Racy Novel by France’s Finance Minister has Even the French Blushing
Summary
- Some ribald passages in the book are titillating the body politic, and drawing barbs about how he finds room for the hobby when many residents are struggling
In this land that celebrates public intellectuals, politicians have long embraced poetry and other artistic pursuits. Few have leaned in with such naked abandon as Bruno Le Maire.
Several explicit sex scenes in the new book by Le Maire, the French finance minister, have given the book a flush of attention and forced the government of President Emmanuel Macron to explain how one of its most senior members has time to write novels when people are struggling with high food and energy prices.
Le Maire, a 54-year-old with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, has responded not with an apology but by defending his personal passion for the written word. For him, he said, creative writing is an essential escape that for decades has been as much a part of him as his day job setting deficit targets and passing stimulus packages.
“It’s a very deep, inner necessity that gives me balance," Le Maire said in an interview. “I’m just trying to be 100% myself."
Titled “Fugue Américaine," Le Maire’s novel is the fictional story of two brothers who link up with a real-life pianist Vladimir Horowitz in Cuba in 1949. Gallimard, the publishing house that was home to Marcel Proust and Albert Camus, put out Le Maire’s book late last month. It describes the 471-page novel as a story of “clash between East and West" and a “moving reflection on human beings and on their capacity to live." Some scenes reflect other human capacities.
“She wrapped one leg around my waist, clutched her other leg to my ankle and tilted her head back," Le Maire writes in a passage that quickly takes a turn to language not fit for a family publication.
On page 74, Julia, one of the novel’s main characters, peels off her shirt and throws herself on the bed in front of the protagonist. The prose veers into ribald and almost clinical terminology, landing somewhere between erotica and shoptalk at a proctologists’ convention.
On France’s most popular radio station, columnist Sophia Aram read the scene over the soulful synth-pop of New Wave band Spandau Ballet. Olivier Varlan, a history and geography professor, said on Twitter the government should put in place a psychological hotline for people who had stumbled upon the chapter by accident.
After Le Maire answered a question from a far-right lawmaker in one recent parliamentary debate, the lawmaker said the minister’s answer wasn’t “dilatory," referring to a line in that sex scene that incorporates dilation. That triggered laughter on the floor.
“French people can forgive a politician for writing erotic novels, but they can’t forgive a politician for writing them badly," said Alexandre Gefen, a literary critic and research professor for CNRS, France’s national research organization. In Le Maire’s defense, he added that sex scenes are hard to write even for the most talented of authors.
Le Maire’s timing leaves something to be desired. “Fugue Américaine" came out just a day before rating agency Fitch downgraded France’s sovereign credit rating, and after months of nationwide protests against the increase of the country’s retirement age, a policy Le Maire firmly defended. Finance minister since 2017, he is widely expected to run for president in 2027.
“Millions of people can’t eat or fill their fridge, pay their rent," said far-left lawmaker Thomas Portes. “And during this time, the minister Bruno Le Maire writes novels."
Le Maire’s literary dalliance falls into a long tradition of artistic output among France’s political elite dating back to the French monarchy. Louis XIV was a dancer. “Dangerous Liaisons" was written by an 18th century military officer. More recently, former French presidents including Georges Pompidou, Valéry Giscard d’Estaing and François Mitterrand wrote essays, novels and short stories, and had close ties with writers.
Marlène Schiappa, who has moved between several junior ministerial positions in Macron’s government since 2017, used a pseudonym to write sexual self-help books for women, including 2019’s “Dare to Have a Female Orgasm." More recently, she made headlines by posing for a clothed photo shoot to accompany an interview in Playboy.
Le Maire, who favors tailored suits, is a product of several prestigious universities that groom France’s intellectual and political elite, including École Normale Supérieure. While a student, he wrote a Harlequin novel about a married doctor who falls in love with another woman. His pen name was Duc William.
He was working in the foreign ministry under Dominique de Villepin, himself a prolific author and poet who later became prime minister, when Le Maire wrote the 2004 nonfiction book “The Minister," largely a behind-the-scenes chronicle of his boss’s opposition to the Iraq war. At one point, Le Maire describes receiving an intimate bath time caress from his wife.
Critics have generally lauded Le Maire’s work, for which he received literary awards. French weekly magazine Le Point described his prose in a 2012 novel about another musician as graceful and breathtaking: “If he weren’t a politician, he could have—should have—been a writer," the magazine said.
French daily Le Figaro said it found “a lot of sensitivity and melancholy" in Le Maire’s latest book, “which celebrates music and the fragility of men."
Le Maire said in the interview that his work is strongly influenced by American novelists including Saul Bellow and Philip Roth, who’s known in part for his frank depictions of sex in such novels as “Portnoy’s Complaint."
“There is sensuality in the book," Le Maire said in the interview. “It’s a very important aspect because it’s a way for me to reflect the sensuality of Horowitz’s playing."
The finance minister says he discovered Horowitz when he was 27 years old via a CD of him playing Franz Liszt. “I listened to this record for hours and hours," Le Maire said.
It took five years of research on Horowitz’s life and another five to write the novel, Le Maire said. He would rise at 5 a.m. on workdays to squeeze in writing, and dedicate several hours a day on vacations.
For now, Le Maire says he’s not planning a follow-up.
“After a book that has required so much time, maturation and work, there will be a long period without writing," he said. “One needs to let things rest."