Scan barcode
A review by jjupille
The Red and the Black by Stendhal
4.0
Picked up a reasonably nice copy of this at Magus in Seattle, Liveright Publishing Corp., NY, Black & Gold edition, May 1943, trans. C.K. Scott-Moncrieff.
Read it twice in French, first time while living in Grenoble. Didn't really stick with me much either time --I now see why!-- and now read it in English.
Not an easy read, though I found the second volume (in Paris) much faster than the first (in the provinces). I am not really erudite enough to analyze this in full, and I don't write well enough to structure anything, so I'll just go stream-of-consciousness. Most of this is probably wrong or obvious or whatever.
I read around that it's considered one of the first (or, anyway, a good early exemplar) of a modern novel, and I think that's absolutely right. While he takes lots of different perspectives (including offering his own as a writer, his own as a narrator, his characters', and so on), he does so serially. I think the result is to sharpen this idea of the "single point perspective" that is so characteristic of modernity (I get this at a great distance from John Gerard Ruggie!). Each position has its own distinctiveness, and we are in a properly taxonomized world in which each thing is exclusive to each other thing at any given point in time.
It retains the florid and breathlessly romantic language of the 18th century, but I sense that Stendhal is sending this stuff up. As someone I just read on Goodreads pointed out, Stendhal's characters faint at the site of a well-turned ankle or a display of uncommon cheek, but then get it on all night long. Very 19th century! And, of course, it's a book about hypocrisy, and it seems pretty clear to me that Stendhal is smirking while he writes a lot of this.
Perhaps that's what makes it rather hard to read. Stendhal is being intentionally baroque and florid, only to drop the ax ... or should I say, guillotine? ... with the carnal and material base of it all. As someone commented here (sorry if I should link or cite these things!), the sex and violence can be long-delayed, but when it's on, it's on. Again: hypocrisy.
I don't have much to say about it as an analysis of social class (in 1830 France). Maybe I am dense, but I am not quite sure what to make of it, especially given the whole dénouement and the fates of the women. Do the provincials get a little whitewash at the end? Is there actual nobility in the Nobility? I can't really tell.
Anyway, as a modern who likes dark stuff, I came away pretty satisfied with this. If you are feeling like a whiff of early modern leather in your romantic lace, you might want to check this out.
Read it twice in French, first time while living in Grenoble. Didn't really stick with me much either time --I now see why!-- and now read it in English.
Not an easy read, though I found the second volume (in Paris) much faster than the first (in the provinces). I am not really erudite enough to analyze this in full, and I don't write well enough to structure anything, so I'll just go stream-of-consciousness. Most of this is probably wrong or obvious or whatever.
I read around that it's considered one of the first (or, anyway, a good early exemplar) of a modern novel, and I think that's absolutely right. While he takes lots of different perspectives (including offering his own as a writer, his own as a narrator, his characters', and so on), he does so serially. I think the result is to sharpen this idea of the "single point perspective" that is so characteristic of modernity (I get this at a great distance from John Gerard Ruggie!). Each position has its own distinctiveness, and we are in a properly taxonomized world in which each thing is exclusive to each other thing at any given point in time.
It retains the florid and breathlessly romantic language of the 18th century, but I sense that Stendhal is sending this stuff up. As someone I just read on Goodreads pointed out, Stendhal's characters faint at the site of a well-turned ankle or a display of uncommon cheek, but then get it on all night long. Very 19th century! And, of course, it's a book about hypocrisy, and it seems pretty clear to me that Stendhal is smirking while he writes a lot of this.
Perhaps that's what makes it rather hard to read. Stendhal is being intentionally baroque and florid, only to drop the ax ... or should I say, guillotine? ... with the carnal and material base of it all. As someone commented here (sorry if I should link or cite these things!), the sex and violence can be long-delayed, but when it's on, it's on. Again: hypocrisy.
I don't have much to say about it as an analysis of social class (in 1830 France). Maybe I am dense, but I am not quite sure what to make of it, especially given the whole dénouement and the fates of the women. Do the provincials get a little whitewash at the end? Is there actual nobility in the Nobility? I can't really tell.
Anyway, as a modern who likes dark stuff, I came away pretty satisfied with this. If you are feeling like a whiff of early modern leather in your romantic lace, you might want to check this out.