embodies for me the courage of all those moderating agents during the French revolution - people who were not swept up by terror or fear and managed to preserve their humanity in the face of chaos. These are the people I celebrate when I celebrate Bastille Day.

It could have been worse.

So then, Happy Bastille Day!

The Child in the Temple: the Fate of Marie-Antoinette's Son

The fate of Marie-Antoinette's second son fascinates. The heir to the French throne upon his brother's earlier death, the Dauphin, Louis-Charles was only eight-years old when in 1792, his entire family was imprisoned in the Temple prison of Paris. Then began his torment, abuse and neglect until three years later, he died - a fate that no mother would wish for her child. 

That the child who perished on 8 June 1795 was indeed Louis-Charles and not another, was only confirmed seventeen years ago following DNA analysis of his preserved heart. The scientific findings put to rest 200 years of rumours that he may have escaped or exchanged places with another. 

While the enigma surrounding Louis-Charles' death vanished, his last years were rendered all the more tragic now that their certainty had been established. Two years after these DNA findings, French Legion of Honor recipient and author, Françoise Chandernagor, published a disturbing and moving account of Louis-Charles' journey through imprisonment and death. Titled La Chambre (The Bedroom) her novel often embraces a child's point of view in an attempt to recreate the fear, distress and emotional pain the young boy - King of France - may have experienced from 1794 to 1795. La Chambre also presents a poignant psychosocial analysis of what it meant to be a jailer of Louis-Charles in a time of Terror, where suspicion and miserliness were rife, and how Louis-Charles' neglect arose not so much from malice and royalist hatred but rather from both fear of arrest and a dysfunctional system. 

La Chambre could be seen as reckoning, a way to cast national guilt aside, and deal with the horrors inflicted on this child. It remains a well-researched and haunting account.

The long agony of Louis Charles' imprisonment haunted me to such a degree that I wanted to give voice to this child's crushed spirit. A child that was forgotten, who by all accounts, was once told by his father, Louis XVI to never seek revenge - yet what if he had?  What if his revenge manifested as a haunting?  In occult belief, there is an understanding that spirits cannot rest when they have suffered a great violence or injustice, and that they or some energy they have left behind, will remain forever to roam the place of their torment. What if Louis-Charles had returned to his austere prison tower? 

This is the premise I play with in my latest novel, Julien's Terror.

Yet this haunting could not have lasted long, because today, nothing remains of the Temple prison or of the surrounding Temple buildings. All were demolished by 1811. When Napoleon was crowned emperor in 1804, he was all too aware of the royalists' disfavor. In March 1808 at which time the Temple no longer served as a prison, royalist pilgrimages to the Temple had increased.  Not wanting to arouse the royalists' fever, Napoleon ordered the Temple's demolition. On 7 October 1808, Robert Morel purchased the temple prison under the condition that he would carry out Napoleon's orders - removing every stone until nothing was left. Robert Morel, or rather my fictional rendition of this historical figure, is featured in Julien's Terror. He is presented as a profiteer, intent on delaying the Temple's deconstruction to raise as much profit as possible from pilgrimages and from the sale of every object having belonged to the royal family. 

Door to the large Temple tower - preserved in Vincennes

Writing about a hypothetical haunting is one thing, but how does one write about a structure or building that no longer exists? At least when I wrote about the construction of the 15th century Forbidden Palace in Beijing for my first novel, The Ming Storytellers, I was aided by a real-life visit to the somewhat changed yet still standing palace. But in modern Paris, nothing remains of Le Temple. Nothing. Napoleon got his wish.  

With some research and thanks to several sources, not excluding Chandernagor's La Chambre, I was able to piece out the logistics of this tower, notably how the second and third floors of the temple prison would have been laid out at the time of Louis-Charles' imprisonment. 

 Temple prison floors - August 1792 to December 1795 

with my English lettering added

The second floor (shaded purple, left) had been the residence of Louis XVI prior to his execution in January 1793.  The King's bedroom (directly below the Queen's bedroom shown in the red-shaded floor) eventually became Louis-Charles' bedroom a year later. Since July 1793, the boy had been taken away from his mother and submitted to the injurious care of Antoine Simon, a cobbler. Now they would remove him from Simon's care. This could only be better for the poor nine-year old. One would think. Alas, no. 

  

Contrary to what is shown in the above floor layout, from January 1794 the King's bedroom was no longer accessible from the antechamber. The wall between the antechamber and the bedroom was sealed and a compartment, housing a heating stove was constructed in its place. This permitted heating but had the effect of immuring the child so that entry to his room was only accessible after having crossed into the valet's room (Clery's bedroom), across right and down the corridor. This made his isolation complete. 

And from 1794 to the end of the Terror in July, this room is all Louis-Charles ever saw. He was in solitary confinement for over six months. No toys. No books. No images. Little light. Love? Hugs? The voice of his mother? He did not even know what had become of her. No one had told him. Was he being punished? His imagination being that of a nine-year old's, might have interpreted his isolation as punishment. He was no longer cherished, no longer loved, it was clear. That could only mean he had done something wrong. 

Putting aside the lack of light, the longing for any comfort in a darkness that children so fear, putting aside the absence of books, toys - one can only imagine the psychological torment that solitary confinement would have had on any child who had once known complete adoration and been lavished with care. A time of pain and sorrow is only more vivid when we have known joy, and so Louis-Charles' long-lost carefree days only exacerbated the destitution that he now found in this miserly room with its lurid yellow wallpaper.

His meals were pushed through an opening and no one cared whether he ate or not. In fact Louis-Charles, after he had surmounted fear, distress and sadness, descended into such a neglected state that he began to not care at all about his own person.  His degradation is made all too clear in La Chambre. He lived in filth - excrement piling up in every corner of the room, lice and bed bugs infesting his bed and crawling upon his skin. He developed tuberculosis. 

TO BE CONTINUED... 

Julien's Terror - Joseph Fouché visits Marie Anne Lernormand

I don't often share snippets from my work in progress but this won't reveal much of the plot so I'll give it a go. This is one of my favorite short scenes from Julien's Terror, due for release in July this year. 

Here, I pit Parisian fortune teller, Marie Anne Lenormand, against Minister of Police Joseph Fouché. The order from Napoleon is based on fact - he was secretly planning to divorce Josephine in order to marry Marie Louise of Austria...

***

The door at 5 rue de Tournon swiveled open and Marie Anne Lenormand came face-to-face with the Minister of Police, Joseph Fouché.

“Plotting with the aristocrats can lend you in prison, mademoiselle.”

His sly smile chilled her bones. The man who had once voted for King Louis XVI’s execution won no favors with Marie Anne.

“My royalists are well behaved,” she quipped, still standing by the doorway. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Things have been a little chaotic here, for a few years. Having a glimpse into their future allows the Parisians to sleep at night. After all,” she added, alluding to him, “not many of us can change allegiance as frequently as their linen.”

Fouché’s thin lips were pursed and he shot her a murderous glare. Marie Anne saw that her remark had hit its target.

“I am warning you, that is all. Call it courtesy.”

“You could, yourself, predict the future but the doom and gloom would suit no clients, Fouché. What do you really want?”

“May I?” He gestured towards the door.

She let him in.

Fouché’s piercing small eyes missed nothing of his surroundings. He strolled on the thick carpet in the entrance hall and sat himself on a Louis XV seat. Then he crossed his leg and reclined, drawing out a pipe which he pressed to his lips.

Marie Anne Lenormand remained standing at the door.

“My clients are waiting, Fouché. Are you planning on arresting me?”

“Not this time.”

“Then what is it you want?”

He inhaled quietly, his sunken cheeks appearing all the more spectral under the dim candle light.

“It’s simple. I want you to start turning away Josephine de Bauharnais. Without revealing state secrets, I can tell you, that the emperor is entering a state of affairs that can only agitate her in the months to come. Josephine has, as I understand it, often had recourse to your generous services. When the moment arrives, and I believe it will be soon, she is likely to turn to you. Just as she has, countless times. For this reason, much as the emperor has tolerated your charlatan cabinet for years, his warning is now explicit. He wishes that there be absolutely no influence on your part. Mademoiselle Lenormand, may I make this very clear. Your affairs, meddling with the empress are now ended. Do you understand?”

“You wish me to turn away the empress on her next visit?”

“That is correct. And the visit after that. And the one after. It is over, mademoiselle.”

“You would prevent me from seeing Josephine de Beauharnais?”

“Something like that.”

“Then I say, Monsieur Fouché that you are as much a crook as I am.”

“If you say so.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“That, mademoiselle, would be very, very unwise. If you so much as meet Josephine de Beauharnais, either in this house, or elsewhere, or even – and don’t think me a fool – even in the Luxembourg gardens, I shall know of it. I have spies watching your every moves, mademoiselle. And if I find that you have lent your services once again to the empress, I shall have no recourse but to arrest you. Mark my words.”

“Arrest me? For seeing the empress who willingly engages my science? The nerve of it!”

“Your black arts, your charlatan tricks, whatever you want to call them. By all means, indulge another, but not the empress.”

“You cannot arrest me for obliging a willing client!”

Fouché put away his pipe and rose, indicating that the interview was finished. Marie Anne stood away from the door and pulled it open.

“Get out!”

“I will be watching you, mademoiselle.”

And he let himself out without looking back.

***

Julien's Terror is psychological thriller/mystery set in post revolutionary France. 

Julien's Terror - Imagining the French Revolution

Julien's Terror, my latest novel, is the story of a haunting - a haunting that is either metaphysical or psychological, or is it both? 

Set in the dramatic period of the French Revolution, culminating into Napoleon's empire, it revolves around a young couple from different walks of life. Yet both have lived tragedy and both are touched by it. 

Julien's Terror features impressive figures of the French Revolution, including Charette, the Vendée counter-revolutionary and Marie Anne Lenormand, the celebrated Parisian fortuneteller.

Historical figures who play a minor role in the story but which I place on a pedestal, are the author, Madame de Staël who Napoleon hated, and the famed Austrian physician, Franz Anton Mesmer, whose works laid the foundation for hypnotism and psychotherapy.

The novel is dedicated to Charette.

While some dates around Charette’s presence in the Gralas forest may have been modified or blurred to aid the narrative, the events of the Vendée war depicted in Julien's Terror and the tragic massacres that unfolded in Western France are historical. 

When I was a teen, enamoured of art, I reproduced a centuries old drawing depicting Charette’s entry into Nantes on February 1795. At this young age, I knew not the significance of this drawing and its relation to the French Revolution.

Many years later, I learned the meaning of this drawing. It was a truce (not in the novel). Charette had agreed to a truce with the Republic and one of the secret conditions of this truce was that the revolutionaries would free the young king, Louis Charles. The truce was later ignored, as more fighting between Republicans and the Vendéens insued. 

Meanwhile, the young King, Louis Charles died in the Tower of the Temple in Paris. He was neglected and suffered the worst conditions. 

Ah, I almost forgot. Louis Charles is a central figure in Julien's Terror. 

There are many things that drove me to write Julien's Terror. On the one hand I was unsettled by the disturbing fate which an eight year old was forced to suffer until his death.  I wondered at times whether Louis Charles' soul might not haunt Le Temple had Napoleon not demolished it... 

There were also personal reasons - my awe for Charette is one of them.

Recently, while researching my Breton and French genealogy, I discovered that one of my 18^th century ancestors, had hidden Charette in the area of Montaigu, south of Nantes. It was that perilous time, prior to Charette’s capture in 1796, when the Vendée general had been abandoned by most, and erred from farm to farm in search of an asylum. I was proud of my ancestor for hiding Charette.

There was also the urge to tell the world of something tragic, to reveal a past...

Nantes is my home city in France, the city of my ancestors and a place that I have returned to many times since childhood. But when I visited in 2013, I experienced an urge to write about the drownings, the “noyades”, and to depict the tragedy that befell Nantes during the Terror.

And then, there was a fascination for the psychology of the people of France in those times. 

More than simply creating a character who had lived those events of the Revolution, I wanted to create a dynamic between two people, both damaged by their experience of the reign of terror. I examined the psychology of that period. What was fascinating was the increased resort to fortune telling services; the arts practiced by Marie Anne Lenormand were never more popular than from the revolution to the First Empire, where people sought answers and were deeply anxious about their future, and the future of France.

Delving into the past, with a psychological lens, I envisaged these historical events as a major cause for the rise in suicides, the growing number of asylum patients and the rise in depression. And then I remembered the majority. The majority which in all appearances seemed to not exhibit mental problems. If they did, then these poor souls never sought help, because such psychological help did not exist as it does today. This majority whose mental illness would remain concealed in a domestic realm, would resume living, but it would forever hide wounds.

That’s when I realised that this majority, it was an entire nation. And perhaps just as France’s wounds were never healed completely, so too, there exists today, in most parts of the world, wounds that have not healed and psyches that are forever marked by historical events. In essence, it is the psychohistorical dimension of this novel which most drove me to write.