"Pour la première fois depuis quinze ans, le nom de cette femme lui occupait l'esprit, et ce nom entraînerait à sa suite, certainement, le souvenir d'autres personnes qu'il avait vues autour d'elle, dans la maison de la rue du Docteur-Kurzenne. Jusque-là, sa mémoire concernant ces personnes avait traversé une longue période d'hibernation, mais voilà, c'était fini, les fantômes ne craignaient pas de réapparaître au grand jour. Qui sait ? Dans les années suivantes, ils se rappelleraient encore à son bon souvenir, à la manière des maîtres chanteurs. Et, ne pouvant revivre le passé pour le corriger, le meilleur moyen de les rendre définitivement inoffensifs et de les tenir à distance, ce serait de les métamorphoser en personnages de roman."

The latest work from Nobel laureate Patrick Modiano, Invisible Ink is a spellbinding tale of memory and its illusions. Private detective Jean Eyben receives an assignment to locate a missing woman, the mysterious Noëlle Lefebvre. While the case proves fruitless, the clues Jean discovers along the way continue to haunt him. Three decades later, he resumes the investigation for himself, revisiting old sites and tracking down witnesses, compelled by reasons he can’t explain to follow the cold trail and discover the shocking truth once and for all.

As a boarding school student in the early 1960s, Patrick Modiano lived among the troubled teenage sons of wealthy but self-involved parents. In this mesmerizing novel, Modiano weaves together a series of exquisitely crafted stories about such jettisoned boys at the exclusive Valvert School on the outskirts of Paris: abandoned children of privilege, left to create new family ties among themselves. Misfits and heroes, sports champions and good-hearted chums, the boys of Valvert misbehave, run away, get expelled, and engage in various forms of delinquency and disappearance. They emerge into adulthood tragically damaged, still tethered to their adolescent selves, powerless to escape the central loneliness of their lives in an ever-darkening spiral of self-delusion and grim consequence.
A meditation on nostalgia, the pitfalls of privilege, and the vicissitudes of fate, this book fully demonstrates the powerful mix of sadness, mystery, wonder, and ominous danger that characterizes Modiano’s most rewarding fiction.
Special feature: J. M. G. Le Clézio’s foreword, here in English for the first time, provides a rare and insightful appreciation of one Nobel laureate by another.

This uneasy, compelling novel begins with a nighttime accident on the streets of Paris. The unnamed narrator, a teenage boy, is hit by a car whose driver he vaguely recalls having met before. The mysterious ensuing events, involving a police van, a dose of ether, awakening in a strange hospital, and the disappearance of the woman driver, culminate in a packet being pressed into the boy’s hand. It is an envelope stuffed full of bank notes. The confusion only deepens as the characters grow increasingly apprehensive; meanwhile, readers are held spellbound.
Modiano’s low-key writing style, his preoccupation with memory and its untrustworthiness, and his deep concern with timeless moral questions have earned him an international audience of devoted readers. This beautifully rendered translation brings another of his finest works to an eagerly waiting English-language audience.
has been named “a perfect book” by
while
observes, “
is cloaked in darkness, but it is a novel that is turned toward the light.”

En 1964, dans un café parisien, un client fixe dans l’objectif de son Rolleiflex le jeune couple assis à la table voisine. C’est ainsi que le narrateur fait de la connaissance du photographe Francis Jansen. Le souvenir de cet homme étrange et de leurs rencontres ce printemps-là vient le hanter trente ans plus tard...

«Et parmi toutes ces pages blanches et vides, je ne pouvais détacher les yeux de la phrase qui chaque fois me surprenait quand je feuilletais l’agenda : "Si j’avais su…" On aurait dit une voix qui rompait le silence, quelqu’un qui aurait voulu vous faire une confidence, mais y avait renoncé ou n’en avait pas eu le temps.»