Dutilleul’s story may have ended sadly, but Aymé‘s story is one of remembrance.
The Montmartre neighborhood in Paris, France, is a bustling arts district with a rich history. Many artists, musicians, and writers have called it home over the years, including the famous Claude Monet, Vincent van Gogh, and Erik Satie. Within the vibrant neighborhood lies a quiet plaza dedicated to Marcel Aymé, a novelist and playwright and one of the most prolific writers out of Nazi-occupied Paris. And within that plaza, one can find the curious statue of the man who could walk through walls.
The statue lies in the heart of the neighborhood, where Rue Giradon and Rue Norvins meet. Jean Marais, a famous sculptor, painter, and writer, built the statue in 1989 in remembrance of Aymé— nearly twenty years after his death. The face is of Aymé himself. The statue’s body is a reference to Aymé’s famous short story, “Le Passe-muraille,” often translated as “The Walker-through-Walls.” Aymé tells the tale of a man named Dutilleul, a resident of Montmartre who works a dead-end office job and discovers one day that he is able to walk through walls. This power turns his life around until one day, while departing from a midnight tryst, Dutilleul finds his powers failing. Legend has it he is still stuck in the wall to this day, something that the statue is clearly in reference to.
“Walking through walls cannot really serve as an end in itself. Rather, it is the first step in an adventure, which calls for continuation, development, and, in short, a payoff. ” (p.6)
While the short story may sound more amusing rather than political, “Le Passe-muraille” was written in the backdrop of World War II, like the vast majority of Aymé’s work. Far from being a conformist, Aymé’s writing is strange, magical, and fiercely critical of the powers that be. During the war, Aymé wrote biting commentary on the Vichy government of southern France and the Nazi occupation of northern France, picking apart everything from the rationing system to the self-serving ways of many of his peers. Following the war, he continued to protest against the new French government in his works, which were often censored at the time. While Marcel Aymé was a complicated figure who by no means fit the mold of the perfect resistor, it is heartening to see his legacy preserved as the witty, satirical, and critical writer he was in life.