Abstract
Sixty years of uninterrupted production, over five hundred titles under a dozen pen names as well as his own, translations in more than thirty languages including Chinese, Serbo-Croatian, Catalan and Yiddish, aficionados in all parts of the world and all classes of society, Simenon’s achievement seems to defy the imagination. Although his place in world literature is now secure, he still appears to some as a phenomenon rather than a great writer, Andre Gide, Keyserling and Francois Mauriac, Celine, Jean Renoir, Henry Miller and Jean Cocteau (although not Agatha Christie) — the list of his admirers is long and distinguished, yet Georges Simenon seems to walk under a cloud: he is, after all, a writer of crime fiction. To our great delight.
Sign-in/Register to access full text options 
Free) 
Talk to us
Join us for a 30 min session where you can share your feedback and ask us any queries you have
Schedule a call
