MISSING PERSON by PATRICK MODIANO Translated from the French by Daniel Weissbort

 MISSING PERSON by
PATRICK MODIANO

Translated from the French by Daniel Weissbort

In 2014, the Nobel Academy awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature to Patrick Modiano. His book Missing Person, translated into English by Daniel Weissbort, was originally published in French under the title Rue des Boutiques Obscures (Street of Dark Shops). This novel also won the prestigious Prix Goncourt in 1978.

The story follows a private detective who has lost parts of his memory and suffers from this amnesia—especially memories from before World War II and the Nazi occupation of France.

The protagonist, Guy Roland, who narrates his own story, remembers neither his real name nor his nationality. After the retirement of his boss, Hutte, and the closure of the detective agency, he decides to embark on a deeply personal investigation—one that leads him to search for his own identity after years of solving other people’s problems.

Identity and memory are the central themes that Modiano explores in Missing Person. To ease the pain of his forgotten past, Guy searches for clues to uncover who he really is.
On the very first page of the book, a sentence sets the tone for the entire story:
"I am nothing. Nothing but a faded figure, a ghost in that night on the café terrace, waiting for the rainbow to disappear. When Hutte left me, the heavy rain had already begun." — Page 1

Old photographs, addresses, names written on letters and envelopes, and vague recollections of streets, alleyways, and Parisian building facades—these fleeting fragments pass through his mind like shadows, guiding him in his quest to reconstruct his past.

As Guy Roland searches for his lost identity, readers follow him on this journey. However, due to his fragmented memories, they sometimes doubt the reality of his story. Was he a Greek-Jewish exile living in France under an assumed name? Or was he merely a South American diplomat? His past remains shrouded in uncertainty.

For instance, one of his hazy memories involves paying a guide who was supposed to help him and a friend escape across the cold, snowy mountains from France to Switzerland. Along the way, they became separated, and his past slips further into mystery.

Modiano emphasizes the fragility of human identity, shaped by memory. The theme of searching for the past is evident in many of his works. In Accident Nocturne (Night Accident), he writes:
"Scents… they are the best way to bring the past back to life."
Our memories, stored in our minds, shape who we are. Without them, like Guy Roland—the novel’s narrator—we become lost and disconnected from our own identity. When memories fade, nothing remains of us.

It’s also important to note that beyond personal memory, which this book focuses on, collective memory holds even greater significance. For example, traditions like the ancient Nowruz celebrations are part of the shared memory of Iranians. Without them, understanding Iranian identity would be incomplete.

Many of Patrick Modiano’s books, including this one, have been translated into Persian by talented Iranian translators, some of whom I will mention in the video description.
Finally, I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you a Happy Nowruz and a wonderful new year. I hope you get the chance to read this book and enjoy it!

Notes from book:

" I am nothing. Nothing but a pale shape, silhouette that evening the café terrace, waiting for the rainbow stop; the shower had started when Hutte left me." Page 1

C.M.HUTTE 

Private Enquiries

"I'd like to know what became of Freddie Howard de Luz..." Page 55

"The letters dance before my eyes. Who am I?" page 70

"A mental picture flashed before me, like those fragments of some feeling dream which one tries to hold on to in walking.  So as to be able to reconstruct the whole dreem. I saw myself walking through a dark Paris, and opening the door to this building in Rue Cambaceres.  Then my eyes were suddenly blinded and for a few seconds I could see nothing, so great was the contrast between this whitelight and the night outside." page 84

"I was nothing, but waves passed through me, sometimes faint, sometimes strong, and all these scattered echoes afloat in the air crystallized and there I was." page 84

"I studied the facade for a long time in the hope of recognize a balcony, The shape or the shutter of window. No it did not remind me of anything." page 110

"And I no longer remember of, that evening, my name was Jimmy or Pedro, Steven or MCEvoy." page 122

" Tell me, Pedro... what was your real name? It always intrigued me. Freddie told me your name wasn't Pedro Mc Evoy... But that is was Rubi who got you false paper...."

My real name? I wish I know." page 129