Winner of the 2004 Prix de Flore

"History follows a trail of sputtering desire, often calling upon the delusions of lovers to generate the sparks. If it weren't for us, the world would suffer from a dismal lack of stories," writes Bruce Benderson in this brutally candid memoir.

"What astonishes and intrigues is Benderson's way of recounting, in the sweetest possible voice, things that are considered shocking," wrote Le Monde. What's so shocking? It's not just Benderson's job translating Céline Dion's saccharine autobiography, which he admits is driving him mad; but his unrequited love for an impoverished Romanian in "cheap club-kid platforms with dollar signs in his squinting eyes," whom he meets while on a journalism assignment in Eastern Europe.

Rather than retreat, Benderson absorbs everything he can about Romanian culture and discovers an uncanny similarity between his own obsession for the Romanian (named Romulus) and the disastrous love affair of King Carol II, the last king of Romania (1893-1953). Throughout, Benderson — "absolutely free of bitterness, nastiness, or any desire to protect himself," wrote Le Monde — is sustained by little white codeine pills, a poetic self-awareness, a sense of humor, and an unwavering belief in the perfect romance, even as wild dogs chase him down Romanian streets.

"Benderson was wandering Budapest researching sex clubs for Nerve. com when he fell in love. Romulus, a Romanian street hustler, was a sleekly attractive, uneducated (though clever) 24-year old (significantly younger than Benderson), into soccer, TV and swapping dirty stories with his buddies. Living in a largely homophobic culture, Romulus didn't consider himself anything but heterosexual, even as he spent months having sex with Benderson. As Benderson (author of two novels, including User, as well as some nonfiction) slid into an obsession with Romulus, he started reading about Romanians whose lives and loves seemed curiously tangential: the artist Brancusi; the novelist Istrati; the lascivious King Carol II and his Jewish lover, Lupescu. Sometimes, Benderson and Romulus drove around the Romanian countryside, exploring villages mired between pastoral paganism and socialist realism. Weaving storytelling and seduction, Benderson's tale has a deliciously Arabian Nights flavor. His descriptions — the fat Ukrainian bartender with 'fast, greedy fingers' and 'predatory' hospitality — render scenes so three-dimensional, readers will be checking for their wallets. While some may be derailed by the unsafe sex and Benderson's back-to-the-closet erotics, anyone — gay or straight — who's able to read a painfully honest account of an obsessive love affair without feeling they need to judge the author will be rewarded. This Prix de Flore winner could be Benderson's American breakthrough book." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

"Benderson, if he really is the man he describes in this autobiographical account of lust and obsession, is a mass of self-absorbed contradictions that he peels away layer by layer, never seeming to reach a solid core beneath." New York Times

"Benderson weaves a startlingly beautiful tapestry...all supported by the central thread, the analysis of a relationship." Library Journal

"Repetitive, smarmy and self-satisfied. Slumming never seemed quite so bourgeois." Kirkus Reviews

The first American to win the Prix de Flore--one of France's most distinguished literary prizes--presents a wildly romantic, true-life love story sustained by little white codeine pills, a poetic self-awareness, and an unwavering belief in the perfect romance.

Bruce Benderson is the first American to receive the Prix de Flore. He is the author of two works of fiction, User and Pretending to Say No, and several works of nonfiction, including Toward the New Degeneracy. He is a translator of French literature who has worked as a journalist for numerous American and French publications, including The New York Times Magazine and Libération.