Did She Fall Or Was She Pushed? Dangerous Liaisons Readalong 2024

[BishyBarnyBee]

Following a series of successful Fallen Women readalongs - War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, Ruth - we continue our exploration of desire, hypocrisy, disgrace and redemption with the earlier (and even more scandalous) Dangerous Liaisons.

Widely adapted in text, film, opera and even ballet, Les Liaisons Dangereuses is an epistolatory novel comprising 175 letters.

Author Chodelos de Laclos "resolved to write a book that would be quite outside the ordinary trend, which would make a sensation and echo over the world after I left it." His book was a succès de scandale on its 1782 publication, reviewed as "diabolique" while becoming an instant bestseller. Marie Antoinette commissioned a blank cover copy for her library, and Virginia Woolf later read it with "great delight".

Readalongs are Mumsnet's best kept secret - a quiet corner of the site where we tackle the books we might not manage alone, sharing our thoughts and reactions, and encouraging each other to keep going when life - or the book - are challenging. It's fine to dip in and out as life permits, very few of us manage to keep up consistently.

We've only heard good things about DL, so do join us for a cracking good read. We start 1st May, 1 letter a day:

1 - 31 May Letters 1 - 31
1 - 30 June Letters 32 - 61
1 - 31 July Letters 62 - 92
1 - 31 August Letters 93 - 123
1- 30 September 124 - 153
1 - 22nd October 154 - 175

There are summaries of each letter at shmoop.com. I'll post them when I can, but anyone is welcome to start us off if you are first here on the day.

Looking forward to it!

Les Liaisons dangereuses (Dangerous Liaisons) Summary

Free summary and analysis of the events in Pierre Ambroise François Choderlos de Laclos's Les Liaisons dangereus...

I'm looking forward to it @BishyBarnyBee ! Thank you for setting it up.

I did like the preface, thought it was a bit of a reverse boast but nicely tongue in cheek.

Have read the first few letters but no spoilers...

And - we're off! I'll copy over the Schmoop summary when I can, but if I'm not here feel free to either copy it over yourself, or just get started on the discussion of the day's page.

The dates are in the OP. We'll try stick to the dates for the thread, so no spoilers please, but we know from past readalongs some of us will race ahead, some will fall behind, and some will disappear and may return when things are less hectic for them. All fine!

In general I'll try not to respond first all the time, but if the thread goes a bit tumbleweed there's a risk it's just me wittering on, so please do chip in. Some people's contributions are so perceptive and knowledgeable it's easy to feel a bit intimidated and not post, but it's great if we all post even if it's just "what she said".

Enjoy, Mes Petits Cheris...

Letter 1: Cécile de Volanges to Sophie Carney at the Ursuline Convent of —

• Cécile is getting used to life at home away from the convent.
• Here she can be as idle as she pleases.
• She writes to her friend Sophie whom she knew in the convent, telling her about her new routine.
• Cécile's mother has sprung her from the convent in preparation for her marriage.
• In a moment of embarrassment, Cécile nearly fainted when meeting the man she thought was to be her husband
• Oops—the guest was the shoemaker. No worries.

As things progress I suspect I will enjoy a synopsis of the chapter I have read, had a little look and the language may be a struggle for me to get into. But I like that it feels it is not taking itself seriously.

Enter Cécile. She seems very young and impressionable, la pauvre.

Faints at having her foot measured, has she been in the convent all her life? Also I know I've seen the film but I'm wondering if I should note down names and descriptions, I find it easy to get lost.

I can just imagine her posting on MN ... "Help, I'm so embarrassed, I'm never going to be able to buy another pair of shoes again!". 😁😁

I think we're meant to take poor, dimwit Cecile as a cautionary tale about the perils of keeping your child in a convent until she's pretty much walking down the aisle (which is of course why disgusting old Gercourt wants to marry her, and why Merteuil wants to have her debauched first)!

The emphasis on hairdressing in her new life makes more sense if you think of those giant 'tete-de-mouton' powdered hairstyles that were fashionable among aristocrats in France in the years before the Revolution -- you can imagine how time-consuming and freaky it would have been to a girl who would have worn her hair naturally (and probably covered) in the convent. And she has a place where she can lock away private correspondence for the first time. All letters to the convent would be read by the nuns, which is presumably why she's waiting for Josephine to call, so she can use her as a go-between to get letters to her friend. I doubt the nuns would have approve of their boarders having their heads turned by talk of frocks, hairdressing and marriage.

And we’re off! Thanks for setting this up Bishy it looks like we’re in for a treat. Interesting post DanceMove, I wonder whether the hairstyles will feature more along the way?

Yes, great contextual detail there, @DanceMove. I hadn't even thought about what dressing your hair meant in those circles.

And I loved "We are very worldly-wise now, don't you think?" coming after all the shaking, flushing and shrieking.

Yes, thank you Bishy for a fab job setting this up!

DanceMove, I agree completely about Cecile being a cautionary lesson against convent education, and keeping your daughter in a state of ignorance until marriage. I find it a bit sad/pathetic how in this first letter, on the one hand, she's boasting that she's out of the convent and her mother isn't treating her like a schoolgirl any longer... but on the other hand, we see how ignorant she is still is and how little say she has in her own life ('no one has told me anything yet'). She doesn't even know whether she's getting married or not! It's comical that she mistakes the shoemaker for her husband-to-be, but it's also sad.

And she has plenty of time, but nothing to write about.

In terms of style, Cecile's letters are more simply written than the others. She uses the colloquial word 'bien' a lot ('Voilà bien du temps!' 'Oh! J’ai été bien honteuse!').

Letter 2: The Marquise de Merteuil to the Vicomte de Valmont at the Château de —

• Merteuil begs Valmont to return to Paris.
• She wants his help with her revenge against the Comte de Gercourt, a man who'd left her for another woman.
• She figures that Valmont will want to play the vengeance game with her because the woman Gercourt had taken up with had at the time been with him.
• That's how these two—Merteuil and Valmont—know each other: they were jilted by the same pair of lovers.
• Gercourt plans to marry Cécile, the daughter of Madame de Volanges.
• Merteuil demands that Valmont come to dinner.
• Her plan is for Valmont to "educate" the young bride, rob her of her innocence, and make Gercourt a laughing stock in Paris high society.
• Hell hath no fury, etc…

You have to love the marquise — high-handed, imperious, fully in control of her world, combining flattery of Valmont (seducing Cecile will be a ‘heroic’ feat, worthy of his memoirs) with a cool determination that he will do her bidding. And compared to poor, ignorant, cloistered Cecile blushing and stumbling through her first steps into society, seeing every man, even the shoemaker, as The Potential Husband, this is an experienced, worldly woman for whom love is just a fascinating series of discreet sexual encounters, and marriages never involve fidelity. She thinks Gercourt is ridiculous to go to such lengths to try to ensure he’s not cuckolded.

And affairs still have to be well-managed — she wants revenge on Gercourt not because she loved him, but because the way he summarily ditched her for another woman was insulting.

I also love that she’s cool-headed enough to recognise that even her current favourite lover isn’t clever enough to be involved in the revenge plot.

I think it's the transactional nature of marriage that strikes me most here -- Cecile is just a 15 year old blonde worth 60 thousand to be handed off to whomever her mother chooses (I'm assuming Madame de Volanges is a widow, as I assume Cecile's father, were he alive, would be masterminding the marriage?).

Yes, we're off!

Two short letters in and we already have a fairly clear picture of Cecile's transactional mother, Cecile herself and her innocence/naivety as well as how easily she is shamed, the Marquise de Merteuil and her vengeful scheming and the Vicomte and how easily he is controlled by her ("all that is left is for you to thank me and obey") and his fondness for young and awkward women. Also quite a clear picture of Gerard, the much older betroved.

Really efficient use of words to get us to have a foundation of understanding for 5 key characters.

However, I feel like I am going to go mad if I have to keep typing some of these long names, so prepare yourselves for multiple abbreviations of MdM or VdV

Yes, I imagine MdM running a global conglomerate in 2024, expensively groomed, perfectly poised and utterly ruthless! Poor Cecile is a lamb to the slaughter and looks set to be just collateral damage in the bigger game the grown ups are playing. Chilling - but thrilling!

Letter 3: Cécile de Volanges to Sophie Carney

• Cécile recounts the events of last night's dinner.
• She's vague on who the guests were, but she remembers a friend of her mother's calling her "gauche." (socially awkward.)
• She had fallen asleep among the company, so her mother's friend is probably right.

I don’t think the Vicomte is easily controlled by her — she’s part teasing him with the idea he’ll obey her wishes with alacrity, part flattering him into an undertaking she says will get both of them revenge on Gercourt, who dropped Merteuil for another woman (who left Valmont for him).

Poor Cecile, being discussed by her mother’s dinner guests like she’s a prize pig in an agricultural show, and the men perving over her ‘ripening’ (ugh!) and pathetically pleased that Merteuil is paying her some attention — little does she know…

And the contrast between her own unprompted physical responses (blushing when embarrassed and dropping off when bored) and the fake rouge of the unblushing other women.

And men with the make-up, it just occurred to me! I suppose Cecile only notices the women, because she thinks of blushing as something women do when men look at them…

I had a slightly disappointing thought about MdM. I was thinking what a bad-ass she is and how enjoyably shocking it is to see a woman taking her power and playing God with other people's lives. And then it occurred to me - this is a woman written by a man. So is she actually a male character written by a man as a woman? It's much easier to imagine two men deciding to play a game involving sexual seduction, isn't it?

You could argue the same about Emma Bovary - a woman who pursues her own sexual desire without regard for the consequences is breaking the mould - but she is written by a man.

Meanwhile, Ruth has very little agency at all, other than to call on God to help her resist temptation, and Jemima Bradshaw is a spirited young woman who needs an older wiser man to tame her - not unlike some Austin and Bronte characters.

So I'm feeling slightly disappointed here and trying to think when the first bad ass women written by women appeared. But then, do I want my female heroines to act like men? I had a similar thought reading the Girl with a Dragon Tattoo - she breaks the mould of female characters, then you remember she was written by a man. And actually, I don't particularly enjoy reading women carrying out male violence. Though I am sure I am going to enjoy MdM, it did make me pause for thought.

Letter 4: The Vicomte de Valmont to the Marquise de Merteuil in Paris

• Valmont finds the challenge too easy for him.
• He thinks that anyone could easily seduce Cécile.
• He has higher ambitions: seduce the Présidente de Tourvel, a married woman known for her piety, devotion, and principles. Just, you know, for the fun of it.
• Madame de Tourvel is staying with Valmont's aunt while her husband's out of town.
• Valmont's staying there, too. Game on.

BTW, we're camping with limited access to internet over the weekend, so if I don't get here, feel free to crack on and I'll add the summaries when I can, or anyone is welcome to go to the Schmoop link and cut and paste them across.

Hope you all have a good bank holiday weekend.

I think all we can do is to recognise that it's a kind of cross-sex ventriloquism, of a particular era with that era's ideas about sex and gender roles at play (whether de Laclos is entering into them or subverting them, or a mixture, he can't exist outside them entirely), and bear it in mind as we think about the character of Merteuil (and all the other female characters, obviously). Is Merteuil just a male fantasy of a coolly manipulative woman who is nonetheless driven by her sexual desires? Or is she a male-authored figure of fear, given her power and ability to lead her sexual life like a man? Is Cecile just a male stereotype, the sexually-curious but totally ignorant convent girl dying for a man? Is Madame de Tourvel another male stereotype, the 'frigid', virtuous prude someone tries to seduce for a bet?

Something to think about at the end, maybe?

What I notice about this letter is the way Valmont uses religious language to describe his and Merteuil's sexual escapades -- he says they split up from one another to be missionaries 'preaching the faith' of libertinage, and that she has made far more converts than he has, and that if the 'God of Love' judged them on their missionary activities, she'd be a great saint with a cathedral dedicated to her, while he would be only a small saint with a village church. Is he also saying she's put it about a good lot more than he has, and sniggering slightly, or is it just respect?

Presumably far more shocking to a contemporary audience? You do always wonder what their affair was like, how long it lasted, were they faithful, even briefly, to one another, did they recognise one another as kindred spirits before or during the affair, why they split, who initiated it...)

He is putting her down a bit, isn't he, by saying her plan to seduce Cecile isn't worthy of him because anyone could do it? And exciting her sexual jealousy by flattering her at the start with the idea he'd like to get back together, and then detailing his obsession with Madame de Tourvel?