On savait que Rome était a piège doré, que la dolce vita pourrissait de la tête et qu'il faudrait songer à plier bagage un jour pas si lointain.
Simon Liberati, The Hyena of the Capitol.
It was clear that Rome was a golden trap, that the dolce vita was starting to stink from the top down, and that one day in the not-too-distant future one would have to think about packing up and leaving.
Tu dois vivre avant et écrire après.
Simon Liberati, The demons.
You must live first and write later.
Simon Liberati's novel The Hyena of the Capitol From the year 2024, it is a synthesis of decadent style, literary reflection, and socio-cultural analysis. Liberati, born in 1960, a successful writer and flamboyant figure in France, is, as far as I can see, not connected with a single one of his Books The novel, set in 1970, follows Alexis Tcherepakine, a young man in Rome whose life is marked by a mixture of eccentricity, intellectual quest, and social decline. Moving within the city's decadent high society, Alexis works as a photographer's assistant and is drawn to figures such as the actor Helmut Berger and his own sister, Taïné. As Alexis wanders the streets of Rome, he encounters both the city's beauty and decay. These experiences merge with his own inner struggles, characterized by longing, spirituality, and a latent hopelessness. The novel ends with a moment of ambivalence: Alexis remains in a state of indecision between escape and lingering, leaving questions of identity and meaning unanswered. This plot serves not only as a narrative foundation but also as a platform on which Liberati explores universal themes such as nostalgia, decadence, and cultural change. The episodic structure and the fluid transitions between inner monologues and external action reinforce the impressionistic character of the novel.
Simon Liberati lays down with The Capitol Hyena Once again, he presents a work that captivates with its baroque language, dazzling characters, and dark facets of human decadence. He combines poetic imagery with an ironic distance that introduces a postmodern level of reflection. The elliptical dialogues and the novel's fragmentary structure create a dynamic that challenges readers while simultaneously drawing them into the text. Literary critic Pierre Assouline calls Liberati a master of the "style baroque et poignant" (La République des LivresIn a 2021 interview with Nelly Kaprièlian, Liberati indirectly connects his novel Performance – for which he received the Prix Renaudot in 2022 – with work on his latest book:
Je viens de finir un premier état de manuscrit pour les éditions Grasset. The histoire d'un écrivain sur le return, Fabrice, qui se voit force pour gagner trois sous d'écrire a biopic of the Rolling Stones. My heroes are 71 years old, at the age of santé, a sentimental scandal and a large figure on the patate, a little like me. J'en profite pour dire adieu aux années 1960 qui ont le grand défaut non pas d'être mortes, mais de durer toujours aujourd'hui.
Par ailleurs je compte faire paraître avec l'aide de mon ami, ennemi et mécène Manuel Carcassonne le second volet de ma trilogie des Demons, in September 2022 on Stock, this is now available. Title of work: The Capitol Hyena. The faudra avant que nous tombions d'accord. Carcassonne voudrait que je “m'ouvre” davantage et j'ai tendance à m'emmurer dans mes bizarreries et à penser à l'avance comme cet Anglais que cite Morand à Chardonne: “Est-il vrai que mon livre se vend ? Cela va navrer mes amis et me faire honte.”
Nelly Kaprièlian in an interview with Simon Liberati: “Je suis un bénédictin à la vie de pique-assiette débauché”, Les Inrockuptibles, November 22 2021.
I've just finished a first draft of the manuscript for Grasset Publishers. It's about a returning writer named Fabrice who feels compelled to write a biopic about the Rolling Stones to make ends meet. My hero is 71, has health problems, a scandalous love life, and is a real handful—a bit like me. I'm taking this opportunity to say goodbye to the 1960s, whose great flaw isn't that they're dead, but that they're still going strong.
Furthermore, with the help of my friend, enemy, and patron Manuel Carcassonne, I plan to write the second part of my trilogy Les Demons To be published by Stock in September 2022, God willing. Working title: The Hyena of the CapitolIt will take time before we reach an agreement. Carcassonne wants me to be more involved. "open", and I tend to wall myself up in my oddities and think ahead like that Englishman whom Morand quotes to Chardonne: "Is it true that my book is being sold? "This will disappoint my friends and embarrass me."
Critics are fascinated, but also partly ambivalent, about Liberati's second volume of the trilogy. In the first volume The demons (2020) Liberati takes his readers to the sophisticated Paris of the 1960s, already telling the story from the perspective of the aristocratic but decaying Tcherepakine family. Marked by sex, drugs, and destructive relationships, the novel ends with the tragic death of the brother Serge, who played a central role in the dysfunctional dynamic between siblings Taïné and Alexis. Philippe Chevilley von Les Echos describes the novel as an imaginative and slightly eccentric work that should not be taken too seriously. 1 The style is elegant and precise, yet also nostalgic and somewhat overloaded. Chevilley emphasizes the author's ironic distance from his characters, who navigate a world of worldly temptations and moral abysses. Despite this praise, he ultimately describes the novel as "kitschy" and "superficial," a judgment shared by other critics. Bruno Corty von Le Figaro describes The demons as a brilliant chronicle of decadence, deeply rooted in the sophisticated culture of the 1960s (“Une sublime décadence,” January 4, 2024). Corty emphasizes how Liberati connects iconic figures like Andy Warhol and Truman Capote with fictional characters such as the precocious Tainé Tcherepakine. This intertwining of historical reality and literary fiction lends the work a peculiar authenticity that is both revealing and fascinating. Frédéric Beigbeder drew a perhaps surprising, but not unintelligent, comparison: “He is someone who takes the 1960s the way Patrick Modiano takes the German occupation and makes something fairytale-like out of it. That means being sometimes hideous, sometimes sublime, sometimes nightmarish, sometimes mad.” 2 Some reviewers, including Berthod, criticize Liberati for sometimes relying too heavily on aesthetic surfaces and name-dropping instead of delving deeper into the psychological complexity of his characters, thus prioritizing stylistic elegance and a lack of narrative depth. The reception of The demons This reflects the ambivalence inherent in the work itself. The novel demonstrates Liberati's ability to weave literary and pop-cultural elements into a kaleidoscopic portrait. At the same time, one has to ask whether this brilliance alone is enough to captivate readers. The publisher promoted the book with these words: “Taïné has the poisoned beauty of a Pre-Raphaelite painting; Serge is a prince of darkness; and Alexis, the youngest and most unhinged, plunges headlong into love and provocation. The seduction of their youth turns into silent cruelty. Tragedy strikes the siblings in the spring of 1967 and accelerates the transition into a new era: the pop and sensual era of drugs, pleasure, and the Vietnam War. After the accident, Taïné tends to her disfigured face in New York, where she meets Truman Capote, the author of…” Cold-blooded, encounters Andy Warhol and his gang, and their inherent amorality sparks an eccentric, free nightlife.” Florent Georgesco saw in his review for Le Monde (August 29, 2020) the novel The demons Considered Liberati's strongest book to date, it is a dark chronicle of the "golden age" of the late 1960s, not only reconstructing a bygone era but also capturing its excesses, mythology, and downfall. A key inspiration for the novel is Truman Capote's unfinished work. Answered PrayersLiberati integrates Capote's structure and spirit into his own work. Capote thus becomes the author's "spiritual doppelgänger," while Liberati takes up his literary role model's unfinished project and completes it in a new context. The novel, therefore, becomes not only a homage but also a reflection on failure and the fragments of memory, according to Georgesco.
– J'adore ton petit nez, tu ressembles au Bébé Cadum!
The author of the compliment, Nico, a great blonde girl sitting on the shoulder of Alexis, has a beauté plus étrange et plus sauvage qu'International Velvet, with a frange platine, ses bottes de cow-boy, ses pantalons rayés en toile à matelas et la croix orthodoxe qu'elle portait en sautoir. Elle parlait French with the accent of German, the tutoiement facile, a beautiful voice spoken by the chanteuse of cabaret. Elle se tourna verse Andy Warhol, a homme d'une trentaine d'années, pale, maigre, efféminé with a blouson de cuir black, des lunettes fumées et des cheveux gris-blanc d'aspect synthetic sous lesquels dépassaient des petites mèches blondes.
– Andy, the faut that tastes the consumption of water… It’s a mouthful!
The photos of Alexis are available in the press and are given justice by Andy Warhol. In the physique plus influence of Nico or International Velvet, these "superstars" come to the surprise of the actors in these films, both in and out of the world, with a fascinating black light that is comparable to the magic lights. The light, the maigreur, this manière effrontée and timide de porter une perruque with a blouson en cuir défraîchi et des boots au vernis craquelé ne ressemblaient à rien de connu en Europe en matière d'élégance masculine. And with the montrait farouche comme une petite fille malade. The first question that is available is a voice that arrives at Picasso's villa, where his aunt Florette lives in the Cannois district of California. Alexis is available indiscriminately, to the extent that Picasso is available to him, and Warhol is available to manifest a regret since he is not addressed to Alexis, who is not looking after him in the face of another garçon who is his secretary, or his assistant, or his amant, Gerard, etc genre de petit beatnik musclé à tête de médaille romaine qui pourtant s'intéressait aux filles et s'était présenté en tant que poete.
En prononçant le mot "poète" Gerard avait fixé the visage of the grand-aunt d'Alexis comme s'il allait y trouver la réponse à l'énigme de l'Univers puis il s'était brusquement désintéressé d'elle.
When the woman in her life asked about the pensait of the last oeuvres of Picasso, Warhol responded and she responded to Gerard's address:
– I don't know what to say to the speaker.
Simon Liberati, The demons.
– I love your little nose, you look like the Cadum baby!
The author of the compliment, Nico, a tall blonde girl sitting next to Alexis, had a stranger and wilder beauty than International Velvet, with her platinum bangs, cowboy boots, striped mattress-fabric pants, and the Orthodox cross she wore on a necklace. She spoke French with a German accent, used the informal "du" casually, and had the beautiful, husky voice of a cabaret singer. She turned to Andy Warhol, a pale, thin, effeminate man in his thirties with a black leather jacket, smoky glasses, and gray-white, synthetic-looking hair with small blond strands peeking out from underneath.
– Andy, you have to try the leek consommé… it's to die for!
The photos Alexis had seen in the press didn't do Andy Warhol justice. Despite a less virile physique than Nico or International Velvet, two of his "superstars"—as he called the actresses in his silent or poorly sound-enhanced films—he emanated a fascinating black light, comparable to the glare of a witch's mirror. His pallor, his thinness, that brazen and shy way he wore a wig, a shabby leather jacket, and cracked-finish boots, were unlike anything known in Europe as masculine elegance. And with that, he appeared as timid as a sickly little girl. The first question he asked upon his arrival, his voice dying, concerned the villa of Picasso, Aunt Florette's neighbor in the California district of Cannes. Alexis had told him about it, but had also said that Picasso had moved away, and Warhol had shown genuine regret and had not addressed Alexis, whom he never looked in the face, but another boy who was his secretary or assistant or lover, Gerard, a kind of muscular little beatnik with a Roman medal head, who was nevertheless interested in girls and had introduced himself as a poet.
When he uttered the word "poet," Gerard had stared at Alexis's great-aunt's face as if he were going to find the answer to the riddle of the universe there, then he had suddenly lost interest in her.
When the old lady asked him what he thought of Picasso's latest works, Warhol answered, or rather, let her answer, by addressing Gerard:
– I'm not clear enough to talk about it.
A key theme of the second volume as well is the aestheticization of decadence. Alexis's statement, "Qu'il était beau d'être pauvre!" (How beautiful it was to be poor!), reveals the protagonist's paradoxical glorification of his own misery, in which he also expresses the decadent glorification of beauty in decay. Alexis Tcherepakine embodies the tension between superficial beauty and inner emptiness; this tension is not merely a personal conflict but also reflects the literary tradition of decadence as shaped by authors such as Charles Baudelaire and Joris-Karl Huysmans. Liberati takes up this tradition and updates it for the late 1970s. Olivier Mony, for example, opens his review: "After a dolce vita. In our time, in which a form of neo-Puritanism seems to be taking hold everywhere, decadence, or everything that can be equated with it, has a bad reputation." 3
The blue leather of the large Daimler sent the milk and the thé. Le bois précieux, les glaces qui separate le chauffeur des passagers rassuraient Taïné. On the Blue Boy's place near the back of the banquette, Dominique semblait sleeps the tête pose sur un écrin en camaïeu de sa tenue de marquis. Depuis qu'on l'avait maquillée et coiffée, elle availé retrouvé sa beauté androgyne.
Rome defiled the glass of the car offering a magnifique spectacle. Jamais la ville ne parut plus Belle à Taïné que this night-là dans this équipage. The part d'intimité qu'elle avait dû dévoiler à ces deux hommes, le crime qui était la trace de son plaisir ou du moins de sa sexualité, l'avait mise à nu et la rendait pénétrable par la beauté du monde. Splendeur des ruines et des pins... Lorsque la Daimler passa le Colisée, la haute silhouette fameuse, ces arenes où tant de martyrs avaient été offers aux bêtes, elle eut un semblant de petit orgasme. Mimi la sentit-il tressailir ? Il lui saisit la main beaucoup plus doucement que all the hours and commença à lui parler des palais qu'ils longeaient, des appartements dont parfois les lumières étaient encore allumées. The Rome connaisseur is comme sa poche and can attribute to the house to a detailed d'objets que son appétit d'expert, de cambrioleur et d'antique, mais aussi sa surface mondaine, the réseau infini qu'il avait de connaissances, lui avaient signals et dont il gardait l'inventaire en memory. The difference between the pendule and the transition between the medallion and the signal, when it is not visible, is visible. Si Dado Ruspoli, à cause d'un train prince et de ses addictions, était certainement de ses principaux fournisseurs, démontant petit à petit le palais familial de la cave au grenier, il y avait d'autres patriciens fauchés ou modernistes qui se débarrassaient de leur mobilier, de leurs tableaux, de leurs objects curieux. Depuis 1970, la mode était au contemporain et les youngen héritiers ne tenaient pas à garder les vieilleries que leurs ancêtres avaient accumulées. Rome souffrait d'un new pillage, un traffic intense d'objets d'art, et Mimi, sous sa couverture de brocanteur médiocre, était un pivot de ce traffic, au point de délaisser d'autres commerces qui l'avaient longtemps fait vivre.
Taïné l'écoutait, étonnée par l'érudition qu'il étalait devant elle. Elle se demanda un moment s'il n'allait pas lui demander de jouer les monte-en-l'air, like Audrey Hepburn in a film Hitchcock also resembled one person – Farouk or Hitchcock himself in the éclairages. In the jet in its grip, Truman certainly has an idea about the face. Lorsqu'elle lui ferait demain the rapport de la soirée, elle chercherait à en savoir plus. Personnage oui, putain peut-être, mais pas pantin dans les fils d'un romancier omniscient. C'était démodé. Non qu'elle fût féministe mais quand même.
Ils prirent la via Aurelia en direction de banlieues sinistres où les barres d'immeubles alternaient with les bidonvilles. Ils parcoururent la borgata, ce cercle maudit qui cinturait la ville comme une marque d'infamie. Taïné ne s'était jamais aventurée dans ces parages. Elle has the impression of a plus one of Rome when there is a ruin, a tronçon d'aqueduc or a colonne isolated pointait dans maquis de baraques en tôle et de many caravanes. Daimler obliqua sur un chemin défoncé qui se perdait dans un terrain vague. Aziz gardait une parfaite maîtrise du vehicle, la nuque raide sous la chéchia tel un chauffeur de place. Arrive in the zero environment without having to wait for the car to cook. Il sortit, ouvrit la portière du côté où se trouvait appuyé le corps de Dominique qui bascula dans ses bras.
Simon Liberati, La hyène du Capitole.
The blue leather of the large Daimler smelled of honey and tea. The fine wood and the glass separating the driver from the passengers soothed Taïné. The Blue Boy had been placed next to her in the back seat; Dominique seemed to be asleep with his head resting on a box the same color as his marquis's outfit. Since her makeup and hair had been done, she had rediscovered her androgynous beauty.
Rome, passing by the car window, was a magnificent sight. Never had the city seemed more beautiful to Taïné than that night in this company. The part of her intimacy she had been forced to reveal to these two men, the crime that was the trace of her lust, or at least her sexuality, had exposed her and made her vulnerable to the beauty of the world. The splendor of the ruins and pine trees… As the Daimler drove past the Colosseum, its famous lofty silhouette, those arenas where so many martyrs had been sacrificed to the beasts, she had what seemed like a small orgasm. Did Mimi feel her flinch? He took her hand much more gently than before and began to tell her about the palaces they were passing, about the apartments where the lights were sometimes still on. He knew Rome like the back of his hand and could assign a whole detail to every house, items that his appetite as an expert, burglar, and antiques dealer, as well as his worldly connections and the endless network of acquaintances he had, had brought to his attention, and whose inventories he kept memorized. Every disappearance of a clock or the transfer of the smallest medal was reported to him, unless, of course, it had come from him personally. Dado Ruspoli, with his princely airs and his addiction, was certainly one of his main suppliers, gradually dismantling the family palace from cellar to attic, but there were other patricians too, bankrupt or modernist, who parted with their furniture, paintings, and curiosities. Since 1970, fashion had been contemporary, and the young heirs placed no value on preserving the old things their ancestors had accumulated. Rome was suffering from a new plundering, a brisk trade in art objects, and Mimi, under her guise as a mediocre junk dealer, was a linchpin of this trade, so much so that she neglected other businesses on which she had long lived.
Taïné listened to him, amazed by the erudition he displayed. For a moment, she wondered if he would ask her to play the braggart, like Audrey Hepburn in a Hitchcock film, to which he somewhat resembled—Farouk or Hitchcock, depending on the lighting. When Truman took her under his wing, he surely had an ulterior motive. If she told him about the evening tomorrow, she would try to learn more about it. A character, yes, a whore perhaps, but not a puppet in the strings of an omniscient novelist. That was old-fashioned. Not that she was a feminist, but still.
They drove along the Via Aurelia toward the grim suburbs, where apartment blocks alternated with slums. They drove through the Borgata, the cursed circle that encircled the city like a mark of shame. Taïné had never ventured into this area before. She felt as if she were no longer in Rome when suddenly a ruin, a section of aqueduct, or a solitary column appeared in a thicket of tin shacks and old caravans. The Daimler turned onto a bumpy track that disappeared into a wasteland. Aziz had perfect control of the vehicle, his neck stiff beneath the chechia like a chauffeur in the square. He stopped in the middle of nowhere without bothering to park. He got out and opened the door on the side where Dominique's body was leaning and toppled into his arms.
Rome is in The Hyena of the Capitol Rome is not merely a setting, but a character in its own right. The city is portrayed as a labyrinth, its winding streets and layers of history reflecting Alexis's psychological turmoil. Liberati uses Rome as a symbol for the decadence of European culture, as he did in his novel. Eva (2015), in which the city of Paris assumes a similar function: “Rome, cette éternelle métamorphose, où le passé se superpose au présent comme les feuilles d'un vieux manuscrit.” Here, Liberati points to the city’s literary function as a palimpsest, introducing numerous literary and cultural references that position the text as a multi-layered literary fabric. The character Alexis is steeped in literary influences; he reads Stendhal. Life of Henry BrulardAnd its existence is permeated by intertextual references. The title "The Hyena of the Capitol," with its image of a scavenger, alludes to depravity, greed, and the moral decay that prevails in such a society. "The hyena in the shop window was so skinned that it had lost any recognizable form, apart from a very vague resemblance to a Tasmanian tiger." 4 The text portrays the hyena both as a real, stuffed animal and in its connection to memories, transience, and the fascination with the abyss. The publisher's announcement for the second volume points to the curse-like presence of the titular character, who, like the first volume of the trilogy, marks a turning point: "Her name was Dominique Mihrage, and she was known as the 'Hyena of the Capitol.' She was the greatest harbinger of misfortune in the 1970s. She appears one autumn evening at a dinner in Rome. Taïné and Alexis, the attractive heroes of the Tcherepakine siblings, have invited their carefree and successful companions. At the table, decorated with cemetery flowers and illuminated by torchlight, sit Helmut Berger, Truman Capote, Andy Warhol, and other daemons, poking at their zuppa inglese and telling each other stories." Unbeknownst to them, they embody a turning point: the end of the Dolce Vita and the beginning of a different, more murderous, more electric era. In the soft atmosphere of long Roman evenings, the poisonous Dominique Mihrage will hasten the misfortune. Love and death crash down upon Taïné and Alexis.
Austrian actor Helmut Berger will star in Simon Liberati's The Hyena of the Capitol Berger is portrayed as a glamorous yet decadent actor of the 1970s, a figure caught between attraction and repulsion. His appearance and behavior are both seductive and provocative, a theme reflected in various passages of the text. He is described as exceptionally attractive, a fashion icon of the era, comparable to the "sex appeal" of the Roman emperor Heliogabalus, and a diva with a mixture of arrogance and vulnerability. Alexis sees Berger as a kind of ideal, but is also wounded by his arrogance.
It descends from the taxi and passes the grille of the villa. A young blond man wears a vest with fine rays, a double and jaune pantaloon with a beautiful face and a pair of souls with a blanc immaculé that attend on a bench. Son port de tête jeté en arrière, son sourcil arqué et sa bouche méprisante annonçaient de loin l'archétype du minet immortalisé par les magazines de mode masculins, et encore mieux que ça: pour qui l'approchait, l'amant de Luchino Visconti incarnait un fantasme plus general, the démon de l'époque, the homme-objet, the joujou de luxe que les women et les hommes pouvaient mettre dans leur lit, a beau monstre insolent et précaire, dans l'air du temps. Helmut Berger has the profondeur de s'en rendre compte: cela durerait toujours justement parce que cela ne durerait pas. Depuis le succès des Damnés à New York l'année précédente, il en était si sur et si fier qu'il pouvait se lever d'un banc poussiéreux en dégageant le même sex-appeal qu'Héliogabale se maquillant sur le char du Soleil à la veille d'être assassiné, alors qu'il ne portait qu'un peu de fond de teint et du Chanel No 5. Il salua Alexis d'un hochement de tête. Les deux garçons s'étaient déjà rencontrés quelque part. Helmut Berger has saved himself and his dinner as a princess or in a Turkish bath in the Gare district.
Simon Liberati, The Hyena of the Capitol.
They got out of the taxi and went through the villa's gate. A blond young man in a pinstriped jacket, soft trousers yellow like fresh butter, and a pair of pristine white shoes were waiting for them on a bench. His head thrown back, his arched eyebrow, and his contemptuous mouth announced from afar the archetype of the pussy immortalized by men's fashion magazines, and more: For those who approached him, Luchino Visconti's lover embodied a more universal fantasy, the demon of the age, the objectified human being, the luxury toy that women and men could put in bed, a beautiful, cheeky, precarious monster that corresponded to the spirit of the times. Helmut Berger had the depth to recognize this: It would always last, precisely because it wouldn't. Since the success of *The Damned in New York* the previous year, he had been so confident and proud that he could rise from a dusty bench and exude the same sex appeal as Heliogabalus, who, on the eve of his assassination, was putting on makeup on the chariot of the sun, even though he was wearing only a little foundation and Chanel No. 5. He greeted Alexis with a nod. The two boys had met somewhere before. Helmut Berger couldn't remember whether it was at a princess's dinner or in a Turkish bath in the red-light district.
The relationship between Helmut Berger and Luchino Visconti exemplifies the atmosphere of the trilogy. Berger met the Italian master director in 1964 and quickly became his aesthetic and emotional muse. Berger's first role was in an episode of the film. Witches (1967) portrayed him as an ethereal embodiment of youth, beauty, and androgynous ambivalence. Visconti's influence was not only artistic but also personal: Berger, who came from humble beginnings in Austria, was introduced by Visconti into European high society. This mentorship had a transformative effect on Berger's identity, which oscillated between outward glamour and inner insecurities. Visconti gave Berger access to European high society and molded his companion from humble beginnings into a symbol of decadent elegance. The culmination of their collaboration was the film The Damned (The Damned, 1969), in which Berger took on the role of Martin von Essenbeck, with the iconic scene as Marlene Dietrich's Lola from The blue Angelas the embodiment of a disintegrating world in which the boundaries between gender roles, power, and morality are blurred. Visconti's death in 1976 marked a turning point in Berger's life. He lost not only his artistic mentor but also an emotional anchor; on the first anniversary of Visconti's death, he attempted suicide. The book also contains precursors to the later media self-presentation of these prominent circles. Berger's eccentric behavior is shaped, not least, by the expectations of tabloid journalism; he refers to himself as a "male striptease doll," a "poupée masculine à déshabiller."
Liberati explores the nostalgia of this era not only as a look back at a bygone period, but also as a melancholic awareness of pop-cultural contemporaneity. In The demons (The Dostoevsky reference is intentional) the decay of the surroundings is often used to illustrate the inner turmoil of the characters, for example a description of the dilapidated house that reflects Taïné's inner emptiness and sadness: "The past was stuck in the ground like washing machine drums or old shoes in a stubble field." 5 The 1970s serve as a metaphor for a world on the verge of collapse, similar to his award-winning work. Jayne Mansfield 1967 (2011), where the actress's fleeting fame is interpreted as a symbol of the fragility of fame and life. Liberati combines intimate glimpses into Mansfield's life up to her tragic accidental death with a broader reflection on 1960s culture, the sensationalism of the tabloid press, and the dark side of fame. Literary critic Nathalie Crom writes about The demons“In this sophisticated and magnetic text, which is both meticulously researched and profoundly thought-provoking, twilight and beguiling like a dark fairy tale, the writer lets his invented characters act on the stage of a shadow theater. The new world blends with the old – Aragon, Morand, Fabre-Luce, and Marie-Laure de Noailles encounter Warhol in particular.” Chelsea Girls and the entire Velvet gang. But also Truman Capote, who is stuck in his pompous project of a great Proust novel – which will never be realized.” 6
Alexis Tcherepakine is a postmodern embodiment of the flâneur, as exemplified by Baudelaire and Walter Benjamin; his intellectual ambitions and sexual fluidity reflect the fragility and complexity of an emerging artistic identity in Rome's creative world. He works as a photographer and assistant, but struggles to establish himself in this field. His inability to acquire technical skills is compensated for by his ability to entertain people through his personality, charm, and wit. His experiences and past weigh heavily on him, and he fears loneliness and the loss of his identity. This is particularly evident in his relationship with Standish, an older man he both admires and fears. Standish is portrayed as a gigolo, having previously had a relationship with Alexis Tcherepakine, thus embodying the seduction as well as the destructive and emotionally chaotic aspects of their connection. The relationship between Standish and Alexis is marked by power struggles, jealousy, and ultimately violence, culminating in a dramatic turn in The demons (One immediately thinks of the court cases between the author Simon Liberati and the actress and filmmaker Eva Ionesco, which also involved serious bodily harm). Alexis uses drugs and alcohol as an escape from his life and his inner demons. This addiction leads him into dangerous situations and intensifies his isolation. He sees Sister Taïné as a kind of mirror reflecting his own fears and insecurities. Through Alexis, a critique of the superficial and decadent society of 1970s Rome also emerges. His interactions with celebrities and the world of glamour reveal the abyss and the transience of fame.
On the horizon of the sun is Frascati and the façade jaunâtre, sévère, of the villa Aldobrandini. Devant, the immense parterre de buis ressemblait à un glacier. Il entendit des cris, des coups de sifflet. An attroupement is formed on the promenade. The police venait d'attraper a pickpocket. The brutality of the carabiniers, the résistance animale du splendide Garçon, son escamotage dans une Alfa Romeo grise, carrée comme une malle de prestidigitateur, rendirent the pierre friable du muret sur lequel Alexis se rassit plus douce, et the soleil d'automne infiniment précieux. The height is just outside the place of origin. All of the rooms are retro, with books, taps in front of Damier, with a peau de loup and other objects that recapture different views.
En brossant la poussière sur ses bottines en daim, the aperçut à ses pieds, sous un package d'herbes sèches, a small agrafe dorée dont il reconnut intuitivement la valeur. C'était de l'or, c'était un bijou, le fermoir d'une pochette plate comme une enveloppe, du cuir le plus fin, qui contenait une clé, un permis de conduire et la carte d'un fleuriste via Margutta.
– Alexis!
Mimmo le helait à l'arrière d'un taxi. Mimmo, le plus grand Italy qu'il connût, près deux mètres, des bras de gorille dont l'un pendait par la fenêtre de la Fiat presque jusqu'au sol. Le rendez-vous était déplacé à la Farnésine, au bord du Tibre. Alexis s'assit pres du photographe, qui s'empara de la pochette de cuir.
– Tu l'as volée à qui ?
Alexis évoqua the arrest of the pickpocket beau comme un dieu… Mimmo rota bruyamment, signifiant son manque d'intérêt pour la beauté masculine, puis regarda la photo d'identité agrafée sur le permis de conduire. Mimmo has an age of press cachée in a crâne de Néandertalien, the connaissait this lady: an antique débutante qui vait épousé a heritier de laboratoire pharmaceutique dans les années 1950. Personne ne l'avait vue depuis quinze ans. On disait qu'elle avait une maladie rare. A cancer of the face, quelque chose dans ce genre. Gorgonia is famous…
– De la came pour toi… On m'a dit qu'elle ressemblait à un Picasso.
Simon Liberati, The Hyena of the Capitol.
On the horizon, the sun illuminated Frascati and the austere, yellowish facade of the Villa Aldobrandini. Before him lay the vast boxwood hedge, resembling a glacier. He heard shouts and whistles. A crowd had gathered on the promenade. The police had just caught a pickpocket. The brutality of the Carabinieri, the magnificent boy's animalistic resistance, his disappearance in a gray Alfa Romeo, as square as a magician's trunk, softened the crumbling stone of the wall on which Alexis sat, and made the autumn sun infinitely precious. He was glad he wasn't in the other man's place. He would find his room again, his books, his Venetian chessboard carpet, his wolfskin, and the few belongings he had salvaged from various shipwrecks.
As he brushed the dust from his suede boots, he spotted a small golden clasp at his feet, beneath a clump of dry grass, and intuitively recognized its value. It was gold, a piece of jewelry, the clasp of a bag, flat as an envelope, made of the finest leather, containing a key, a driver's license, and the card for a flower shop on Via Margutta.
– Alexis!
Mimmo called out to him from the back of a taxi. Mimmo, the tallest Italian he knew, almost two meters high, with arms like a gorilla, one of which hung almost to the ground out of the Fiat window. The meeting was moved to the Farnesine on the banks of the Tiber. Alexis sat down next to the photographer, who grabbed the leather bag.
– From whom did you steal them?
Alexis recalled the arrest of the godlike pickpocket… Mimmo belched loudly to signal his lack of interest in male beauty, then examined the passport photo pinned to the driver's license. Mimmo was a news agency hidden inside a Neanderthal skull; he knew the lady: an ancient debutante who had married the heir to a pharmaceutical company in the 1950s. No one had seen her for fifteen years. They said she'd had some rare disease. Facial cancer or something like that. Gorgonia was her first name…
– Material for you… I've heard she looks like a Picasso.
Serge Tcherepakine, the eldest of the three siblings, was in The demons He died in an accident. His sister, Taïné, was thrown from the vehicle in the crash and suffered severe facial injuries, leaving her severely disfigured. Surgical reconstruction of her face did not completely restore her injuries. His brother, Serge, had an imposing physical presence, both in his height and his attire: a military uniform, a leather vest, and other garments that conveyed authority. His protective role toward his sister, Taïné, bordered on incest. The absence of parental figures and the traumatic experiences that shaped his life led to a sense of isolation and inner turmoil. These conflicts were exacerbated by his inability to break free from the shadows of his past.
The sister Taïné embodies the themes of decadence and nostalgia, reminiscent of the femme fatale of fin-de-siècle literature, such as Proust's Odette de Crécy (Proust remains a point of reference for the trilogy and a model for Alexis). Taïné is the product of a past marked by grief and loss, particularly after the death of her brother Serge and her difficult relationship with her family. These anxieties about loss and the yearning for her own place in the world are reflected in her search for validation and love. She is often in a state of emotional instability, which manifests in her drug addiction and her longing for a deep connection with others. In a moment of reflection, she realizes that her life is dominated by addiction and that she has lost control of herself. Her relationship with her brother Alexis is particularly striking; he plays a protective role for her, while she is simultaneously engaged in a constant battle with her own inner demons. Her relationships with men, such as Donatien, are often characterized by power games and emotional manipulation. Taïné is both seductive and vulnerable, making her an ambivalent figure who evokes both attraction and repulsion (e.g., her relationships with Dado and Théo). Taïné is also an artist who attempts to capture her perceptions and experiences through photography. Her passion for photography is an expression of her yearning for self-realization and an escape from her emotional emptiness. At the same time, she struggles with self-doubt and the fear that her artistic efforts will not be enough to free her from her inner turmoil. Taïné's character can also be interpreted as a commentary on the role of women in 1960s society. She is a representative of a generation torn between traditional femininity and the yearning for individual freedom and self-determination. Their experiences reflect the challenges women face in a rapidly changing world, including the challenges of addiction, sexual identity, and the search for recognition.
The novel's open ending, in which Alexis is left in a state of limbo between resignation and hope, reflects the central tension of the work. While in Liberatis Jayne Mansfield 1967 external events and cultural phenomena dominate, moving into The Hyena of the Capitol The inner world of the characters is placed at the center. The work combines the intimate exploration of individual fates with a broader reflection on the state of culture and society. Liberati anchors universal themes and the allure of decadence in a specific historical and cultural context; in doing so, he positions himself The Hyena of the Capitol as a promising middle part of a trilogy, whose final volume will surely incorporate the setting and artistic icons of subsequent years, such as Romy Schneider or others. In the conclusion of The Hyena of the Capitol Many elements converge in this story. The protagonist, Alexis, becomes embroiled in a violent confrontation when his former lover, Standish, threatens him with a revolver. The book explores the idea that life in Rome, considered by many to be a place of beauty and inspiration, is also permeated by darkness and destruction. This duality is reflected in the characters and shows how the search for beauty and meaning is intertwined with pain and loss.
The meeting of Alexis and Truman Capote in prison at the end of The Hyena of the Capitol It has several layers and meanings, also touching on questions of literary creation. Truman is portrayed as a figure trapped in his own creative process. He embodies the suffering artist who, despite his fame and talent, is unable to find the inspiration he needs. This inner emptiness is highlighted by his obsessive preoccupation with death and violence in his stories, which is also evident in his obsession with the murders and their circumstances. Truman offers Alexis a kind of escape—the opportunity to become part of his literary universe, which represents for Alexis a form of both dependence and hope.
In 1972 the old town of Regina Cœli, the buildings don't date back to the XVIIe siècle, it's encore plus it's still alive. The prison is open, between its moellons, its grills and its ses bocche di lupo, three mille détenus pour une capacity d'accueil d'environ mille personnes. The name of the prisoner from the Stanislas college is available to Alexis who has two points of comparison between a new misfortune and an ancient misfortune to bring about the loss. Also avocat n'entrait à l'intérieur des cellules. It is available in a large room or the prisoner's foul and hurlant with the avocado's foul. When Alexis pénétra dans l'ancien réfectoire des bonnes sœurs (Santa Regina Cœli était un couvent jusqu'au début du XIXe siècle), the marqua un temps d'arrêt, refusant d'avancer malgré la bourrade du gardien qui l'accompagnait. L'écho des voix sous les voûtes formait un chœur d'opéra infernal. On aurait cru à une répétition pour une mise en scène du Jugement dernier. On lui avait annoncé a visite, an avocat Américain d'après le gardien. He also contacted America to retaliate against Mimi's international revenge. This means that the devait contourner pour se rendre à son banc de parloir lui semblait cacher dans sa Manche una misericordia di merda : un bout de plastic or de mica aiguisé trempé dans de la merde afin de provoquer une infection, arme de fortune très efficace contre les donneuses et les gens mis à l'index. Au loin, sous a torchère transformée en lampadaire par un des électriciens fous qui travaillaient ins ce cloaque, se dressait a small chaise. On aurait dit un trône d'enfant, celui du petit roi des galères ; It is occupied by a gnome grasshopper. A caramel à Brandebourg chocolat enrobait this friandise étrange, variety de bonhomme en sucre pour patisserie. The little roi is available as an accessory to a celebrated person, a pair of lunettes with a mount on the smoke screen and dégradé, which can be transferred to the cell to portait Truman Capote the last time he arrives in Rome.
– Hello, comment from the child?
Truman's fausset voice can also be heard at the damn concert. Elle montait comme un chalumeau solitaire qui donna à Alexis la même émotion que The Magic Flute la premiere fois qu'il l'avait écoutée sur le tourne-disque de son frère. When Truman travels, Truman's evil eyes never stop. Les soucis, les malheurs s'oubliaient aussitôt. The sourire triomphant de ceux qui ont toujours plus souffert que vous et à qui l'on peut faire confiance.
Au lieu de lui dire « on va te sortir de là » ou une autre réplique à la noix inscrite au répertoire de ce genre de visite, Truman parla d'emblée des flans aux myrtilles que lui prepared sa cuisine à Palm Springs. The même goût que les gâteaux que lui mitonnait la vieille Anna, la servante métisse d'Indienne et de Noir dans sa petite enfance à Monroeville: « Tu sais, elle jouait de l'accordéon. » Face au malheur Truman jouait le jeu, le même jeu solitaire et généreux qu'il jouait sur le bateau des Agnelli ou en face de Perry et Dick, dans le couloir de la mort, à Kansas City en 1965.
Simon Liberati, The Hyena of the Capitol.
In 1972, the old Regina Cœli prison, whose buildings date back to the 17th century, was even more overcrowded than it is today. Between rubble stones, bars, and bocche di lupo The prison housed three thousand inmates, despite having a capacity of only about a thousand. The same number of prisoners as in the Collège Stanislas, Alexis had calculated, always seeking points of comparison between a new and an old misfortune so as not to feel too out of place. No lawyer entered the cells. There was a large hall where the crowd of prisoners roared and conversed with the crowd of lawyers. When Alexis entered the former nuns' refectory (Santa Regina Coeli had been a convent until the early 19th century), he paused and refused to go any further, even though the guard escorting him slapped him. The echo of voices in the vaults formed a hellish operatic chorus. It looked like a rehearsal for a Last Judgment. He had been informed of a visit, an American lawyer, the guard said. He didn't know any American lawyers, but he feared Mimi's international revenge. Every prisoner he had to skirt on his way to his visiting bench seemed to be up his sleeve. una misericordia di merda To conceal: a piece of plastic or mica dipped in excrement to cause infection, a very effective emergency weapon against donors and outcasts. In the distance, beneath a torch converted into a streetlamp by one of the mad electricians working in this cesspool, stood a small chair. It looked like a child's throne, the throne of the Little Galley King, and was occupied by a plump gnome. A caramel suit with chocolate-colored piping enveloped this strange treat, a kind of confectioner's candy man. The little king had borrowed an accessory from a famous figure: steel-framed spectacles with graduated smoke lenses, bearing a striking resemblance to the glasses Truman Capote wore when he was last seen in Rome.
– Hello, how is the child?
Truman's falsetto voice effortlessly cut through the chorus of the damned. It soared like a lone shawm, stirring in Alexis the same excitement as... Magic Flute...when he first heard them on his brother's record player. When you saw Truman, those mischievous Truman eyes, you could only be saved. Your worries and misfortunes were instantly forgotten. He had the triumphant smile of those who had suffered far more than you and whom you could trust.
Instead of saying, “We’ll get you out of there,” or some other inane phrase that’s standard fare on such visits, Truman spoke from the very beginning of the blueberry puddings his cook in Palm Springs made for him. They tasted just like the cakes old Anna, the maid in his early childhood in Monroeville—a woman of Native American and Black ancestry—had baked for him: “You know, she played the accordion.” In the face of adversity, Truman played the game, the same solitary and generous game he had played on the Agnellis’ boat or across from Perry and Dick on death row in Kansas City in 1965.
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
Notes- « The first time he wrote a series of novels by Simon Liberati… », September 15, 2020.>>>
- "C'est quelqu'un qui prend les années 1960, comme Patrick Modiano prend l'Occupation allerande et en fait quelque chose de féérique. Ça veut dire être parfois abominable, parfois sublime, parfois cauchemardesque, parfois fou." Le Masque & la Plume, Radio France Inter, August 18, 2020.>>>
- "Après la dolce vita. À notre époque où une forme de neopuritanisme semble partout s'imposer, la décadence ou tout ce qui peut y être assimilé a mauvaise presse." Olivier Mony, “Simon Liberati, La hyène du Capitole”, Livres hebdo, January 2, 2024.>>>
- “La hyène en vitrine était si pelée qu'elle avait perdu toute forme connue, hormis une très vague ressemblance avec un tigre de Tasmanie.”>>>
- “Le passé était enfoncé dans le sol comme des tambours de machine à laver ou de vieilles chaussures dans un champ d'épandage.” Simon Liberati, The demons.>>>
- Nathalie Crom, “Les Demons”, Télérama, August 26, 2020.>>>
