Monsieur: Ripley
In Ripley’s Game , a local art framer, Jonathan Trevanny, insults Tom at a party. Tom does not explode in rage. He waits. He methodically engineers a situation where Jonathan is framed for a mob hit, forcing the innocent man to become a killer to save his family. Tom then befriends Jonathan, becoming a paternalistic mentor in murder.
For forty years, Tom Ripley killed, lied, and thrived across five novels. He was never caught. Not because he was lucky, but because he learned to become Monsieur . And society loves a gentleman. This article is dedicated to the memory of Patricia Highsmith, who knew that the devil doesn’t wear Prada—he wears a custom-tailored suit from Charvet, and he lives two towns over. monsieur ripley
Unlike the chaotic streets of 1950s New York or the expat beaches of Mongibello, the French countryside offers Ripley a shield. The local gendarmes do not bother the wealthy Monsieur who pays his taxes on time. Highsmith uses the French setting to ask a profound question: If evil is quiet, well-mannered, and socially useful, is it still evil? It is important to distinguish Monsieur Ripley from his cinematic counterparts. While Minghella’s film is a masterpiece of tragic longing, it ends with Tom still yearning, still alone, staring at a ring in the dark. In Ripley’s Game , a local art framer,
More recently, the 2024 Netflix series Ripley , directed by Steven Zaillian and starring Andrew Scott, comes closest to capturing the literary Monsieur . Shot in stark black and white, Zaillian’s Ripley is not a talented mimic—he is a patient spider. There is no warmth, no romance. There is only the relentless, quiet pursuit of a chair at a quiet French table. Tom Ripley remains one of the few literary serial killers who does not live in a dungeon. He lives in a sunlit villa. He is the nightmare of the polite neighbor. Patricia Highsmith understood that the most terrifying predator is not the one who lurks in the alley, but the one who invites you to dinner, refills your wine glass, and remembers your wife’s name. He methodically engineers a situation where Jonathan is
The true Monsieur Ripley appears most fully in René Clément’s 1960 French-Italian adaptation, Purple Noon ( Plein Soleil ), starring Alain Delon. Here, Delon’s Ripley is cold, beautiful, and utterly French in his aesthetic cruelty. He is not pitiable. He is enviable.
For most of the world, the name “Tom Ripley” conjures the sun-drenched, morally ambiguous charm of Anthony Minghella’s 1999 film The Talented Mr. Ripley . We remember Matt Damon’s anxious sweat, Jude Law’s golden arrogance, and the unforgettable image of a jazz club in Venice. But for readers of Patricia Highsmith’s original “Ripliad,” there is a different, more disturbing apex to the character’s arc. It is not found in the debut novel, but in its 1964 sequel: The Boy Who Followed Ripley .
Monsieur Ripley is a warning wrapped in a linen jacket. He tells us that talent, charm, and taste are not virtues. They are weapons. And in the right hands—steady, unfeeling, French-cuffed hands—they are enough to get away with murder.