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derekmorgansbabyg1rl's review
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
oldenglishrose's review
3.0
It is next to impossible to try to summarise what exactly goes on in this book in the way of plot. All that I can really say is that it follows the relationships of the eponymous Marie, some good and some bad, and watches as they unfold. The original French title of this book is A la recherche de Marie, an homage to A la recherche du temps perdu, suggesting that it is probably full of very clever allusions to Proust which I completely failed to spot, not having read Proust. In fact, I’m sure anyone who is more familiar with this type of literature would probably find reading Marie a far richer, more involving experience than I did, but as it was I was happy just to drift along, carried by the lovely prose.
This prose is often astute and insightful, and I’m going to have to quote a large chunk of it to give a proper feel for Bordouxhe’s writing: "A few days ago, a young woman in a linen skirt was sitting on a sunny beach. Today, a young woman plunges tanned hands into soapy water, goes down to the cellar to fetch the coal, cleans the floor, peels the vegetables. Marie thinks of other young women she knows and smiles at the astonishment they would feel if they could see her now. What did these other women think of Marie; why does she feel herself to be so different, and why has she never succeeded in really becoming their friend? Perhaps life is simpler if your world is like theirs, confined to choosing wallpaper or sofa covers, to a luxurious home, to the importance of having a maid, to immaculate receptions, to tea parties with friends where a few ideas are exchanged on the latest books. If they have a child, they love it not because it is flesh of their flesh but because it has finally given some point to their existence. They give the impression of being happy or, if they are not, they speak of happiness as an unusable, clearly defined object that need only be discovered and then hung in the apartment like a sprig of mistletoe." (pp. 30-31)
The writing (and indeed the translation) of this book is skillful, alternating as it does between the faintly vague and disconnected atmosphere that I tend to associate with writing of this period and style, and moments of intense, vibrant, passionate immediacy. As Bourdouxhe says: "So it was that whole minutes, hours, years passed by — all full, fine and perfect in their way, but essentially artificial, for if Marie were not in charge of them, these moments would not exist; she alone constructs them, with her heart, her flesh, her personal desires. This was her only faith, and it shone as brightly as the reins she held in her hands." (p. 60)
Marie herself also switches between these two extremes, sometimes quiet and distracted, as though she isn’t really present on the page, and at others vivacious, opinionated and irrepressible. She also seems incredibly modern and forward for a woman of this time, perhaps because the book is quite candid about her sexual encounters. Marie is a truly believable character and the book portrays the meanderings of her mind in such a way that I felt I knew her as much as it is ever possible to know someone (which, as this story suggests, is never as well as you might think). The final chapter, the only one narrated directly by Marie, is simply stunning.
I will definitely be seeking out more of Bourdouxhe’s work after reading Marie. It’s a shame that she seems to be so little known, although perhaps this isn’t true of the French speaking world.
This prose is often astute and insightful, and I’m going to have to quote a large chunk of it to give a proper feel for Bordouxhe’s writing: "A few days ago, a young woman in a linen skirt was sitting on a sunny beach. Today, a young woman plunges tanned hands into soapy water, goes down to the cellar to fetch the coal, cleans the floor, peels the vegetables. Marie thinks of other young women she knows and smiles at the astonishment they would feel if they could see her now. What did these other women think of Marie; why does she feel herself to be so different, and why has she never succeeded in really becoming their friend? Perhaps life is simpler if your world is like theirs, confined to choosing wallpaper or sofa covers, to a luxurious home, to the importance of having a maid, to immaculate receptions, to tea parties with friends where a few ideas are exchanged on the latest books. If they have a child, they love it not because it is flesh of their flesh but because it has finally given some point to their existence. They give the impression of being happy or, if they are not, they speak of happiness as an unusable, clearly defined object that need only be discovered and then hung in the apartment like a sprig of mistletoe." (pp. 30-31)
The writing (and indeed the translation) of this book is skillful, alternating as it does between the faintly vague and disconnected atmosphere that I tend to associate with writing of this period and style, and moments of intense, vibrant, passionate immediacy. As Bourdouxhe says: "So it was that whole minutes, hours, years passed by — all full, fine and perfect in their way, but essentially artificial, for if Marie were not in charge of them, these moments would not exist; she alone constructs them, with her heart, her flesh, her personal desires. This was her only faith, and it shone as brightly as the reins she held in her hands." (p. 60)
Marie herself also switches between these two extremes, sometimes quiet and distracted, as though she isn’t really present on the page, and at others vivacious, opinionated and irrepressible. She also seems incredibly modern and forward for a woman of this time, perhaps because the book is quite candid about her sexual encounters. Marie is a truly believable character and the book portrays the meanderings of her mind in such a way that I felt I knew her as much as it is ever possible to know someone (which, as this story suggests, is never as well as you might think). The final chapter, the only one narrated directly by Marie, is simply stunning.
I will definitely be seeking out more of Bourdouxhe’s work after reading Marie. It’s a shame that she seems to be so little known, although perhaps this isn’t true of the French speaking world.
jennykinnear's review
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
sethlynch's review
5.0
The style feels a little jerky at first but once you get used to it things fly along. The book is littered with ideas and I like the way many were observed without being fully developed.
libbysbookshelf's review
MARIE by MADELEINE BOURDOUXHE
What a fabulous French book set all over France. The protagonist is happily married — can’t believe her luck in fact — that is until she spots a handsome stranger at the beach… and then Marie’s world turns upside down.
The book is largely set inside Marie’s head, following her worries and anxieties after being unfaithful to her husband.
Marie is a 30 year old woman living in the 1940s (and written in that period as well), yet somehow she has a very similar state of mind to a millennial woman.
I really adored this book. I felt transported to France.
#book #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #frenchliterature #bookreview #bookrecommendations #bookrecommendation #bookreviewfeatures #bookrecommendation #bookreviewer #bookreader #books #marie #madeleinebourdouxhe
What a fabulous French book set all over France. The protagonist is happily married — can’t believe her luck in fact — that is until she spots a handsome stranger at the beach… and then Marie’s world turns upside down.
The book is largely set inside Marie’s head, following her worries and anxieties after being unfaithful to her husband.
Marie is a 30 year old woman living in the 1940s (and written in that period as well), yet somehow she has a very similar state of mind to a millennial woman.
I really adored this book. I felt transported to France.
#book #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #frenchliterature #bookreview #bookrecommendations #bookrecommendation #bookreviewfeatures #bookrecommendation #bookreviewer #bookreader #books #marie #madeleinebourdouxhe
emason1121's review
3.0
I don't have a definitive conclusion regarding Marie-- it is told in that vague observational style so common with existentialists like Camus, where the reader is in a character's thoughts but missing so much context. The story brings up a lot to explore (such as the death of the author, the justification [or lack thereof] for suicide, and the limiting roles of women that lead them to seek out freedom in means and ways relational), but doesn't feel like it welcomes the reader in to these explorations. It felt hard to relate to any idea in the book, and I'm not sure if that was a function of style, translation, or the persistent idea that women of a certain race and class were, at that time, limited to certain thoughts and spheres.
curiousreader's review
Madeleine Bourdouxhe's novel 'Marie' is a mixture of J. D. Salinger's attentiveness to detail in recreating fleeting moments, the play with narrative form in the 2001 film 'Amélie', and something entirely its own - in telling the story of a woman who walks through her life with such a rich inner world that she is at times more alive in her own mind than in the outside world, where she has a husband, a lover, a sister, friends and acquaintances all mingled into the threads of her narrative and forming her outward existence.
The novel opens with Marie and her husband going to the beach, during their holiday away from Paris. While her husband goes off to take a swim, she sits in the sun and locks eyes with a young man she ends up having an affair with. While she is married, she doesn't view this affair truly as an affair but rather as an intense and somewhat magical connection that is only alive in the few times they meet, so far in between meetings that it is in most ways a small part of her everyday. Her relationship with her husband isn't bad, it hasn't propelled her into this new relationship but rather it's an extension of her overflowing sensing of the world - she feels so much, so deeply, and one person isn't enough to receive all that feeling, she muses. While the novel shows Marie interacting with many men, her husband and her lover and others to boot, it's not so much about the relationships per say but rather in Marie's reactions to other people and to moments, even to physical objects, that this novel truly shines. Her relationship with her sister, Claudine, is another cornerstone of the novel - this sister, who is so different from her, and then her sister's need for her, shows another side of Marie. Both her distance in sharing her own inner life, to her sister or to anyone really, and how she is viewed by other people - creates an interesting contrast as you, the reader, see Marie mostly from within.
What I meant by the resemblance to Salinger is in particular Salinger's strength in short stories, to capture a moment - a single second-like moment of time in which nothing much happens, but there is a vividity to the picture that not only brings the people to life but creates an impression of sound, smell, and touch. There is even a sense of the emotions the characters are feeling, not so much in big brushstrokes like 'sadness' or 'loneliness' but more an indescribable sense of loss, or a longing for a place that never was. There is a timeless sense to the novel's minutiae moments, that reminded me of Salinger, and something I haven't seen much aside from in his writing before.
The other similarity to the film 'Amélie' is the way the narrator is sometimes talking directly to Marie, as if Marie is talking to Marie - possibly in her mind, she is talking to and guiding herself and in her actions, her decisions. There is this awareness interwoven in the story, through the way the narrative is performed, that reminded me of this charming film and its implications for the reader as being both an insider, and somewhat like an intruder into someone's mind.
There is something indescribable about Bourdouxhe's writing and her way of both transforming Marie and pulling her forward through these 141 pages. At the same time, it feels like such a novel where not a word is wasted in capturing something essential - something true. In many ways, I think I reacted to this book so strongly because it connected with me in a personal way, with Marie's own mind. Putting that aside, I really do think it's a novel many people would love and it's a shame this writer isn't more well-known. An utterly fantastic book and one I'm certain will be one of my favorites of the year!
The novel opens with Marie and her husband going to the beach, during their holiday away from Paris. While her husband goes off to take a swim, she sits in the sun and locks eyes with a young man she ends up having an affair with. While she is married, she doesn't view this affair truly as an affair but rather as an intense and somewhat magical connection that is only alive in the few times they meet, so far in between meetings that it is in most ways a small part of her everyday. Her relationship with her husband isn't bad, it hasn't propelled her into this new relationship but rather it's an extension of her overflowing sensing of the world - she feels so much, so deeply, and one person isn't enough to receive all that feeling, she muses. While the novel shows Marie interacting with many men, her husband and her lover and others to boot, it's not so much about the relationships per say but rather in Marie's reactions to other people and to moments, even to physical objects, that this novel truly shines. Her relationship with her sister, Claudine, is another cornerstone of the novel - this sister, who is so different from her, and then her sister's need for her, shows another side of Marie. Both her distance in sharing her own inner life, to her sister or to anyone really, and how she is viewed by other people - creates an interesting contrast as you, the reader, see Marie mostly from within.
What I meant by the resemblance to Salinger is in particular Salinger's strength in short stories, to capture a moment - a single second-like moment of time in which nothing much happens, but there is a vividity to the picture that not only brings the people to life but creates an impression of sound, smell, and touch. There is even a sense of the emotions the characters are feeling, not so much in big brushstrokes like 'sadness' or 'loneliness' but more an indescribable sense of loss, or a longing for a place that never was. There is a timeless sense to the novel's minutiae moments, that reminded me of Salinger, and something I haven't seen much aside from in his writing before.
The other similarity to the film 'Amélie' is the way the narrator is sometimes talking directly to Marie, as if Marie is talking to Marie - possibly in her mind, she is talking to and guiding herself and in her actions, her decisions. There is this awareness interwoven in the story, through the way the narrative is performed, that reminded me of this charming film and its implications for the reader as being both an insider, and somewhat like an intruder into someone's mind.
There is something indescribable about Bourdouxhe's writing and her way of both transforming Marie and pulling her forward through these 141 pages. At the same time, it feels like such a novel where not a word is wasted in capturing something essential - something true. In many ways, I think I reacted to this book so strongly because it connected with me in a personal way, with Marie's own mind. Putting that aside, I really do think it's a novel many people would love and it's a shame this writer isn't more well-known. An utterly fantastic book and one I'm certain will be one of my favorites of the year!