Maurice Leblanc
12 books
- You get a darker, more tangled Lupin here, framed for Kesselbach’s murder and pulled into a conspiracy that reaches far beyond a clever burglary. It’s less playful than the earlier stories, with disguises and reversals piling up, but the uneasy, almost ruthless Lupin makes it fascinating.
- Leblanc stacks the deck shamelessly for his gentleman thief, so you get the fun of watching a barely disguised Sherlock Holmes get outfoxed on French soil, poor Wilson taking most of the bruises. Light, cheeky, and quick; read it grinning, not expecting fair play.
- You get Lupin speaking in his own polished, mischievous voice, turning thefts, disguises, and detective puzzles into little performances while Ganimard tries to keep up. The stories can feel uneven and decidedly old-fashioned, but his vanity, nerve, and pleasure in outwitting everyone make the reading pleasantly sly.
- You’ll enjoy watching Lupin turn confession into another performance: charming, vain, generous, and never quite as trustworthy as he sounds. The stories feel like polished little puzzles, with disguises, stolen jewels, and sudden shifts in what you thought you understood, though the episodic structure can feel slightly uneven.
- Lupin actually loses for most of this one, which is what makes it fun: Daubrecq, a toad of a blackmailing politician, outplays him again and again while a man's date with the guillotine creeps closer. If you like your gentleman thief humbled and scrambling, start here.
- You get eight little puzzles solved by Rénine, who is really Lupin being charming under an alias, each one a favor to win over the lovely Hortense. Lighter and more romantic than a proper detective yarn, and the cases resolve with a magician's flourish rather than grim logic.
- You’ll have fun watching Lupin turn locked rooms, disguises, and police traps into little games of wit, especially when he toys with Inspector Ganimard. The early stories are brisk and episodic, with a pleasantly theatrical, old-fashioned style, so settle in for charm and cleverness rather than psychological depth.
- You’ll like this if you can tolerate Leblanc’s more melodramatic side: Patrice Belval and nurse Coralie get tangled in a wartime conspiracy involving stolen gold, secret identities, and the sinister Essarès. It’s less a breezy Lupin caper than a breathless, occasionally overripe adventure, with Lupin’s shadow hanging over everything.
- You watch the sharp young Isidore Beautrelet chase Lupin through French history, clues, and the cliffs of Étretat. It’s an old-fashioned, melodramatic puzzle, but the pleasure is real: Lupin’s charm keeps colliding with Beautrelet’s stubborn intelligence, and every answer opens another door.
- Leblanc goes full gothic here: a Breton island, an old prophecy about thirty coffins, and poor Véronique walking into horrors long before Lupin strolls in to untangle it all. Much darker and stranger than the usual gentleman-thief romps, so come braced for genuine dread.
- Picture Lupin's cleverness handed to a young circus girl instead: Dorothée runs a rickety caravan with four orphan boys, reads people like playing cards, and chases a two-century-old family riddle stamped on a gold medal. Light, quick, cheerfully improbable, best read when you want fun over depth.
- Lupin's here under a fake name (Don Luis Perenna), untangling an inheritance that keeps killing everyone in line for it, and the clue is literally teeth marks in an apple. Pure pulp, twist stacked on twist, longer and more melodramatic than the short stories.