The Partisan – Fenek Solère

With the approach of the first round of the French presidential election (set to be held on 23rd April 2017), the opportunity presented itself, this month, to review a book highlighting the potential consequences of a poor presidential choice by and for the French.

The Partisan, a fact-based fiction, takes place in a France where the political class has surrendered the future of the Republic to Islamic and third world invasion, as well as to pernicious Jewish influence. Told through the central protagonist of Sabine D’Orlac (aka ‘La Pétroleuse’), the talisman and figurehead for the traditionalist and armed French resistance, The Partisan illustrates the real dangers that Europe could face in the future if the maniacal establishment continues to lead the continent down the path of submission.

Published by Iron Sky Publishing (actually an imprint of the publisher Wermod & Wermod Publishing Group which was set up by a radical traditionalist, The Partisan has already been extensively reviewed by our friends at Counter-Currents Publishing.

Fenek Solère is the book’s author and has previously been in interviews hosted by Alex Kurtagic (founder of the book’s publisher – see above) and Richard Spencer, interviews in which Solère identifies the impetus behind the writing of this debut novel. These discussions clarify Solère’s belief that France could serve as a focal point, or ‘touchstone’, for a ‘clash of civilisations’ in Europe and that, through the use of fiction, ‘one can ‘excite, inspire, and motivate its audience to investigate the very deep intellectual roots of what is referred to as the New Right‘. Essentially then, The Partisan serves as an ‘access-point’ and as a warning.

The story portrays a France on its knees. Mass third world immigration has resulted in the indigenous French becoming minorities in a record number of cities, towns and communes. The government’s only functions are to control the chaos, through strict police enforcement, and to appease the wider Eurabic State by submitting to the whims of its representative (the odious and fanatical Ben Hassi). Rape, violence and murder (the typical symptoms of ‘cultural enrichment’) have become common-place in day-to-day life. Through the means of taxation of the White working and middle classes, and generous government subsidies, migrants are imported from all over the third world and financially incentivised to breed. All of this culminates in the establishing of a veritable Hell on Earth scenario.

Amidst the decaying institutions and downtrodden native populace, there are those who rise up to take on the heavy burden of resistance. Step forth our heroine La Pétroleuse, a bohemian enwrapped in a patriotic shroud who is starkly reminiscent of French film noir in her outward appearance and personal style (in fact, the ‘noir’ aesthetic permeates throughout the book and clashes sharply with the sunlit countryside settings which appear later in the story – the clearest examples of this contrast are demonstrated when one compares the descriptions of Paris to the more rural or seaside towns and villages).

Now I can already hear the disgruntled murmurs and bemoaning belonging to those who believe that, realistically, a woman cannot show the same acts of strength and proclivity for violence as a man. Whilst this may be true for the most part, the choice of a female combatant is contextually relevant; Jeanne D’Arc is a historical figure commonly referenced by French nationalists and Marine Le Pen, a woman, seems to be France’s best and most realistic hope for change as regards the political status quo. Plus La Pétroleuse is trained by an ex-military serviceman and figures as part of a group seemingly mainly made up of men. I hope I have sufficiently pre-empted the MGTOW and ‘women are incubators’ crowds (although there is no placating some people and it is unfortunate that the mere fact that the main character is a female will be enough to put them off reading the book and probably rambling in the comments – happily, they do not make up the majority of AltRighters).

Sabine and her lover, Luc, are part of an underground network which embodies the reactionary French rebel dissidence in the face of overwhelming odds. The members of this movement are generally well-versed in (traditionalist) rightist literature. To form the ideological core of their movement, they take what they consider to be the best elements from all of these political, philosophical and socio-economic perspectives and combine them to form what the book refers to as ‘Integral Traditionalism’. What is interesting here is that Solère painstakingly includes many of these thinkers and writers in The Partisan by naming them and correctly referencing their works and ideas. Nods to these individuals abound; Evola, Guénon, Faye, De Benoist and Nietzsche all figure amongst the heavy sprinkling of recognisable monikers found within the pages of The Partisan. By integrating them into the story, for example by having Luc read a book by one such writer during his lunch, or mention a historical figure in one of his speeches, Solère provides this gateway (or ‘access-point’) to those who are unfamiliar with the traditionalist right; the story itself engages the reader and the references may lead to them picking up a certain text out of curiosity. It is an interesting approach to idea dissemination.

The story ostensibly revolves around the underground’s fight against an oppressive regime hell-bent on demographic replacement under the guises of ‘equality’ and ‘diversity’; a struggle which leads to Sabine’s capture, incarceration and subsequent escape from jail following which, her and Luc are chased relentlessly by the law á la Bonnie and Clyde. Filled with shoot-outs, assassinations and ferocious discourse, The Partisan is a fast-paced, volatile hurricane of sex, violence and patriotism punctuated by the odd moment where the reader can catch his or her breath.

However, I use the word ‘ostensibly’ as the real story is about a woman who is aware that something in France has gone grossly and deeply awry but is only fully redpilled upon meeting Luc, a member of the movement, having left a physically abusive relationship with an ‘artist’. The story of a woman who moves from romance to radicalism by taking a leading role in the resistance is compelling in the way it addresses the woman question; do we try to persuade women that the convictions of the AltRight are the right ones, or do we get on with the job in the hope that they will inevitably jump on board? I know that many articles and blog posts have been written on the subject and it has proved to be a controversial topic especially when the aforementioned hardliners (see above) on the subject get involved.

Whilst we are on the topic of ‘questions’, the JQ is hinted at repeatedly throughout the book primarily through the identities of certain characters that wield influence and power. The Judge ‘Isaac Chelouche’, global media mogul ‘Charles Ackermann’ and hedge fund manager ‘Adva Cohen’ all serve to underline how a certain self-serving group seeks to steer culture and legislation much to the detriment of Western civilisation. The presence of such characters invites the reader to pontificate on who really pulls the strings in our world and what their ultimate objectives really are.

Via a critical view of how political culture in France has changed since 1945, Solère paints a vivid picture of a future that could await France should it continue on its excruciating downward spiral. The Partisan is gory and rarely tender with the few exceptions coming from the displays of affection between Sabine and Luc, and of solidarity between members of the underground resistance.

The book could have been longer; the story is too condensed to enable serious character building the forming of in-depth intricacies for anyone other than Sabine (we only really get a good feel for the personalities of La Pétroleuse and Ben Hassi – the latter is simply due to his one-dimensional, deplorable aspects more than anything else). However, the writer’s main aim was unlikely to be that of creating an emotional tie between reader and individuals within the story; more between the reader and the future of his or her homeland. I believe a trick may have been missed here. Imagine if the pertinent characters in the book who suffer, and (spoiler alert) in several cases die, were our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children, best friends, etc. Building such emotional ties between central characters and the reader by really bringing an array of the former to life could possibly hammer home the message that people need to wake up and act now in order to protect those we love.

Furthermore, as noted in the Counter-Currents review, the book’s proof-reading has been inadequate as some glaring spelling and grammatical errors can be found. For me, this did not detract from the overall reading experience but James J. O’Meara (of Counter-Currents) rightly points out that ‘the idea is to get our message across, not just preach’ and that in order to do this ‘we need to minimize the sorts of thing that convey an impression of intellectual slovenliness to the knowledgeable’.

All in all, however, the book is an excellent read and should be recommended to anybody contemplating a future in which rampant liberalism, enforced ‘progressivism’ and sustained mass-migration are all too evident.

To end, I leave you with the following passage taken from a dialogue that occurs early on in the novel between three senior members of the police force tasked with capturing La Pétroleuse, in which they discuss the resistance movement and the new France:

‘But the world’s moved on!’ said Bruyere.

‘And that’s the issue for them. They think we’ve moved in the wrong direction.’

‘But they can’t turn the clock back!’

‘They don’t want to. They want to take the clock off the wall and re-design the mechanism.’

Fouvier became animated as he walked back with his drink, listening to Bruyere’s and Costello’s banter. He said, ‘France has changed. Some say for the worse. This is not the France I was born into and certainly not the France of my parents. It does not look or even smell the same!’

‘Things change!’ said Bruyere.

‘Yes, one of the Resistance’s gurus, Arthur Moeller van der Bruck, said traditionalists have no ambition to see the world as a museum, their concern is for what is and what will be, Fouvier answered.

‘Sticking it to the world!’ Bruyere shouted.

‘Giving modernity the finger!’ Costello joked.

‘Crazy, can’t be done,’ Bruyere could not be won over.

Costello turned serious for a moment, ‘Is it any more crazy than living in a land where the country side is being deliberately depopulated and the cities filled with foreigners? Jobless itinerants and struggling students compete for low paid jobs and living space in all the overcrowded urban areas?’ He winked. ‘Where undercover cops slip into trendy clothes and infiltrate protest movements? Some even sell hashish openly on the street in the safe knowledge that stage-managed arrests and theatrical beatings are a cover for them to pass on their messages.’

Fouvier slipped back into his seat opposite the bewildered Bruyere and continued the litany with deliberation.

‘Where the universities, the bureaucracy and the media have derided self-reliance, discipline, and patriotic feelings for generations and imported a disabling lifestyle filled with consumerism and narcissism? Where divide and conquer is the objective? Where multiculturalism, sexual liberation, and the welfare bribe can keep people ineffective, decadent, and compliant just long enough so that their self-appointed masters can replace them with immigrants who in turn can take their land and their jobs from right under their noses? It has worked before in other countries, why not here in the heart of Europe?’.

The Partisan is a available to buy from Wermod & Wermod‘s site as well as on Amazon.

Martel Mosley
the authorMartel Mosley
A beleaguered Brit doing all he can (which is never enough).


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