Hotel Splendide
Lately, my pursuit of literature has become aesthetically based, “lately” being a loose term with no definitive origin). This is not to say I’m merely judging the book by its cover, but often, I rationalize my selection of works via their outer jacket by the assumption that if I am in sync with the style of design, I will most likely enjoy the style of writing.
Hence was the case with Hotel Splendide.
Released just two years after the renowned Madeline, Ludwig Bemelmans’ breakout success under Simon & Schuster, Splendide finds Bemelmans in his creative prime and in a familiar setting. This fictional memoir fancifully recounts follies and forthright tales based distantly upon his position at the Ritz-Carlton in New York, from which he departed in 1926 to fully embody the craft of his acclaim. A master cartoonist and penman, Bemelmans writes here with a deep comprehension of the world he creates for the reader, a genuine authenticity that only lived experience can provide.
We find Bemelmans as a busboy at the Hotel Splendide who ascends the rankings to become assistant banquet manager. Perhaps the most level-headed character in a world of true characters, he observes and reports in a manner so convincing it feels objective, so matter-of-fact that you forget the narrator is not omniscient and can, if he chose to, relay his opinions to us.
Splendide proves the author-narrator’s astounding fluidity in every scenario, evincing the truest selves of all whose company he keeps. From the manic Mespoulets (French for “my chickens”), a near good-for-nothing who he briefly shadows, to the vehement Monsieur Victor, the vindictive hotel manager with a mild respect for Ludwig’s normalcy and work ethic, to Professor Gorylescu, a twisted magician with an affinity for spoiling women, Bemelmans (to our knowledge) removes himself from the situation and sets a scene that closely approaches third-person narrative.
A rather inviting facet of this book is Bemelmans’ masterfully subtle humor. He often plays on context clues from previous moments for a synchronous serotonin and dopamine release - the pleasure of finding the situation comical while feeling quite accomplished for understanding the (maybe-not-so) abstruse. Below are two exemplary excerpts showcasing this deft technique.
(Note the double slash as the moment of occurrence, a sudden change in situation).
“'A value as certain as the fact that we drink cold and piss warm.’ // Mespoulets left the room for a moment; then returned and went on reading.”
“‘Cheeses Greisd’ was an expression which [the manager] Mr Brauhaus used in every sentence when he was angry, alternating it with ‘Gotdemn it.’ Since there is continuous trouble in a hotel, he hardly ever spoke without using one or the other, and he was known by the employees as ‘Jesus Christ.’ // [Mespoulets] looked at me as if I knew the solution to a great mystery, and he stammered that Jesus Christ was outside.”
The two excerpts in the second example above occur about 80 pages apart, but if reader recognition and recall serves well, the double-entendre of Jesus Christ is powerfully hilarious. Whether it’s Brauhaus, the ironic embodiment of Jesus Christ, or the Biblical figure that turned time from BC to AD, both possess the strength to strike petrified awe into Mespoulets.
Characters come and go around Bemelmans, a mainstay who has a keen eye for discerning detail and individual disposition. Occasionally, they reappear like a magic trick from the headcase Gorylescu, returning after life led them away from the Splendide to reincite action and adventure for Ludwig and his current close company.
Similar to how the brain organizes time, Hotel Splendide reads in lopsided increments with chapters spanning six months or six hours, reflecting upon life in cool, calm Ludwig temperament, gracefully gliding through highs and lows, wholly unfazed by the most outlandish of occurrences.
Splendide is one of those pieces of literature that provides comfort in the most uncertain of times; a book that, once read, can be picked up on any page upon return and thoroughly enjoyed. It moved me like a busy Saturday afternoon: with leisure, bliss and an insatiable curiosity about what lies ahead.