topic. The more I study the history of this city, the more I realize it’s a bottomless well.”
“I understand. I have the same feeling about wine. The further I go, the less I know.”
“I am not surprised, and I believe this insight speaks well of you. I’ve read some of your books, most recently last season’s Cooker Guide , and I must say I was touched by your modesty and your care to never judge prematurely. This humility comes through, even when you take a position.”
“Perhaps you can at least give me a small overview of that era so that I can grasp the essential points? I’ve always felt the need to immerse myself in history and geography and visualize the countryside, the scenery, the clothing, and faces. They help me form my thoughts and establish my opinions.”
“That’s the kind of sensitivity I appreciate in a historian. In a nutshell, I can tell you that Bordeaux and the entire Aquitaine region experienced pretty much what the rest of France experienced: the same indifference and the same magnanimity, spinelessness and bravery, cowardice and heroism, selfishness and generosity. You find a bit of everything.”
“So, the worst and the best, you say. You can talk to me frankly. I have no illusions about human beings, even though I have faith in humanity.”
“I see. Well then, knowing the history of Bordeaux during the occupation will either strengthen your belief in humanity or feed your doubts.”
“What do you know about political movements like the French Popular Party and the group called Fire?” Benjamin asked casually.
Renaud Duboyne de Ladonnet seemed to hesitate. He pushed his glasses up his nose, folded his arms, and pursed his lips before answering.
“From the start of the occupation, collaborationist groups sprang up all over the country, and some of them took root in this area. One of them was the French Popular Party, led by Jacques Doriot, a communist who was converted to fascism. Another was the National Popular Rally, founded by Marcel Déat. They were two large political groups under Marshal Pétain. I won’t go into the various theories that were expounded in all the propaganda they disseminated.”
“Was there a lot of support for these people in Bordeaux?”
“Yes, there was. It’s rather shocking, in fact. In any case, even the Vichy sympathizers who weren’t card-carrying members of any party cheered on their little leaders. More than three thousand people were at the Athenaeum to welcome Déat on May 17, 1941. He was invited by his friend Adrien Marquet, the mayor of Bordeaux and minister of the interior in the Vichy government. People were clamoring to get in to hear him talk. The topic was the New France in the New Europe. And there were dozens of meetings and rallies of this ilk all over Bordeaux. You can’t imagine how many talks were organized on anti-Semitism, national reconstruction, the evils of freemasonry, Bolshevism, capitalism, the glory of Germanic myths, and the war on stateless people. And, of course, there were the countless leaflets and posters.”
“In addition to these two main organizations, I imagine there were other groups,” Benjamin interjected. “What do you know about the group called Fire?”
The bookstore owner, who had been unpacking and organizing old paperbacks at the back of the store, walked over to the cash register and sat down. Renaud Duboyne de Ladonnet waited until he was settled and took two steps to the side. Benjamin listened carefully as he enumerated the various movements and factions that proliferated more or less successfully during the war.
The Fire group was really no more than an ephemeral spark. It never claimed more than three dozen members, Renaud told Benjamin. The group was led by a fanatic destined for mediocrity, a certain Maurice Delauney. He had started the newspaper La Tempête in 1941 to spread his hatred of Jews and everyone else he deemed responsible for France’s degradation. Before this