Chronicle of the Reign of Nicholas I, Patrick Rambaud

“Even after achieving his goals, Our Precious Sovereign found no inner peace, for he was constantly plagued by nervous tics. Who ever saw him still and motionless? He moved only by springs. If you delayed him in his progress, you would dismantle the machine. He walked with his shoulders, with a peculiar way of twisting his neck, moving in short jerks as if he were squeezed into a suit that, however, was tailored for him by a renowned Italian artist. (…) When he spoke in public, several times a day, he would puff himself up like a pigeon and perform curious contortions to emphasize his words…” Amused, appalled, dazzled, and annoyed by the passion, love, and attention our new president – our new emperor, one might say – arouses, P.R. Amusé, atterré, ébloui, agacé, Patrick Rambaud embarked on a rather peculiar chronicle: to recount, day by day, the blossoming of this new monarch, based on true facts, but with the wit, humor, and cruelty of Saint-Simon… In this irreverent chronicle, we thus encounter a bustling sovereign, a prim empress who rules over her emperor, a ten-year-old dauphin, powdered and feverish ministers, a tragic Duke of Bordeaux, barons on their knees… Nothing escapes our chronicler’s pen, neither the shorts, nor the revival of the Empire lamp, nor the flattery of the princes, nor the bowing and scraping of the minor marquises… nor, finally, the enamored madness of other, slightly less annoyed chroniclers and portraitists&hellip.