Reviews

Carmen and Other Stories by Nicholas Jotcham, Prosper Mérimée

eb00kie's review against another edition

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4.0

This anthology contains:

Carmen
A novella about true love, though one is infatuated and the other indifferent

First, I should have written this in French, but I have a while to go yet so I hope you'll bear with me.

To this day, the female seducer is a negative symbol: Venus/Aphrodite, Lillith, sirens, succubi. Godly or demonic, lore presents their power as most sordid.

Carmen is of their ilk, but human, vibrant and alive. Therein lies her charm, for one alive is to be bound by humanity. Thus, her foolish lover expects the goddess, but restrained by the weaknesses of her form and dependent of the rules society made to protect her. Yet Carmen is not only as free as the wind, but strong and independent also, and for reasons unknown doesn't fall in love with the designated 'Prince Charming'.

He claims it is the fault of her upbringing, but what would that mean? 'nurture' needs 'nature' and upbringing is bound to create conflict if turned on the wrong temper. If one is to love, after falling in love, it is at the conflicts inside the other, not the conflicts between the two, one should look.

Mateo Falcone
A short story about the facets of honor. One might say there is really only one kind and it's already perishing from this brand new world and for me and that person there are little stories like this one which makes you ask "what else could he have done?" Honor is a code that is enforced by one's pride and fear, that cherishes integrity and allows dignity.

It is not a perfect world, ours and the dominion of law and conscience bring more security than the coin toss of whether the local who's strongest is also wisest, but the same conscience and law dictate that he live blemished by the festering mark of his weakness and shame.

L'Enlèvement de la redoute

Venus d'Ille
There is a certain romanticism in a statue that kills those who play at love, though the symbolism of a black Venus with white eyes seems to raw for my taste, demon-like, really. This expression is enforced by her facial expression, described as wicked (while extremely beautiful). If anything, this Venus inspires a feeling of the inevitable and perhaps this is where the 'horror' lies.

Otherwise, if I were to go for some black humor I'd say this short story is a jab at feminists, though it appeared long before the Suffrage.

psalva's review

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I came to this book for Carmen, which was the first story here, and I wasn’t too impressed by it. Beyond its use of unreliable narrators, I didn’t take away much else. I read two more stories and they felt cold/boring to me. Merimée’s writing is just not that interesting. I’m glad I read the original Carmen but I just don’t care enough to read further. 

albatrossonhalfpointe's review against another edition

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3.0

The first in a line of modern masters of the short story, Prosper Mérimée (1803-70) wrote about the dark forces at work beneath civilization's thin veneer.

In Carmen (1845), the tale from which Bizet's famous opera was drawn, Mérimée created a classic literary type: the femme fatale, who exploits her sexuality and air of mystery to ensnare and ultimately destroy the unwary. Like Carmen, his other 'long' tale, Colomba, mingles violent action and local colour with an ironic narrative style; Colomba herself is a protagonist of chilling power even greater perhaps than Carmen's.

This selection includes five short stories written in 1829-30, chosen to show Mérimée's supreme ability to explore the contrast between primitive and civilized values. In Mateo Falcone, a Corsican's conception of honour forces him to exact a ruthless revenge; The Storming of the Redoubt describes an incident in Napoleon's 1812 Russian campaign; Tamango depicts a revolt of Negro slaves; The Etruscan Vase is a tale of passionate jealousy set in Paris; The Game of Backgammon is a study in fatal remorse.

Mérimée's own favourite among his stories, The Venus of Ille, is a brilliant tale of the supernatural; Lokis, the last story in this selection, is set in the forests of Lithuania and represents the fiction Mérimée wrote in old age.


OK, well, let's do this in the order presented above.

Carmen: I wasn't really that enamoured with either her or the story. I didn't find her that enthralling, and the dude wasn't that sympathetic, either. I seem to recall that in the opera, he actually kills her in a passionate moment of frenzy, right outside the bullring, and I think that's a better way than the almost calm, matter-of-fact way he does it in the original. I'm really not doing so well lately on originals vs. adaptations here...

Colomba: I liked this one. I don't know that I would necessarily go so far as to say that Colomba has "chilling power," but I liked her better than I liked Carmen, and I liked the whole story better too. It didn't end quite the way I expected, either, wich is always kind of fun. This was the second-last story in the collection, and up to that point, they'd all ended badly, so I was entirely expecting this one too as well. Things mostly worked out OK, though, so that was kind of nice, as I actually liked the characters, and was pleased to see things turn out for them.

Mateo Falcone: Didn't leave much of an impression on me. There was honour and ruthless revenge, and that was that.

The Storming of the Redoubt: This one was very short, and I'm not too sure what the point was. It was more like a short battle scene out of a larger context.

Tamango: Stories about slaves are always a little sad, although frankly, I feel a little less sad about the fate of a guy who makes a living selling his own people into slavery. The sense of futility was quite well conveyed though, with the slaves successfully managing to overthrow their captors, only to realize that they have no sea skills, leading to their getting lost at sea and ultimately all dying anyway. Dying free, I guess, which is perhaps an improvement over the alternative, but dying of starvation and dehydration is really never good, no matter what angle you look at it from.

The Etruscan Vase: This one did not end well, and that made me sad, because it almost did, and I actually quite liked the protagonist. Human folly at its best (or worst, really, I suppose) leads to the poor dear's undoing.

The Game of Backgammon: Another downer, but interesting in the way he uses the framing device. A number of his stories start and end with someone telling a story, but this one brings the frame back before the story is over. Something happens in "real life," if you will, leading to the story's being broken off so you never actually get to find out how it ends.

The Venus of Ille: There was a little Frankenstein in here, a little Tim Burton's Coprse Bride, and I want to say at least a little of something else I've heard before. It was very reminiscent of a sort of folk tale, maybe, an old legend that we've heard in various incarnations throughout our lives. Who knows, though? Maybe this was the original.

Lokis: This one was a little odd. It too ends quite abruptly, but not in quite the same way as the other. You basically do get to the end of the story, but there are quite a number of unanswered questions at that point. It seems like there might be a supernatural element, but that's never entirely clear, or it could just be an insanity story, but that's not entirely clear either. I liked it, though. It kept me interested in what was going to happen, so that's good.

Generally, I'm not a big fan of short stories, but for the most part, these ones were pretty decent. Still, though, I prefer to have my stories told in their full context and everything, rather than just quick little snapshots of a moment.
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