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5.0étoiles sur 5
A Contrast of Genius, or: Bright Lights, Big City, Mars 16 2004
Alongside his current and future contemporaries, Victor Hugo and Marcel Proust, Honore de Balzac is considered to be the preeminent French author of the 19th century. Fabulous, larger-than-life, Balzac was a man of fertile talent and extreme contrasts, whose proficiency with the pen was matched only by his prolificacy of his appetites. A clown, a genius, a glutton and a monk: Balzac burned brightly with the Promethean Gift, and left behind an enormous body of work - some ninety-two novels - all loosely interconnected in theme and character(s). To accomplish this, he worked manic-style from the hours of midnight to six in the morning, scribbling furiously by candlelight and swilling copious amounts of black coffee, retaining the sexual urge tantric-style while cultivating a reputation as a ladies' man and legendary great lover (. . . as I said, a man of extreme contrasts). The eventually result of this effort is entitled Le Comedie Humaine [The Human Comedy], an almost-encyclopaedic opus that paints a relatively accurate portrait of Balzac's time and setting - a true French *milieu* - and easily compares to the output of his literary contemporaries, by way of both qualitative exertion and sheer talent.*Lost Illusions* chronicles the trials and triumphs of two potential geniuses, Lucien Rubempre and David Sechard, men of steadfast friendship, common ideal and altogether differing personality. Lucien is the handsome, debonair poet-dreamer, a wordsmith-wannabe of vast ambition and dubious moral fortitude, who envisions all existence bound up in the invisible perimeters of "art" to the exclusion of pressing realities; this leads, of course, to the misery and consternation of those of his closest intimacy. David, in contrast, is a plain, hard working, abstract-thinking inventor, the simpleton-savant forced to endure continual ridicule and poverty as he strives to streamline certain basic elements of the printing business for the benefit of future generations. The contrasting development of these two men - for better and for worse - reveals the true path one must take (i.e. disciplined WORK), and the many temptations one should avoid (sloth, sensual over-abandonment, sham-intellectualism), in finding culmination for the burgeoning talent, in realizing and applying the genius-drive. . . at least according to Balzac's not-so-humble opinion. The novel begins very much like most 19th century literature, with the first fifty or so pages devoted almost exclusively to describing the environment in which the forthcoming drama shall ensue, and in detailing the history and general character of the main participants therein. These necessities thus scribed, Balzac launches into the narrative with his usual vigor: his technique includes a slow-boil development of tension/conflict; a scathing portrayal of the high society; reflective asides and cultural digressions; humorous episodes coupled with a smattering of violence, the latter element confined mostly to the psychological. This structure is common to a Balzac novel, and in *Lost Illusions* it is achieved with page-turning skill; even when the pace flags, the infectious energy implicit in the text and overall construction helps to buoy the reader across Balzac's vast, oceanic theme-excursions. To be honest, *Lost Illusions* is one of those books where, paradoxically, 'the less said the better;' it is so good that, in my opinion, its delights and secret treasures should be discovered by the innocent, diligent reader - the eventual impact of the novel becoming all the greater. But I suppose a few tidbits are necessary for this sort of review...thus: Fed up with being a tortured poet among philistines, Lucien Rebempre leaves the small-town constraints of his native Angouleme for the bright lights and big city splendor of gay Paree. There he is quickly seduced by the glittering illusions of bourgeois society, and almost as quickly thrown down to languish amidst the common rabble. For some time our 'hero' pines and abstract-pontificates, juggling his dream of artistic immortality with the more immediate desire for monetary wealth/social recognition, slowly but ever-so-surely capitulating toward the fantasy-chimera of the latter. Lucien, with his flower sonnets and unfinished manuscript _An Archer of Charles IX_, begins his 'quest' as a fresh-faced, starry-eyed enthusiast of human potential; in short, a typical example of naïve ambition as yet unhampered by the crushing weight of repeat-failure and/or the angst-miasma of the cynical perspective. Lucien's eventual abandonment of the higher ideals of art for the quick fame of journalism seems almost inevitable given his unstable character, and it gives the author unrestrained motive to rant and rave, via literary form. It is obvious that Balzac, who toiled in the fickle trade of news-shaping for some considerable time, had an axe to grind; and his blow-by-blow critique of the business - its hypocrisies, desperations, vacant platitudes and absolute corruption - is all the more affecting because it is witnessed by the demoralized, disillusioned Lucien: his 'quest' has taken him from the Elysian Fields of "pure" Glory to the sordid pits of a fraudulent Hell, a vast, soulless Perdition for the artistically condemned. Indisputably one of Balzac's finest novels, *Lost Illusions* is where the casual reader should venture after reading *Pere Goirot* and possibly *The Black Sheep*. Balzac's characters often reappear, in some form or another, over the course of his opus: principle to this volume are the roguish personalities of Rastignac and Vautrin/Jacque Collins, both of which are introduced in *Pere Goirot*. The former is somewhat inconsequential to the novel as a whole, but the latter arrives at a fortuitous moment, afflicts a massive change to one of the leading protagonists, and comes to dominate *Lost Illusion*'s inferior sequel, *A Harlot High and Low*. His speech about mankind and its necessary illusions - in itself a harrowing disillusionment to the already shattered reader-participant - culminates all of Balzac's themes, digressions, character arcs: he tells it like it is in a fashion that few authors of this era dare dream - or even conceive - of attempting. Highly Recommended.
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5.0étoiles sur 5
Sacre bleu, the man can write!, Fév 26 2002
As much as I enjoyed Pere Goriot, Lost Illusions is the kind of a literary work that lets you peer into the soul of a great mind and dwell there. Just as Lucien was Balzac, the lost poet, David Sechard, the printer, is also Balzac the craftsman in real life: he bought a print shop in Paris to print his own novels. Sechard is much like the scientist in the Quest of the Absolute, except that David ultimately finds himself through his invention and the inventor in The Quest becomes lost to his own monomania. As Balzac wrote of Lucien: "He's not a poet, this young man: he's a serial novel." And so it's time to find out what happens to Lucien after this novel in his return to Paris. The characters of his novels keep reappearing in scenes from one novel to the next, which is wonderful. However, they seem to change as one sees them through different eyes. Delightful young Rastignac in Pere Goriot becomes a rather unscrupulous mean-spirited character in Lost Illusions. Balzac has built an entire society of his characters and as varied as they are, they are all also him and show the great diversity and depth of his personality and sensitivity. Like Galsworthy, Balzac wanted to build an interconnected society of characters who are so human that it's easy to understand why they behave as they do. The realism is striking and magnificent and always rings true. Balzac works hard despite the realism to spin out of every hardship a redemption and out of every malignity a comic side that's all too human. The comedy and irony are rich in Balzac in his passionate account of life in Paris in high society and the challenges that it thrusts upon every ideal. This is the best work of Balzac that I have read so far out of four novels of his. It's such great writing, and the energy of the translator can make a difference, that Balzac keeps one coming back for more. But the writing and wit and wisdom are so extraordinary, I am happy to accommodate him. Anyone who has ever aspired to write and publish prose in New York will identify with Blazac's Lucien: Lost Illusions is a novel that aspiring writers especially may find intriguing.
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5.0étoiles sur 5
"Kokomo Kid Comes a Cropper in Big Smoke", Mai 29 2001
Balzac was one of the best writers of the 19th century, he is France's greatest novelist in my opinion, and one of the best who ever lived. LOST ILLUSIONS is perhaps his greatest work, one of the great novels of world literature. With statements like these, you better believe I'm not going to pan this book. I first read it in Thailand back in 1984---the sense of contrast between my physical and mental surroundings at the time was like sugar and chilli pepper. I recently reread it and found it just as good.I like novels that give me a sense of time and place. Balzac, unlike many great authors, set out to give his readers exactly that. The vast sweep of French, and more particularly, Parisian society, that he depicts in "The Human Comedy"---the varied series of novels by other names that he wrote over his relatively short lifetime---cannot but amaze any reader. "Old Goriot", "Cousin Bette", "The History of the Thirteen", "Eugenie Grandet" and others are wonderful books, but I would say that this is his best. Balzac investigates everything; no detail is too unimportant. In the present work, we learn about the petty intrigues of provincial society, paper making, the printing business, the theater, journalism, Paris high society, the book trade, the legal profession, Paris styles and that's just a start. Where Tolstoy described the early 19th century Russian upper class with romance, philosophy, and general benevolence, Balzac writes with cynicism and a down-to-earth realism. We meet snobs, idiots, geniuses, knaves, priests, poets, politicians, intellectuals, misers, wastrels, whores, rogues, lechers, dandies, and ambitious businessmen of all kinds. Natasha never goes to a ball wide-eyed and innocent in Balzac. At 682 pages, LOST ILLUSIONS is not a quick read, but you will savor every page. The plot does not get bogged down in description either, but keeps you wondering right up to the last page. There are actually two stories that dovetail neatly. Two young men full of ambition go in opposite directions. One opts for the easy road of flash and fashion, making good impressions with the right people, the other for the lonely, penurious road of hard work as an inventor. The stories separate as Lucien Chardon, the would-be poet, goes to Paris, and David Séchard stays in their provincial hometown. They join again when Lucien comes home in defeat, and the ending is a surprise turn. LOST ILLUSIONS, to me, is nearly a perfect novel, both entertaining and informative. Balzac makes the world of France in the early 1820s come alive---you can almost taste the oysters, you feel the pulse of a society desperate for life and pleasure after a generation of war. You can grasp the full meaning of the word "provincialism". If you have any taste for classical literature, don't miss this book ! When I measure novels, this one of the handful which I use as my measuring stick.
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