A series of short scenes paints a portrait of a strong-willed and tormented young woman battling many demons, and of the Narrator’s loving and anguished attachment to her. Serre poignantly depicts the bewildering back and forth between hope and despair involved in such a relationship, while playfully calling into question the very form of the novel. Written in the aftermath of the death of the author’s younger sister, A Leopard-Skin Hat is both the celebration of a tragically foreshortened life and a valedictory farewell, written in Anne Serre’s signature style.

A Leopard-Skin Hat was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2025.

The Narrator

The Narrator (though not actually the narrator of the book, in the traditional sense) is a middle-aged man who is a childhood friend of Fanny’s. He deeply cares for her well-being, although he’s also partly afraid of her. He’s seen as her protector, giving in to her every need and always being on call. The Narrator takes Fanny on trips to the countryside and around Europe in the hope that her lust for life will return. He has an immense love of literature and has a partner of 20 years whom he loves dearly. 

Fanny

Fanny is a tormented and complex woman who has an undisclosed mental illness. She finds it difficult to function in everyday life, switching between a fragile and often explosive demeanour. She shows limited interest in her surroundings and cannot lie. She has an extremely close bond with the Narrator as well as her father, both of them helping her to endure life’s challenges.

Born in Bordeaux, Anne Serre is the author of 17 works of fiction. Her first novel, Les Gouvernantes (The Governesses) was published in 1992 and praised by La Croix for its ‘remarkable economy of style’. Among her distinctions are a 2008 Cino del Duca Foundation award and the 2020 Prix Goncourt de la Nouvelle for her short-story collection Au coeur d’un été tout en or. A Leopard-Skin Hat is the fourth of her books to appear in English.

Mark Hutchinson was born in London and lives in Paris. Among his many translations from French are René Char’s Hypnos: Notes from the French Resistance and The Inventors and Other Poems, and Emmanuel Hocquard’s The Library at Trieste and The Gardens of Sallust. His work has appeared in Harper’s Magazine, The Paris Review, The Times Literary Supplement and elsewhere. His translation of René Char‘s The Inventors was one of The Independent’s Best Poetry Books of 2015, and his translation of Anne Serre’s The Governesses was shortlisted for the 2020 Scott Moncrieff prize.

Meghan Racklin, The Brooklyn Rail 

‘The story of Fanny and the Narrator is a story about our impulse to understand one another and about the way in which unknowability is what makes someone interesting; it is about, in fact, the relationship between unknowability and the desire to know, neither existing without the other.’

The Baffler

‘Serre’s primary subject, as always, is narration, and it’s thanks to this obsession that A Leopard-Skin Hat sidesteps memoir, not only by replacing siblings with friends and adopting a male Narrator but by plunging into the volatile spacetime of writing.’ 

Publisher’s Weekly

‘Serre’s novel memorably evokes the slippery nature of Fanny’s character in its snapshot-like structure: rather than a more conventional and chronological arc, the story progresses along the winding routes of the Narrator’s ruminations. Readers will be moved by this probing story about the unknowability of others.’

How would you summarise this book in a sentence to encourage readers to pick it up?  

In short chapters, the Narrator attempts to put into words the teeming life and tragic death of his childhood friend, Fanny. It’s a masterful lesson in how we remember and retell the lives of those bound up with our own, how we sieve and distil memories and fictions of the mind into true feelings.  

Is there something unique about this book, something that you haven’t encountered in fiction before?  

There have been some great novels about friendship, but the duty of care with which one remembers and writes a life really struck us and stayed with us. The book is both a celebration of life and an elegy – holding the fragility of life and death in its hands with the utmost care. With incredible insight, invention and dignity it sensitively captures the open wound with which the death of a loved one leaves us.  

What do you think it is about this book that readers will not only admire, but really love?  

We loved how it experimented with – and expanded – the possibilities of the novel form. Where do we draw the lines between life and fiction? How can we reinvent the contemporary novel form through our reading of it? This novel invites readers to work and to play – what’s not to love about that?   

Can you tell us about any particular characters that readers might connect with, and why?  

Without giving too much away, the book does not feature your classic, typical narrator. We’ll leave you with this to ponder on: ‘A Narrator is just like everyone else, the only difference being that he tells stories; he has none of the extraordinary powers people ascribe to him …’  

Although it’s a work of fiction, is there anything about it that’s especially relevant to issues we’re confronting in today’s world?  

Written in the aftermath of the death of Serre’s sister, this novel attempts to cup the elusive, slippery nature of grief. Although it tackles personal loss and mental illness, there’s a sense in which, with the reader’s engagement, the grief becomes ours. It becomes communal and shared. As we grieve the loss of our collective humanity, this book offers hope and helps us feel less alone in the world.  

Is there one specific moment in the book that has stuck in your mind and, if so, why? 

‘When Fanny was present, the sky was the sky, the earth earth; with one fell blow, her bracing brutality would separate out the elements, restoring objects and people to their rightful places and adjusting the rules of perspective. Perhaps he’ll just have to keep his friend inside him …’ 

Ah! What a pleasure and privilege it is to have someone adjust our perspective, to be able to hold someone inside ourselves. Which of us can truly say that another human being has moved and changed us so deeply and fully? 

‘I wrote the book after the suicide of my younger sister, at the age of 43, with whom I had an intense bond. I wanted to create a memorial to her, one that was as beautiful as possible. My sister died in March, and I see from my notebooks that I finished the book in September. That was because the work had already been done, in a way. All through the preceding years, I had been observing her, talking with her, thinking about her misfortune, and wondering to what extent I was partly responsible for it. The book came pouring out, as if fully formed.’

Read the full interview here.

‘Anne is a close friend of mine, so I read all of her books as they first appear, in French. When I’m translating, I do a quick mot-à-mot of the whole thing, and then work it up from there –the whole book each time, over and over, until I have an accurate English facsimile of the French. Once everything is in place, I do what I call the varnishing – that is, I go back over it as many times as is necessary, sentence by sentence, listening to it as a piece of English, buffing and polishing and gathering up any slack. There are always six or seven sentences in a book which you despair of finding an exact equivalent for; these I usually leave for the end. I forget how long I spent on A Leopard-Skin Hat; about four months, I think. The trickiest part was the description of Fanny’s Ascension in the final chapter.’

Read the full interview here.

A Leopard-Skin Hat features an omniscient third-person perspective that provides a separate viewpoint from that of the Narrator. The omniscient perspective has no identity and often breaks the fourth wall, acknowledging its presence within the story. How did the book’s perspective shifts and the unconventional nature of its structure influence your reading experience?

‘The Narrator said to himself, the idea we form of others comes solely from their relationship with ourselves. Seen through their relationship with someone else, they are necessarily slightly different. And should we catch a glimpse of them in the privacy of their own self (which is impossible without spying on them or rummaging through their papers), they are someone of whom we know strictly nothing’ (Page 36). Do you believe this statement to be correct? Is the book essentially asking: can we truly know another person? And how do you think it answers that question?

The leopard-skin hat that Fanny had stolen and hardly even worn was referenced at the book’s beginning and end. The Narrator said that Fanny was almost like a different woman while wearing the hat, ‘a Fanny B,’ who was jovial and cheerful without any sign of her afflictions. What do you think the hat signifies and why do you think it was chosen as the title of the book?

In the novel, Fanny, as a teenager, has an infatuation with the famous actress Romy Schneider, who also died young. The Narrator said that Fanny’s fascination with the actress might have been because they looked alike and had attributes in common. Learning of the actress’s death, the Narrator notes that Fanny reacted in a way that was almost seen as a personal bereavement. Why do you think she reacted so strongly and created what the Narrator assumes are lies about her relationship with the actress?

It’s unclear throughout the novel who the Narrator was, with only snippets being revealed about his life. It’s stated that ‘he knew so little about himself and more importantly so little about others. He would invent them. Or rather, he would regard them as fictional characters. He had no idea other people could have a heart and a life of their own’ (Page 83). Judging from this quote, how reliable do you think the Narrator’s depiction of Fanny is? Why do you think Serre decided to portray him in such a detached way, rather than as a fully formed character?

It is only revealed towards the end of the book that the Narrator has had a partner for the last twenty years. It’s not indicated whether they are married, and it’s alluded to that they don’t live together. The only information known about the woman is that she has supported the Narrator when dealing with Fanny and that they are very much in love. Why do you think Serre included this section so late in the book, while revealing very limited information about the woman? 

When talking about his friends’ personalities, in comparison to Fanny’s complex personality, the Narrator says, ‘…would I glean as much information, would I discover as many crannies, craters, mountains and landscapes? He thinks of friends he is fond of, and tells himself, no, the whole thing would be wrapped up in ten pages. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s mental illness that transforms you into a landscape’ (Page 113). Would you agree with the last sentence, and that mental illness can make individuals more richly interesting? And what do you think is meant by ‘a landscape’ in this context?

‘The Narrator, who presses his life-affirming love of books onto Fanny, is shocked when, “in Fanny’s case, the more she read, the more she seemed to fall apart. He had no idea such a thing was possible: he hadn’t read about it anywhere.”’ Why do you think Fanny struggled with life the more books she read? Was it the overwhelming nature of the books she was reading, or an effect of not having the emotional capacity to process what she was reading?

The friendship between the author Anne Serre and translator Mark Hutchinson spans over four decades, with Hutchinson having translated Serre’s other works into English. What sort of effect might the author and translator’s friendship have had on the English edition of the Serre’s book, considering that Hutchinson knows her so well, and that the book itself is a deeply personal account of a long friendship?

According to the International Booker judges, ‘this novel attempts to cup the elusive, slippery nature of grief. Although it tackles personal loss and mental illness, there’s a sense in which, with the reader’s engagement, the grief becomes ours. It becomes communal and shared. As we grieve the loss of our collective humanity, this book offers hope and helps us feel less alone in the world.’ To what extent would you agree with the last line of that quote? Is A Leopard-Skin Hat ultimately a hopeful book?  

The Paris Review: Siding with Joy: A Conversation with Anne Serre

The White Review: Interview with Anne Serre

Bomb Magazine: The Unnamable Inspires Me: Anne Serre Interviewed

Asymptote: Fiction as Seduction: An Interview with Anne Serre

Minor Literatures: An Interview with Anne Serre: “The importance of literature in my life? It is my life.” — Tobias Ryan

What I’d Rather Not Think About by Jente Posthuma, translated by Sarah Timmer Harvey

Held by Anne Michaels

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara