Well, four Frenchies in a row – a first for me. I’ve read so little French literature (probably mostly Guy de Maupassant) that it may equal my total past reading.
Three were my first Balzacs. I started with The Girl With the Golden Eyes, where my reaction was mostly impatient dislike. Then Pere Goriot, which was vastly preferable, at least having some interesting characters. Now just finished Cousin Bette, chosen at the suggestion of a poster here, the best, for me, and leaving me with a feeling that I at least had a handle, so to speak, on Balzac.
For me, at least it had a clearer plot (which Goriot didn’t) and a range of interesting characters (which Golden Eyes didn’t). I’ll admit I had occasional problems identifying people because of the variations of ways of referring to them (by name, by relationship, by title, by job). But it was very compelling. There was one moment, when the virtuous Baroness Adeline Hulot is abasing herself, offering herself up for money, that I felt that rare thrill of anticipation, where I had to stop, because I was reading while in transit, but couldn’t wait to get back to it, so see how it was going to turn out.
It’s an amazingly complex, pitiless work, but I’m left wondering if France, say 1750-1850, was as sexually melodramatic as Laclos and Balzac relate. Or as corrupt as Balzac insists, with almost everything amenable to financial transaction, and everyone borrowing right and left. If you recall that Jane Austen considered it a compliment to describe a character as without guile – well, you’d be hard-pressed to find any qualifying characters here.
I suppose it was past the point where it could have ended satisfyingly, and it didn’t. On one hand, I admire that. On the other hand, I admit I’m not left with a huge urge to read more. And none of these are books that I’d want to endlessly re-read.
(I’m now back to reading a socio-political book on hidden kinds of basic fundamental jobs that we disdain, like prison guard jobs.)