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In 1998, I was one of the judges of the Prix Novembre, in Paris: a prize given, as its name implies, late in the literary season. After the Goncourt had got it wrong, and after stumblebum efforts by other prizes to correct the Goncourt's errors, the Prix Novembre would issue a final, authoritative verdict on the year. It was unusual for a French prize in having a (slowly) rotating jury, foreign judges--Mario Vargas Llosa was also there--and serious money attached: about thirty thousand dollars for the winner.
That year, the major prizes had all failed to honor Michel Houellebecq's "Les Particules Elementaires," and for months le cas Houellebecq had been ...