Messieurs les ronds-de-cuir

In the suffocating halls of the Dons et Legs office, French bureaucracy reaches its glorious apotheosis. Georges Courteline's masterpiece follows a cast of clerks whose lives are consumed by stamping papers, attending pointless meetings, and guarding their tiny territorial empires within the ministry. Over the course of a few days, we witness the absurd rituals of office life: the endless circulation of files that need "action" but serve no purpose, the complex hierarchies based on seniority rather than competence, the sacred importance given to procedures that produce nothing but more procedures. Courteline's wit cuts through the pretensions of these men who have made stagnation into an art form. The novel derives its title from the leather cushioned chairs that symbolized bureaucratic status, those who occupy them have achieved nothing but the ability to sit. This fierce comedy endures because its portrait of institutional futility remains startlingly contemporary. Anyone who has ever inhabited an office, submitted to a form, or waited for a response from the state will recognize the world Courteline skewers with merciless precision.