The Panda Theory

December 2, 2013
In this taut, low-key thriller, French author Garnier’s first crime novel to be translated into English, a man calling himself Gabriel wanders into a small Breton village, his urge to kill—for the moment—held in check. Who can say what will ignite the impulse? Winning a stuffed panda with a show of skill at the shooting gallery at the carnival? Or nothing at all? The people he meets at his residence hotel and in cafes don’t have a glimmer of the nightmarish images that haunt his thoughts; instead, they believe they have found a new friend. Although Garnier (1949–2010) once stated in an article for his French publisher that he didn’t pay attention to categories (“Books labeled as noir or white, whatever—I’ve never been interested in that particular apartheid”), this novel is dark enough to sink the hook deep into fans of noir.

January 1, 2014
A man named Gabriel arrives in a small, nondescript town in Brittany. We know nothing about him, except that he knows no one in the town. Looking for a late dinner, he enters a bistro. Jose, the owner, tells Gabriel that he is not cooking that night; his wife has been hospitalized. The next day Gabriel takes groceries to Jose's bistro and cooks for him. He does a similar thing for Madeleine, who works at his hotel. Taken with Gabriel, Madeleine offers herself to him, but he politely declines. Garnier presents Gabriel as a human anodyne, a Samaritan as gentle as the titular stuffed panda he buys for Jose's children, and he bears his ennui by cooking for his new friends. But we also learn that something in his past haunts him, and it generates a denouement that Albert Camus would have understood. The Panda Theory is Gallic to its core. Some American readers may dismiss it, but Francophiles will embrace it.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2014, American Library Association.)