Story centers around the aspirations and dreams of Madame Emma Bovary. From her readings of romantic novels at a younger age, she has built up an impoStory centers around the aspirations and dreams of Madame Emma Bovary. From her readings of romantic novels at a younger age, she has built up an impossible castle of dreams and expectations for her own life. The literary devices are pretty cool, with subtle shifts in narration and inner monologue from one character to the other. Madame Bovary and Homais (the pharmacist) seem to be flip sides of the same coin. Vain, ambitious, petty, willing to deceive in order to attain their selfish desires. Their vulgarity is paralleled; for one the vulgarity is a type of twisted ideal of romanticism, for the other a twisted ideal of rationalism. Their dual vulgarity and blind ambition culminates in the destruction of an innocent man (which is a really great and heart-breaking scene).
Most of the characters are unlikeable, but often can’t help but feel sorry for most of them (including Madame Bovary who often laments the cage in which women must live). The book is rich in irony and paradox. Monsieur Bovary being an insipid, uninspired vessel of flesh, and yet… (won’t spoil the end). Emma is the dreamer without depth or substance, Charles is a basic dude without dreams. What a match. This book isn’t really realistic per se, but the descriptions and naturalism are lovingly rendered. The insipidity of the characters is often brought to life in a great way.
Not a ton of metaphors in this book, but when Flaubert uses them he makes them count.
I liked this one: “...mais la syncope de Justin durait encore, et ses prunelles disparaissaient dans leur sclérotique påle, comme des fleurs bleues dans du lait.” (but Justin’s fainting spell continued, and his pupils disappeared in their pale scleroticism, like blue flowers in milk) I just loved that image so much!
Another with disappearing eyes, and it’s a repeated use of spider symbolism in relation to Emma: “...et ses yeux commençaient à disparaître dans une pâleur visqueuse qui ressemblait à une toile mince, comme si des araignées avaient filé dessus.” (and her eyes began to disappear in a viscous pallor that resembled a thin web, as if spiders had spun over them)
Blue/azure is a recurring color throughout the book, often accenting important scenes, moments, objects. Also watch for “Chekhov’s gun” ;)
I imagine there is some sort of critique of the bourgeoisie, but seems more to be a critique of a state of mind, “basicness” and “vulgarity,” so critique of a bourgeois/and or basic mindset more so than a critique of the social class itself.
Flaubert uses a lot of semi-colons. Used to layer details. Kind of weirdly particular. But it works....more
In the first part of the book, Marcel falls in love with Gilbertine. We witness both the highly romanticiAnd in this volume Marcel discovers… “women.”
In the first part of the book, Marcel falls in love with Gilbertine. We witness both the highly romanticized language and obsessive imaginings of the main character, which ultimately contrasts with his insanely petty jealousy and immature actions towards the “object” of his love.
He ends up going to the seaside town of Balbec, where he meets a range of characters that are encapsulated in this little world. His obsession is allowed to flower in new directions, but again is free-flowing. Now it is Albertine and Andrée who become entangled in his mind’s eye.
He befriends an aristocrat by the name of Robert Saint-Loup. He is an intellectual, a leftist, a bit “plus royaliste que le roi,” ie he seems to have such angst and guilt about his class and money that he takes on an overly ardent leftism as penance for his privileges.
The writing is wonderful, the obsessive descriptions and exploration of minutiae is impressive yet never boring. The world-building is something else. And the whole treatise is incredibly philosophical. It’s funny, but reading Proust brings back a lot of memories in my own life. That’s probably the most interesting part of Proust is that he is so sensitive, obsessive, and observant that it makes you take a new look at things in your own life, puts a mirror to things and draws out memories from your own well.
One thing that is sometimes hard to connect with are his romanticized notions, which can be both incredibly refined but also incredibly immature. Weird paradox. I have no doubt he was a tortured individual, having mastery over observation of this world but constantly living in an emotional maelstrom often of his own making.
Question: Albertine and Gilbertine are not common names for girls in France (even at that time). Ciphers for Albert and Gilbert?
This is hilarious, came across it in some random googling. It contrasts in such a funny way with all his romanticized musings around love and sex: http://www.openculture.com/2013/11/16...
"The author of Remembrance of Things Past once suffered, according to Letters of Note, from an obsession with masturbation. "As a teenager this caused problems for his family, not least his father, a professor of hygiene, who like many of the day believed that such a worrying habit could cause homosexuality if left unchecked." Given 10 francs by Proust père, Marcel went off to the neighborhood brothel to, in theory, get himself set straight. And the outcome of this "cure"? We defer to the sixteen-year-old Proust himself, who in the letter (below) tells the whole sordid story to his grandfather:
18 May 1888 Thursday evening.
My dear little grandfather, I appeal to your kindness for the sum of 13 francs that I wished to ask Mr. Nathan for, but which Mama prefers I request from you. Here is why. I so needed to see if a woman could stop my awful masturbation habit that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a brothel. But first, in my agitation, I broke a chamber pot: 3 francs; then, still agitated, I was unable to screw. So here I am, back to square one, waiting more and more as hours pass for 10 francs to relieve myself, plus 3 francs for the pot. But I dare not ask Papa for more money so soon and so I hoped you could come to my aid in a circumstance which, as you know, is not merely exceptional but also unique. It cannot happen twice in one lifetime that a person is too flustered to screw.
I kiss you a thousand times and dare to thank you in advance.
I will be home tomorrow morning at 11am. If you are moved by my situation and can answer my prayers, I will hopefully find you with the amount. Regardless, thank you for your decision which I know will come from a place of friendship."...more
With confinement (COVID 2020), it’s been a good time for me to exhume some long idling books in my collection. And so I stumble upon the ChateaubriandWith confinement (COVID 2020), it’s been a good time for me to exhume some long idling books in my collection. And so I stumble upon the Chateaubriand tomes that have been sitting on the shelf for years. About 15 years ago I read Tome II (only one I owned at the time). I didn’t remember much about it, but since I now had the others I figured ok let’s hit up volume III and see what’s up with this Frenchie (in hindsight this was a mistake).
In Chateaubriand’s memoirs a lot of stuff happens, but it’s honestly boring AF. Endless minutiae involving diplomacy (he was a diplomat for large portions of his public career), so many namedrops I can’t see straight. Tons of backstabbing BS between aristocrats (kind of fun but wears after a while). Intermittently we get some fun melancholic tangents where Chateaubriand waxes eloquent about the awfulness of life (yay!). But serious, those are the best written parts. Life is @#%# up and we can all relate to that.
It’s funny to compare with Proust (who I do think was influenced by Chateaubriand in certain respects), with Proust very little happens but it is way more fascinating. Somehow Proust makes the analysis of paint drying interesting.
The most interesting part in this Chateaubriand volume was the final 50 pages involving the downfall of Charles X. People are backstabbers. Hearing tales of their petty villainy kind of amusing.
Chateaubriand's political views are confusing. A mix of royalist and republican, often confused, he takes on what to me seem like extraordinarily dissonant positions. At heart I think he was a republican who was struggling to transcend the yoke of his class acculturation.
As I alluded to in first paragraph, mistake I made is I prob should’ve read Tome I. Reading up on Chateaubriand, consensus seems to be that is the most interesting volume: involves C’s exile, French revolution, his voyage to the US, fake meeting with Washington, soldiering, etc. I may hit that volume up eventually out of curiosity. But for now am tapped out on this guy. Recommend this volume only for hardcore Frenchyphiles (with a mild sadomasochistic streak)....more
“Je dis seulement qu’il y’a sur cette terre des fléaux et des victimes et qu’il faut, autant qu’il est possible, refuser d'être avec le fléau… C’est p“Je dis seulement qu’il y’a sur cette terre des fléaux et des victimes et qu’il faut, autant qu’il est possible, refuser d'être avec le fléau… C’est pourquoi j’ai décidé de me mettre du côté des victimes, en toute occasion, pour limiter les dégâts. Au milieu d’elles, je peux du moins chercher comment on arrive à la troisième catégorie, c’est-à-dire à la paix.”
Probably my single favorite quote from the book. Basically, don’t be a #$@, try to do the least damage possible that you possibly can in this world. Do not be with the scourge, fight the scourge. And maybe through this fight, and through kindness, we can find peace.
This book can be read on multiple levels. How humans deal with a plague, allegory regarding German occupation of France (WWII), and a larger more general portrait of how humans confront and deal with the terror and suffering of life.
One of the more interesting characters is Tarrou. The story showcases his journals, and we learn of his background with his talks with the main character Dr Bernard Rieux. An intriguing passage has Tarrou explaining why he turned away from his father, a judge. His father, while seemingly a kind man, has his son come to see him court where he condemns another human to death (in a rather cold and matter of fact way). Tarrou sees that his father functions as just another cog in the machine of death, functioning as “a scourge,” operating and executing horror through the human “justice” system. Tarrou decides to run away. He wants to create a better world, but becomes ensorcelled within ideologies, ideologies with great ideals and dreams (?), but ideologies that nevertheless demand sacrifice and killing of other men. Ie, you must kill a little for the good of all, in order to supposedly deliver a better world for everyone. But Tarrou becomes horrified by this thinking, realizing it is merely creating another machine of death. Because in killing we also now become “the scourge,” exactly what Tarrou was trying to escape when he decided to run away and not follow in his father’s footsteps. I guess the awful truth is as humans we create different machines of death, whether it is through one ideology or another, we often find a way...
The style of the book is straightforward, elegant, simple. But the underlying philosophy and machinery of the thinking is more complex. A treatise on how humans must negotiate their existence against the horrors of this world, the never-ending plague that continually simmers within and around us. There are different answers in how to live, love and or living with the greatest amount of peace and decency we can, trying to minimize the suffering in this world… everyone finds their own path.
But if you read this straight up, just on the surface it’s amazing how many things Camus gets right about the human response to plague. When one compares to COVID 2020, you see the same agitators who rebel against gov orders, hoarding, the exacerbation of inequality (p214, death is an equalizer but the rich can get anything they want while the poor suffer even more, lack of food etc), bureaucratic incompetency, the awfulness of people but also the greatness of people…
Just couldn't get through this one. I kept waiting for the story to get going, but it felt like a series of endless digressions on wind, rockDNF/pg470
Just couldn't get through this one. I kept waiting for the story to get going, but it felt like a series of endless digressions on wind, rock, sea, etc. Sure seashells can be interesting but 10 pages on them starts feeling like a hammer to one's head. Now I do love Victor Hugo and am aware he is prone to digressions in his writing, but this story is shipwrecked in an endless ocean of details that got to be way too grating for me.
The characters themselves are great, centering around Gilliat the noble-hearted fisherman. Hugo is a humanist with a large heart, his writing shows that, he has huge respect for people from every background. And he is immensely curious, as the book can testify to his insatiable interest in the minutiae of this world, you get massive insights into the world of Guernesey and its cultures and natural qualities. He also touches on themes of man vs nature which are actually interesting, but this book is an endless anfractuosity (learned that word from this book so I use it here!), and it lost me.
Awesome read. Interesting narrative structure constantly alternating between a set of 23 different characters. Unique quest plot with different characAwesome read. Interesting narrative structure constantly alternating between a set of 23 different characters. Unique quest plot with different characters as metaphors for how we go thru life, find purpose, etc. Strong philosophical elements, existential questions.
I don't understand how this has yet to be translated into English. Pretty sure it would find a good amount of interest....more
Going into this book I was not sure what to expect. I hadn’t read an older classic in some time, and was leery that it might prove boring and overly, Going into this book I was not sure what to expect. I hadn’t read an older classic in some time, and was leery that it might prove boring and overly, well... sentimental. But it wasn't boring, at least for me. Really got into this one, loved it in fact. But you have to be down for a lot of emotional musings (and willing to put up with the constant desire to punch the main character in the face).
The main character, a youth by the name of Frederic Moreau, is an absolutely frustrating character with overwrought emotions and selfish to the bone, but that’s the point. The dynamic of relationships and his inability to transcend his personal limitations is fantastically executed. While he is a product of his time, given his money and societal position he has the luxury to jack around all day, I do think there are parallels to contemporary society and problems we face: namely young people facing the existential dilemma of lack of purpose. So in this way, I do think many contemporary readers could connect with the problems of Frederic.
Trying to counter his listless existence, Frederic forms a fixation on Mme Arnoux, akin to idolatry. This love interest becomes his whole life’s purpose. He tries to give this love a magical ethereal sheen, but I saw this love as paper thin and a mask for his life’s much deeper problems and lack of fulfillment. Today, a lost youth can get ensorcelled by extremist movements (and in the book, many of Frederic’s friends do, because like him many of them are lost in their own ways and trying to fill the void). But for Frederic the path is this totemic idealization of a woman. Frederic is so obsessed, his inability to find inner peace pushes him to chase after this idealized external source like a mad dog, believing that realizing this love will finally grant him happiness.
Frederic inhabits the world of French high society. The book presents a harsh view of this world and its denizens, who come across as soulless and petty (which I don’t doubt is relatively accurate!). So many of the characters and people Frederic associates with are vipers, each with their own designs and manipulative tactics. Petty schemers, willing to opportunistically cloak themselves in whatever politics will best suit their momentary interests. Willing to backstab their friends the minute it can serve their agenda. Frederic does this as well. I can’t help but feel Flaubert had a pessimistic view of the world and people in general. Nevertheless I found myself rooting for Frederic throughout, hoping he’d find a way to transcend his personal limitations.
Many of the characters are searching for two things, love and money, sometimes wanting the latter as a means to achieve the former. There are times when some of the characters, even Frederic, attain a type of honest decency when they are showing their true emotions in their search for a companion. But in the end, I found most of the characters, including Frederic, to be highly unlikeable. (guy needed a good kick in the ass to set him straight!)
The historical aspects are nicely woven into the story and feature some amount of internal French politics of the time. It’s not too heavy and works well as a window into this particular time and place in French history and society.
It’s funny, because I can’t help but think of this novel as very “French,” especially regarding how it treats emotions and the minutiae of romantic feelings. The obsessiveness can strike one as silly and ridiculous, and I think a lot of readers might find it off putting because the obsessiveness can read as bizarre and archaic. But it worked for me because the problems faced by the characters are the same problems many face today: how to find meaning in this world, especially when the backbone of what holds society together (gov, religion, community, etc) has broken down or is constantly shifting beneath our feet (19th century France being turbulent times, but our own as well). And in this turbulence individuals find various refuges in what I'd call "false gods," whether it be ideologies regarding art (Pellerin in this book), politics (most of the characters in this book), idolatrous love (Frederic), etc... and tragically subsume our identity into these ideological cul-de-sacs where we end up asphyxiating our spirit....more
What an amazing novel. Beautifully crafted, I love the narrative, with the characters standing in as avatars for ideas, and interplay with symmetry anWhat an amazing novel. Beautifully crafted, I love the narrative, with the characters standing in as avatars for ideas, and interplay with symmetry and contrasts between the various characters and ideas. Easy to mess up such a dynamic by rendering it too simplistically, but I think Hugo infuses a great level of nuance and subtlety to the enterprise helping ensure his novel doesn’t turn into a 1-dimensional parody.
Personally I love the stylization of the writing, lyrical and poetic, and so much fantastic imagery (really this part is just awesome!). Sometimes the 19th century novel goes a bit bonkers with meandering descriptions of geography, place, customs, objects. This can be kind of obnoxious, but this book only has a few such moments and I really don’t mind as the quality of the writing and story are too good. But these meanderings in the 19th century novel are just one of those things I try to buttress myself against, I usually don’t mind so much but sometimes it is an avalanche of words that doesn’t advance plot or character (at least doesn't seem to in my eyes) and try as I might it can break my patience. Like I said though, this book only has a few such moments, and usually when this is happening it involves a broader metaphor that seems to make sense for developing the story and message of the book.
This story takes place with the historical backdrop of the French Revolution year 1793, as the Terror is getting under way. It pits two opposing forces, revolutionary and reactionary. Progressive vs traditional. Duality is featured throughout the book. And yet there is nuance to the political analysis and views. And the historical background was very interesting and informative for me (some of the interesting alliances including reactionary alliance between nobles-rural poor/paysans-catholic elements vs revolutionaries emanating from various segments of city society. Of course this wasn't all cut and dry, but there were interesting linkages going on, and internecine struggles for supremacy between the subgroups on each side). The story seems to capture an essence of the times, intertwining legend with history and in doing so approaching a kind of truth that can be hard for one or the other to achieve on its own. This seems to be a theme with Hugo, or at least a manifestation of his philosophy, by combining legend (story) with history we can approach a greater truth. But this is the first book of his I’ve read so I can’t make a strong statement on that, just a guess and intuition.
Hugo strikes me as a humanist who likely had deep sympathies for progressive ideals but he also fairly represents how high ideals can lead to the greatest crimes, with idealists leveraging the excuse of noble ends to justify execrable means. Sidestepping accountability and responsibility because one’s ideals are so noble and just. This critique is applied to both reactionaries and revolutionaries in this story as we see various characters in both camps guilty of this, some of whom stoop to the lowest basest most cynical self-serving justifications for their commitment of crimes against their fellow man. But there is nuance and subtlety, both in the writing and also the representation of the characters. Some characters are presented in a more favorable light than others, but never as pure black or white entities. The moral dilemmas the characters face are great, each individual is anchored by their various strain of idealism. These ideals get smashed and tested against the vortex of reality with crosscurrents tugging the individuals this way and that, each struggle further revealing inner character and nuance of each person...
I would recommend this book for two reasons: first off the magnificent quality of the writing and storytelling. 2ndly the fascinating historical backdrop and information in this book that seems to capture the essence and complexities of this particular historical period. And I could add a 3rd: experiencing Hugo and his sublime sensibility and ideas.
Cannot wait to read more. I’m thinking Les Mis, this will be a grand project, maybe later in the year I’ll try it out. I can’t read as fast in French or with quite as high a comprehension level as in English (but it is a fun challenge), so it will be a doubly huge undertaking if I end up going for it! But I think I’m falling in love with Hugo’s style. It is ornamented a certain way, grand and architectured to a high degree, so certainly not for everyone (I'm guessing he might be one of those love it or hate it kind of writers for people), but it appeals to me and my tastes!
Quote: "L'homme peut, comme le ciel, avoir une sérénité noire; il suffit que quelque chose fasse en lui la nuit. La prêtrise avait fait la nuit dans Cimourdain. Qui a été prêtre l'est. Ce qui fait la nuit en nous peut laisser en nous les étoiles. Cimourdain était plein de vertus et de vérités, mais qui brillaient dans les ténèbres."...more
Incredible read. Yourcenar writes from the 1st person inside the mind of 2nd century Roman emperor Hadrian. We are in the driver's seat of his mind, sIncredible read. Yourcenar writes from the 1st person inside the mind of 2nd century Roman emperor Hadrian. We are in the driver's seat of his mind, seeing his thoughts and experiencing the 2nd century Roman world through his eyes.
Yourcenar explores the man with subtlety and nuance, exposing a deep and interesting psychological portrait, all the little details add up to create an amazingly intimate experience connecting the reader to this emperor. Of course there is a lot of speculation and artistic license, but she did a lot of research for this (far as I can tell), and merely as an artistic endeavor (regardless of historical aspects) this book is a phenomenal accomplishment. The psychological explorations are fantastic and her interpretation of how Hadrian may have seen and experienced the world is both believable and interesting, she inhabits this man. This aspect is a totemic achievement in regards to artistry and degree of difficulty, if you had told me this book was written by him I'd be like "Cool! sounds legit to me! amazing this guy's memoirs made it all the way down to us given that we have like less than 1% of the writings from that era surviving to our times" (although tbh, I don't think Hadrian would have been such a good writer, there is such a 20th century elite intellectual writer quality to this so there are a few tells that might have given it away hehe. The exploring and writing about emotions, personal psychology, intimate details strikes me as a much more modern phenomenon, at least on average because I'm sure there are exceptions. Don't quote me on that though that is just my sense of things as a lay person without deep grounding in literary history). But whether it is accurate and true to life in a way doesn't matter to me, it was a vehicle to bring us a psychological exploration of a man with great power and influence and also this device served as a vessel to explore and travel the 2nd century Roman world. In this she succeeds.
There is a lot of contemplation, philosophical meanderings that Hadrian explores. I enjoyed this a lot. Others might find it annoying, but to me it added to the portrait and felt incredibly real and believable.
I was particularly struck by how she imagined Hadrian dealing with chronic illness/health issues. I honestly have to suspect Yourcenar went through some of her own serious health issues, because her understanding of this issue, and her exploration of human psychology under health duress is so on point and captures the smallest and most intimate truths of these experiences. I have a hard time imagining someone who hasn't experienced these truths would be able to capture and explore them with this level of understanding. Anyways, I loved those sections.
Her notes at the end of the book are great too, loved reading about her process and experience in writing and researching this book. It's always interesting to learn about a creator's methodology, process, experience in the creation of their work. I found particularly incisive her comments about the pitfalls of trying to write and "know" another human being. It is an impossible task. Neither can one TRULY know oneself (I concede there are degrees). But as she explains she couldn't recreate a "true" autobiography of herself either, it would be just as difficult as writing this work on Hadrian. But that is part of the fun of such an experiment as this, it is imagination, conjecture, exploration of the human spirit projected from the prism of one's own experience, time, culture, psychology, feelings, etc. I also liked her point that there will always be this gulf in both one's ability to understand oneself and ability to understand others; they are similar phenomenons. Along the lines of understanding others she uses the example that her father is just as unknown to her as Hadrian is, even though 18 centuries separate these two people. It was a point that struck me:
"Tout nous échappe, et tous, et nous-mêmes. La vie de mon père m’est plus inconnue que celle d’Hadrien. Ma propre existence, si j’avais à l’écrire, serait reconstituée par moi du dehors, péniblement, comme celle d’un autre. J’aurais à m’adresser à des lettres, aux souvenirs d’autrui, pour fixer ces flottantes mémoires. Ce ne sont jamais que des murs écroulés, des pans d’ombres. » Et ailleurs, parlant de son père : « Je ne suis pas plus Michel que je ne suis Zénon ou Hadrien. Comme tout romancier, j’ai essayé de le reconstituer à partir de ma substance, mais c’est une substance indifférenciée."...more
In an odd way sort of a quiet mystery book. Mixing happenstance and some methodological police procedure, things eventually come together.
Not my favoIn an odd way sort of a quiet mystery book. Mixing happenstance and some methodological police procedure, things eventually come together.
Not my favorite read, was curious to see how things turned out but not much suspense or intrigue. One side note, if you are learning or working on your French these are good books to read; well-written and direct, the writing is not overly ornamented....more
It's surprisingly readable, I love Proust’s voice, his sensibility, and the poetic nature of the memories. He is a keen (!!!!) observerReread/May 2020
It's surprisingly readable, I love Proust’s voice, his sensibility, and the poetic nature of the memories. He is a keen (!!!!) observer and amazing at world-building, you sink into the memories and the writing. You can almost touch and feel these memories, these places he writes about… and everything flows together, a sinuous imperceptible flow from one scene to the next.
Now I can see why people wouldn't like Proust but it's always a question of taste and what you look for in the media you consume. But I actually find Proust more accessible than a lot of other "fancy" writers (whatever that means but you know what I mean). Maybe the length of the work, and the languid nature of memory and how he presents may be off-putting to some. People might also not like the belle-epoque aristocracy who are admittedly (for the most part) highly obnoxious. Petty, jealous, obsessed with social-climbing, endlessly judgmental, psychotically obsessed with social punctilios, etc. But I do enjoy Proust's sensibility, and he does provide some insightful deconstruction (read vicious evisceration) of this belle epoque aristocracy.
He does open with what feels like 50 pages talking about how upset he gets that his mom won’t give him a goodnight kiss. That... might put off a few readers. Personally I find that whole section is rather sweet and vulnerable, and even wonder if maybe it’s kind of badass admitting to the world how much of a massive momma’s boy you really are (takes some guts imo haha!). He’s so damn precocious, so vulnerable, so obsessive in observation and in infatuation.
The love in this book so often has the feeling of poison, with characters being poisoned and getting sick with it left and right (which maybe it is not love if it operates like a poison no? more a toxic type of jealous possessiveness around the object of desire and or a tortured romanticism with idolatry at its core which is not love to me but a twisted and rather self-absorbed deviation. Basically there’s a lot of #%@%’d up people in this book). But at the core, one senses a yawning emptiness in so many of these people, and this maddening drive for love is centered around lack of purpose and an unrelenting need for some concrete meaning in this world, something to anchor the mind around...
Anyhow, my guess is a lot of people who don't like the work either don't connect with the style, or don’t relate or like the privileged characters. Or they may find the languid nature of the memories too boring. All perfectly valid sure. But Proust is an introvert (big-time), so that might be a relatable point for a lot of people. I do think things get more interesting the further along you get in this tome, so don’t let the author’s seemingly eternal lamentations about a goodnight kiss from mom put you off!...more
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