A review by rbreade
The Red and the Black by Stendhal

Published in 1830, just as the French aristocracy's post-Napoleon restoration of monarchical rule collapsed beneath its own corrupt weight, The Red and the Black showcases the strength and weakness of 19th century omniscient narration, complete with occasional direct address of the reader. This technique allows Stendahl to bring huge swaths of French life into the novel, commenting on everything from aristocratic jockeying for better titles, e.g., marquis, baron, duke, to the petit bourgeoisie's ability to make money in this venal system and the usual suffering of the poor when the rich don't see them and in fact don't care to so long as money continues to be transferred upward into their coffers.

The weakness of such psychic distance in point of view is that the reader rarely feels moved by what's happening to the characters, even though he or she may be highly interested. The protagonist, Julien Sorel, is a poor carpenter's son with a king-sized chip on his shoulder. His prodigious memory and knowledge of Latin opens doors into first a provincial mayor's household and then a Parisian marquis's, each time as a tutor to the children. He seduces the mayor's wife and the marquis's daughter, by turns, and is an enthralling portrait of a social climber who continues to struggle, with himself and Restoration society, for respect. This is a complex portrait, as well, because I found myself constantly asking, "What is it that Julien wants? What will finally make him happy?" Stendahl suggests it is impossible to pursue happiness without reference to the opinion of society, and this is just one of the layers that make the book satisfying.

However, I never felt moved by Julien's tribulations, not even by his spectacular and puzzling death. Omniscience maintains too much distance for that to happen. Stendahl did not have recourse to free indirect speech, which had just been "invented" by Jane Austen, probably as part of her natural approach to writing, and which would not be consciously referred to until Flaubert honed it twenty-some years later. Free indirect would have allowed Stendahl to modulate his omniscience, moving in closer to the individual psyches, thought patterns, and vocabularies of his characters, and so bringing the reader much closer to the heart of the action, making us feel the sense of betrayal of the mayor's wife when Julien moves on to the marquis's daughter, or Julien's constant craving for success and respect.

All said, this is also a witty book, very funny, as Stendahl mercilessly reveals the Restoration for a long exercise in greed, vanity, and the criminal self-absorption of an entire class of people.