MANICHAEAN
03-29-2014, 05:07 AM
"Les Liaisons Dangereuses" by Choderlos de Laclos.
For those not familiar with the book,(as opposed to the film), Laclos we are told wrote this to depict the corrupt nobility of the Ancien Regime before the French Revolution (1789-1799). We are also told, not without interest, that Marie Antoinette had a copy, although I would imagine this fact would not have been advertised at the time.To my mind it is a tale highly recommended for readers whose two favorite passions in the battlefield of romance are a glorious resistance followed by a pleasurable defeat.
At the centre of this novel are the main characters, the lothario Vicomte de Valmont, and his former lover the widow Marquise de Merteuil. De Merteuil orders de Valmont to seduce a 15 year old girl, Cecile, who the Marquise’s former lover threw her over for, just for her amusement. At the same time, the Vicomte tries his hand at seducing the prudish married Presidente de Tourvel. To Valmont and de Merteuil, it’s all a game. As de Valmont says regarding de Tourvel,
"I shall possess this woman; I shall steal her from the husband who profanes her: I will even dare ravish her from the God whom she adores. What delight, to be in turns the
object and the victor of her remorse. Far be it from me to destroy the prejudices which sway her mind. They will add to my happiness and my triumph. Let her believe in virtue, and sacrifice it to me; let the idea of falling terrify her, without preventing her fall; and may she, shaken by a thousand terrors, forget them, vanquish them only in my arms.”
As you might imagine, there are a mass of tangling alliances and all the pitfalls therein, with Valmont as the consummate bounder who attains his jollys in conquering, and then abandoning beautiful, prominent women in high society.
The dialogue about the nature of love is beautifully articulated where it is sincere. e.g.
"And love: does one have it when one wills? Yet one needs it ever."
"Teach me to live where you are not."
“If, the extent of my love has exactly matched the extent of your virtue, it’s not surprising that they have both run out at the same time”
It is also interesting to note that the superb phrase, “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” often attributed to this novel, (perhaps more in spirit than in print), does not appear.
I found it difficult to choose between the two main characters, the Marquise de Merteuil and Vicomte de Valmont. They challenge the imposed rules and outwit hypocrisy, but from a moral viewpoint the problem is that they only do it to achieve personal gratification, corrupting themselves and everyone else who dares to trust them.
But let's take the Vicomte first. Early in the novel, the Vicomte, knowing he is being followed by the footman of his intended victim goes through the whole scenario of helping local villagers who are to be evicted for not paying their taxes. This of course is reported back to the footman's mistress, where as judged correctly it gives the right impression.
What is interesting though is that the Vicomte de Valmont is seen to enjoy such a philanthropic pleasure while failing to appreciate its intrinsic value, seeing it merely as one step on the path of Madame de Tourvel's seduction. If anything, this makes him appear less innately evil, and perhaps more thoroughly damned.
The Marquise de Merteuil comes across as the more dominant of the two. She tells Valmont the story of her self-imposed "moral" education in emotional control and duplicity, and one could almost come to sympathise with a woman like herself, the embodiment of a strong character and prodigious appetites, who must strive to preserve her respectability in the ritualised patriarchal society of eighteenth century France.
She is playing the same game Valmont plays, but because of her gender she must play it better. In order to trick and manipulate individuals into and out of her bed, she must also organize the circumstances so that none of her lovers can speak about it afterward and be believed; she must safeguard her own reputation as a respectable woman. At the same time, she must also protect against compromising her independence: she does not wish to remarry after the death of her husband, she says, because she hates the idea of anyone having the right to tell her what to do. Coming from a sheltered convent education, she has painstakingly crafted herself into the person she has become:
"Je puis dire que je suis mon ouvrage." "I can say that I am my own work" is perhaps a claim that a lot of women could not have made at the time. She writes "ouvrage," but she could just as easily have written "chef-d'oeuvre." "I am my own masterpiece."
Overall "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" is enjoyable and remains seductive even as it simultaneously exposes the ugly underpinnings of the very process of seduction.
Finally the ending is traditional, if one is into the triumph of good over evil.
The Vicomte alternately; falls in love with his victim, is double crossed by the Marquise, does not have his wicked way with her, undertakes a fatal duel and sustains remorse for his ways.
The Marquise has to leave town and is struck down with a disfiguring disease, whilst the ravished Cecile goes back into the convent from which she had only emerged at the beginning of the tale. Which brings me to ask, what was this thing with convents as a means of moral restraint and punishment for one's supposed sins? Rare it is that the male villain becomes a Benedictian monk or adopts the attire of holy orders. Perhaps it
really is a case of "Revenge is a dish best served cold?"
For those not familiar with the book,(as opposed to the film), Laclos we are told wrote this to depict the corrupt nobility of the Ancien Regime before the French Revolution (1789-1799). We are also told, not without interest, that Marie Antoinette had a copy, although I would imagine this fact would not have been advertised at the time.To my mind it is a tale highly recommended for readers whose two favorite passions in the battlefield of romance are a glorious resistance followed by a pleasurable defeat.
At the centre of this novel are the main characters, the lothario Vicomte de Valmont, and his former lover the widow Marquise de Merteuil. De Merteuil orders de Valmont to seduce a 15 year old girl, Cecile, who the Marquise’s former lover threw her over for, just for her amusement. At the same time, the Vicomte tries his hand at seducing the prudish married Presidente de Tourvel. To Valmont and de Merteuil, it’s all a game. As de Valmont says regarding de Tourvel,
"I shall possess this woman; I shall steal her from the husband who profanes her: I will even dare ravish her from the God whom she adores. What delight, to be in turns the
object and the victor of her remorse. Far be it from me to destroy the prejudices which sway her mind. They will add to my happiness and my triumph. Let her believe in virtue, and sacrifice it to me; let the idea of falling terrify her, without preventing her fall; and may she, shaken by a thousand terrors, forget them, vanquish them only in my arms.”
As you might imagine, there are a mass of tangling alliances and all the pitfalls therein, with Valmont as the consummate bounder who attains his jollys in conquering, and then abandoning beautiful, prominent women in high society.
The dialogue about the nature of love is beautifully articulated where it is sincere. e.g.
"And love: does one have it when one wills? Yet one needs it ever."
"Teach me to live where you are not."
“If, the extent of my love has exactly matched the extent of your virtue, it’s not surprising that they have both run out at the same time”
It is also interesting to note that the superb phrase, “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” often attributed to this novel, (perhaps more in spirit than in print), does not appear.
I found it difficult to choose between the two main characters, the Marquise de Merteuil and Vicomte de Valmont. They challenge the imposed rules and outwit hypocrisy, but from a moral viewpoint the problem is that they only do it to achieve personal gratification, corrupting themselves and everyone else who dares to trust them.
But let's take the Vicomte first. Early in the novel, the Vicomte, knowing he is being followed by the footman of his intended victim goes through the whole scenario of helping local villagers who are to be evicted for not paying their taxes. This of course is reported back to the footman's mistress, where as judged correctly it gives the right impression.
What is interesting though is that the Vicomte de Valmont is seen to enjoy such a philanthropic pleasure while failing to appreciate its intrinsic value, seeing it merely as one step on the path of Madame de Tourvel's seduction. If anything, this makes him appear less innately evil, and perhaps more thoroughly damned.
The Marquise de Merteuil comes across as the more dominant of the two. She tells Valmont the story of her self-imposed "moral" education in emotional control and duplicity, and one could almost come to sympathise with a woman like herself, the embodiment of a strong character and prodigious appetites, who must strive to preserve her respectability in the ritualised patriarchal society of eighteenth century France.
She is playing the same game Valmont plays, but because of her gender she must play it better. In order to trick and manipulate individuals into and out of her bed, she must also organize the circumstances so that none of her lovers can speak about it afterward and be believed; she must safeguard her own reputation as a respectable woman. At the same time, she must also protect against compromising her independence: she does not wish to remarry after the death of her husband, she says, because she hates the idea of anyone having the right to tell her what to do. Coming from a sheltered convent education, she has painstakingly crafted herself into the person she has become:
"Je puis dire que je suis mon ouvrage." "I can say that I am my own work" is perhaps a claim that a lot of women could not have made at the time. She writes "ouvrage," but she could just as easily have written "chef-d'oeuvre." "I am my own masterpiece."
Overall "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" is enjoyable and remains seductive even as it simultaneously exposes the ugly underpinnings of the very process of seduction.
Finally the ending is traditional, if one is into the triumph of good over evil.
The Vicomte alternately; falls in love with his victim, is double crossed by the Marquise, does not have his wicked way with her, undertakes a fatal duel and sustains remorse for his ways.
The Marquise has to leave town and is struck down with a disfiguring disease, whilst the ravished Cecile goes back into the convent from which she had only emerged at the beginning of the tale. Which brings me to ask, what was this thing with convents as a means of moral restraint and punishment for one's supposed sins? Rare it is that the male villain becomes a Benedictian monk or adopts the attire of holy orders. Perhaps it
really is a case of "Revenge is a dish best served cold?"