La Petite Gamberge | Robert Giraud (Note: This appears to be the title of a book or a literary work in French.)

They will be five then! Like the Thursdays of THE week or the Marquise's hours, five who stick together like grapes around their sticky table at La Bonne Treille, a haunt on the mountain of Sainte-Geneviève that serves as their rock for mussels, headquarters, and watering hole. So, let me list them: first, there's Bouboule, the thinker of the gang, the brainiac of the quintet, then there's La Tenaille, a sprightly youth, followed by La Douleur, a truck driver, then the Manchot, shadowed by his nickname, and lastly, Robert, also known as Robert. A fine crew that does honor to the establishment, sharp characters, highly skilled in deceit and devilishly cunning. After a brilliant heist on the banks of the Seine, a retirement-worthy job, Robert gets caught, creating panic among the bigwigs who scramble around, especially since Pierrot has married a crook and La Douleur is playing the obliging driver with the flea market folks. Who did what? Who should pay? A dark and masculine story, where the streets are not the only things on a downhill. Published by Denoël in 1961, the second novel by Robert Giraud, a man from Limoges, this "Petite Gamberge" is less about the plot that supports it, and more about the flamboyant poetic Virginia creeper that unfolds in the book, a ivy of words that closely encircles the mystery of Paris - with Giraud, Paris is sniffed, scrutinized, savored, gulped down in long draughts, lights, fragrances, rhythms, silhouettes, everything becomes a strand in this urban herbarium close to the wanderings of a Yonnet, a Fargue, or a Calet. So, put on sturdy shoes, the Parisian peasant has a long stride and a long-haul reverie. For those in need of a guide, Olivier Bailly, the impeccable foreword writer, has mapped out the route and subtitled the street signs, so no excuses!