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3.57 AVERAGE
3.57 AVERAGE
Suite à ma lecture de Mme Bovary lorsque j'avais quatorze ans, j'étais plutôt méfiante vis à vis de Flaubert. Son nom résonnait comme ENNUI. Pourtant, beaucoup d'amis et de connaissances de confiance m'ont recommandé la lecture de L'éducation sentimentale. Dès les premières lignes, j'ai senti que ce serait une lecture très différente de Mme Bovary.
Arrivant de sa campagne natale, Frédéric Moreau monte à Paris pour faire carrière et trouver l'amour. Dans l'esprit de tout grand roman d'apprentissage, Frédéric vivra déconvenues, élans romantiques et changements de coeur. On ne s'y ennuie pas une seconde, certaines scènes sont éblouissantes de finesse, de beauté. J'avais le sentiment de me promener dans des tableaux de Poussin ou Ingres, de sentir le soleil entre les feuilles, d'entendre les ruisseaux ou les cris de colères des révolutionnaires.
J'ai eu tout de même bien du mal à m'attacher à Frédéric, il m'a souvent agacé par son inconsistance et son obsession de ses maitresses. En fait, tous les personnages, à l'exception de Louise, m'ont déplu. L'histoire elle-même ne m'a pas particulièrement intéresser non plus, et ce n'est pas du tout pour elle que j'ai apprécié ce roman, j'ai lu déjà plusieurs fois des histoires semblables chez Balzac du Zola, rien de neuf pour moi ici.
Non, ce qui m'a intéressé ce sont certaines scènes, la beauté de la description, la force de l'action, le cynisme ou l'humour critique de Flaubert, l'intelligence de sa plume aussi. Les notes rajoutaient un vrai plus à l'histoire, car elles donnaient des informations utiles sur les évènements historiques du livre, sur les incohérences ou les procédés d'écritures de l'auteur.
Pour finir, je dirais que je suis bien contente d'avoir écouté mes connaissances et que Flaubert ne me fait plus peur, je crois même que j'ai envie de lire ses autres textes !
Arrivant de sa campagne natale, Frédéric Moreau monte à Paris pour faire carrière et trouver l'amour. Dans l'esprit de tout grand roman d'apprentissage, Frédéric vivra déconvenues, élans romantiques et changements de coeur. On ne s'y ennuie pas une seconde, certaines scènes sont éblouissantes de finesse, de beauté. J'avais le sentiment de me promener dans des tableaux de Poussin ou Ingres, de sentir le soleil entre les feuilles, d'entendre les ruisseaux ou les cris de colères des révolutionnaires.
J'ai eu tout de même bien du mal à m'attacher à Frédéric, il m'a souvent agacé par son inconsistance et son obsession de ses maitresses. En fait, tous les personnages, à l'exception de Louise, m'ont déplu. L'histoire elle-même ne m'a pas particulièrement intéresser non plus, et ce n'est pas du tout pour elle que j'ai apprécié ce roman, j'ai lu déjà plusieurs fois des histoires semblables chez Balzac du Zola, rien de neuf pour moi ici.
Non, ce qui m'a intéressé ce sont certaines scènes, la beauté de la description, la force de l'action, le cynisme ou l'humour critique de Flaubert, l'intelligence de sa plume aussi. Les notes rajoutaient un vrai plus à l'histoire, car elles donnaient des informations utiles sur les évènements historiques du livre, sur les incohérences ou les procédés d'écritures de l'auteur.
Pour finir, je dirais que je suis bien contente d'avoir écouté mes connaissances et que Flaubert ne me fait plus peur, je crois même que j'ai envie de lire ses autres textes !
Debería crear una estantería de “novelas incalificables”, en donde podría agregar todos esos libros que me resultaron arduos y que, al mismo tiempo, tienen una construcción y un trasfondo tan fenomenal que sería una completa desalmada si les pusiera una sola estrella. Noté que me sucedió con varias novelas francesas del mismo siglo. La educación sentimental me hizo sufrir, porque sus altibajos son incontables, los personajes son detestables y en ciertos momentos no hay nada por lo cual interesarse.
El argumento es sencillísimo y hasta les puede sonar parecido al de otras novelas. Moreau es el típico personaje provinciano que va a la ciudad para triunfar, algo que en esa época podría traducirse como “mantener varias amantes, rodearse de amigos más inteligentes y más poderosos que uno y conseguir un puesto de trabajo gracias a todos ellos”. La sociedad (preferiría utilizar la idea de Balzac en Papá Goriot porque me parece más exacta: el lodazal) está repleta de ellos. Y Moreau cumple con todas las condiciones, porque es un muchacho indeciso, se limita a pensar por imitación y vive arrastrado por las circunstancias. Esto no es un dato menor: la presencia del contexto histórico en esta novela es muy fuerte. Francia va camino a la Revolución de 1848 y la agitación política golpea a todos los personajes, a los cuales Flaubert les dio una posición tambaleante.
Todo lo que amé de La educación sentimental está situado en la tercera y última parte. No quiero contar demasiado, por supuesto, así que me limito a decir que Flaubert se lució. Tampoco quiero aburrir elogiando el narrador, pero podría definirlo a mi manera: explosivo, detallista y poco explicativo cuando quiere. Lo realmente genial está en cómo surgen las voces de los personajes sin abandonar la tercera persona (¡y ya en esa época!).
Mientras lo leía, llegué a preguntarme muchas veces cuál era el motivo principal de mi hastío, además de los que mencioné anteriormente. Creo que ya estaba cansada de los advenedizos al estilo Rastignac o Bel Ami, de la focalización en frivolidades, de las reuniones y fiestas en donde no ocurre nada, de la misoginia gratuita y los conflictos amorosos forzados. La historia de Moreau no es ni tan simpática ni tan intrigante como para terminar el libro en dos días. Si tuviera que recomendarlo, lo haría sólo por esos recursos técnicos que a mí tanto me gustan y por la genialidad de Flaubert para convertir argumentos soporíferos (aunque muy reales, por cierto) en una obra literaria respetable. Y subrayo, como siempre, que son apreciaciones e interpretaciones personales.
El argumento es sencillísimo y hasta les puede sonar parecido al de otras novelas. Moreau es el típico personaje provinciano que va a la ciudad para triunfar, algo que en esa época podría traducirse como “mantener varias amantes, rodearse de amigos más inteligentes y más poderosos que uno y conseguir un puesto de trabajo gracias a todos ellos”. La sociedad (preferiría utilizar la idea de Balzac en Papá Goriot porque me parece más exacta: el lodazal) está repleta de ellos. Y Moreau cumple con todas las condiciones, porque es un muchacho indeciso, se limita a pensar por imitación y vive arrastrado por las circunstancias. Esto no es un dato menor: la presencia del contexto histórico en esta novela es muy fuerte. Francia va camino a la Revolución de 1848 y la agitación política golpea a todos los personajes, a los cuales Flaubert les dio una posición tambaleante.
Todo lo que amé de La educación sentimental está situado en la tercera y última parte. No quiero contar demasiado, por supuesto, así que me limito a decir que Flaubert se lució. Tampoco quiero aburrir elogiando el narrador, pero podría definirlo a mi manera: explosivo, detallista y poco explicativo cuando quiere. Lo realmente genial está en cómo surgen las voces de los personajes sin abandonar la tercera persona (¡y ya en esa época!).
Mientras lo leía, llegué a preguntarme muchas veces cuál era el motivo principal de mi hastío, además de los que mencioné anteriormente. Creo que ya estaba cansada de los advenedizos al estilo Rastignac o Bel Ami, de la focalización en frivolidades, de las reuniones y fiestas en donde no ocurre nada, de la misoginia gratuita y los conflictos amorosos forzados. La historia de Moreau no es ni tan simpática ni tan intrigante como para terminar el libro en dos días. Si tuviera que recomendarlo, lo haría sólo por esos recursos técnicos que a mí tanto me gustan y por la genialidad de Flaubert para convertir argumentos soporíferos (aunque muy reales, por cierto) en una obra literaria respetable. Y subrayo, como siempre, que son apreciaciones e interpretaciones personales.
technically i didn't finish this but we don't need to talk about that
slow-paced
Mi-a plăcut foarte mult cartea, a apărut ca o rază de lumină în ultima vreme, căci am dat peste lecturi ciudate, stupide, unele chiar mediocre, precum cartea precedentă.
Destinul personajului principal, cât și imaginile detaliate ale decorului, întâmplările istorice, idilele amoroase și gândurile fiecărui personaj, împresurate pe parcursul narațiunii, creează o atmosferă relaxantă, plină de culori, făcând cititorul să savureze fiecare capitol, descriere, dialog. Recomand cu multă căldură acest roman în serile ploioase de toamnă sau de iarnă, cu o ceașcă de ceai negru și un cămin cald drept companie. :)
Destinul personajului principal, cât și imaginile detaliate ale decorului, întâmplările istorice, idilele amoroase și gândurile fiecărui personaj, împresurate pe parcursul narațiunii, creează o atmosferă relaxantă, plină de culori, făcând cititorul să savureze fiecare capitol, descriere, dialog. Recomand cu multă căldură acest roman în serile ploioase de toamnă sau de iarnă, cu o ceașcă de ceai negru și un cămin cald drept companie. :)
In Sentimental Education, Flaubert set out to write a generational novel, and he succeeded. What he probably didn’t know was that it holds up for future generations as well.
Featuring Frederic, the nice guy trope who isn’t nice after all (back when it couldn’t possibly be a trope), the plot is basically a young man chasing after an older, married woman he’s in love with, without doing any chasing. Because he belongs to one of my favorite categories: the doomed, inept character. His best friend, Deslauriers, is just the same, except he’s chasing something different. Often, their paths clash and they should by all rights hate each other, but they keep coming back together because they can’t stand for anything, like they can’t succeed in anything they (barely) set out to do.
I personally rooted for Frederic during the first two acts, still somewhat charmed by his naivety and his outstanding lack of self-awareness; and at least his love for Madame Arnoux seemed genuine, despite his inability to make it known to her, and his poor decisions that only bring her closer to her husband. But toward the end I found myself slowly giving up on him, not trusting him anymore, as it became clear he’s rather selfish and shallow—and a bit of sociopath—whilst still feeling bad for him.
If you like a coming-of-age story where the protagonist only screws up his life more every year, where he drags you down the bad turns he takes, where his love is not only unattainable, but it also appears more ridiculous as you read on, and where whether you ultimately feel bad for him or laugh at him along with the other characters is up to you, then you’ll like this book.
I should mention this story is told through some of the most stunning prose I’ve ever read—it’s Flaubert we’re talking about, after all. Somewhere inside the triangle of Realism, Romanticism, and Psychological. Some passages had me in awe, almost as much as Proust, and made me want to finally read Madame Bovary. French literature is quickly becoming my favorite. Oh, also, there’s the revolution of 1848 happening in the background; that plays a funny role. If you like Historical elements, there’s plenty here.
Featuring Frederic, the nice guy trope who isn’t nice after all (back when it couldn’t possibly be a trope), the plot is basically a young man chasing after an older, married woman he’s in love with, without doing any chasing. Because he belongs to one of my favorite categories: the doomed, inept character. His best friend, Deslauriers, is just the same, except he’s chasing something different. Often, their paths clash and they should by all rights hate each other, but they keep coming back together because they can’t stand for anything, like they can’t succeed in anything they (barely) set out to do.
I personally rooted for Frederic during the first two acts, still somewhat charmed by his naivety and his outstanding lack of self-awareness; and at least his love for Madame Arnoux seemed genuine, despite his inability to make it known to her, and his poor decisions that only bring her closer to her husband. But toward the end I found myself slowly giving up on him, not trusting him anymore, as it became clear he’s rather selfish and shallow—and a bit of sociopath—whilst still feeling bad for him.
If you like a coming-of-age story where the protagonist only screws up his life more every year, where he drags you down the bad turns he takes, where his love is not only unattainable, but it also appears more ridiculous as you read on, and where whether you ultimately feel bad for him or laugh at him along with the other characters is up to you, then you’ll like this book.
I should mention this story is told through some of the most stunning prose I’ve ever read—it’s Flaubert we’re talking about, after all. Somewhere inside the triangle of Realism, Romanticism, and Psychological. Some passages had me in awe, almost as much as Proust, and made me want to finally read Madame Bovary. French literature is quickly becoming my favorite. Oh, also, there’s the revolution of 1848 happening in the background; that plays a funny role. If you like Historical elements, there’s plenty here.
emotional
reflective
there are some novels that chew you up and spit you out. it is one of them. that also reminds me that i haven't finished yet "therese raquin" by emile zola. yeah, that's another one but more dangerous than this.
alright. this is the first book of this year that i have read. i tried to love this novel so much. it has interesting premises with sometimes interesting characters and sometimes dull characters. it has the tension in between loves, but those all become futile when i found myself lost in the maze of changes of scenes and sequences. this is the first time i am reading any flaubert, so i don't specifically know where it all went wrong. however, i found myself befuddled by the change of sequences and scenes. it interrupted my reading dividing my attention to follow what has happened after that. in a nutshell, there are multiple times i lost track with the novel's progression.
now, flaubert brought such a protagonist who is torn between love and his urge of political involvement. sometimes, the earlier theme caused the latter to happen. but, the one person i hated throughout the novel is monsieur jacques arnoux. i perhaps got it that through his character, flaubert wanted to show the immorality in human nature, and he succeeded. but, most of the times, he made me impatient with his erratic behaviour. there are many characters for whom you feel pity or sympathy but their presence unfolds the tragic side of the novel. however, this novel is multi-layered which also brings my last point of this discussion -- history.
the last two chapters in part three basically consist of few pages, but they are brilliant. the reason is that we can see the protagonist is alone for his early mistakes. in these two chapters, he talked to two persons. in the novel, basically, there are multiple characters talking or communicating but in part three, chapter six, he talks only to madame arnoux and in its chapter seven, he talks only to deslauriers (mild spoilers). so, when i finish the novel, i see that the protagonist, frederic becomes self-conscious with his fear of becoming a part of history. it's like he suddenly understood that he is a part of a novel, and he is written like he is a part of a history. this was ingenious from flaubert's side. flaubert, basically, wrote this novel to bring "the moral history of the men" of his generation. like i said before, this book deals with morality but also playing through side of politics and the hunger of power, this book delved more into the history where sadly frederic became a fossil of which he was afraid of.
alright. this is the first book of this year that i have read. i tried to love this novel so much. it has interesting premises with sometimes interesting characters and sometimes dull characters. it has the tension in between loves, but those all become futile when i found myself lost in the maze of changes of scenes and sequences. this is the first time i am reading any flaubert, so i don't specifically know where it all went wrong. however, i found myself befuddled by the change of sequences and scenes. it interrupted my reading dividing my attention to follow what has happened after that. in a nutshell, there are multiple times i lost track with the novel's progression.
now, flaubert brought such a protagonist who is torn between love and his urge of political involvement. sometimes, the earlier theme caused the latter to happen. but, the one person i hated throughout the novel is monsieur jacques arnoux. i perhaps got it that through his character, flaubert wanted to show the immorality in human nature, and he succeeded. but, most of the times, he made me impatient with his erratic behaviour. there are many characters for whom you feel pity or sympathy but their presence unfolds the tragic side of the novel. however, this novel is multi-layered which also brings my last point of this discussion -- history.
the last two chapters in part three basically consist of few pages, but they are brilliant. the reason is that we can see the protagonist is alone for his early mistakes. in these two chapters, he talked to two persons. in the novel, basically, there are multiple characters talking or communicating but in part three, chapter six, he talks only to madame arnoux and in its chapter seven, he talks only to deslauriers (mild spoilers). so, when i finish the novel, i see that the protagonist, frederic becomes self-conscious with his fear of becoming a part of history. it's like he suddenly understood that he is a part of a novel, and he is written like he is a part of a history. this was ingenious from flaubert's side. flaubert, basically, wrote this novel to bring "the moral history of the men" of his generation. like i said before, this book deals with morality but also playing through side of politics and the hunger of power, this book delved more into the history where sadly frederic became a fossil of which he was afraid of.
Quels mots pour décrire ce bouquin? Je ne sais. Ravissant, drôle, triste, indifférent, dur, calleux, ironique. Ça ne suffit pas.
slow-paced