Review: Lost Illusions
Review: Lost Illusions [Illusions perdues] by Honoré de Balzac. Translated by Kathleen Raine.
A reader who has never read Balzac before but is interested in following the collection La Comédie humaine would do better, I think, to begin with Le Père Goriot. I am of the mindset that Le Père Goriot is infinitely easier to get through, and the characters far more sympathetic. However, Illusions perdues manages to take what Balzac began with in Le Père Goriot and go further, deeper, and dirtier. Parisian life is displayed in an unsympathetic light as incorrigibly corrupt, where loyalty falters in the face of ambition.
The protagonist of the book, one Lucien Chardon, who fancies himself M. Lucien de Rubempré, is very much an overgrown, spoiled child. He is beautiful, impressionable, and foolish. He carries himself on dreams and poetry and relies on his intrinsic understanding that other people will take care of him, for he is lovely and charming and innocent. His adorable mannerisms, however, are counteracted by his utter ignorance of the dark depths of society. Though he falls despairingly lower and lower, he is not easily pitiable, as his undoing was entirely his own.
The sympathetic characters we do find are that of his sister, the lovely Eve, and her husband and Lucien’s best friend, David Séchard. The young couple are hard-working, but find themselves continually at the mercy of others. David’s father is a greedy, overbearing man who denies his son any financial assistance, believing that any aid will somehow weaken his noble son, and therefore denying his own avarice. In the beginning of the novel, Old Séchard sells his printing establishment to his son for far more than it’s worth, and leaves him to work things out for himself. David soon finds himself impoverished due to the underhanded business maneuvers played by the Cointet brothers, the proprietors of the only other printing establishment in Angouleme.
David and Eve’s sorrow is left behind during the middle of the book, to be replaced by Lucien’s attempts at gaining entry into high society in Paris. Lucien’s mobility in the fashionable world is very much like a long, drawn-out gamble, with desperate failures mitigated by prosperous successes. But the tides change for Lucien, his childishness weakens him, and he finds he cannot survive in Paris. He becomes the folly of David and Eve, and when at last his negligence causes the arrest of David, Lucien leaves his home in despair.
Here at last is where my favorite character makes his entry, in the final pages of the novel. Readers of Le Père Goriot will recognize the Spanish priest Herrerra under another name, in an altogether very different guise. Lucien’s fall into the mud of society is complete under this man’s tutelage.
Lost Illusions is a wonderful two-sided mirror displaying the underbellies of both Parisian society and provincial life. At times, Balzac forces the reader into pages and pages of French politics or business matters or law, perhaps in order to cement the realism genre of the novel. These lengthy and, admittedly, somewhat boring passages, I found, could be skimmed over for the reader who prefers the action of the plot to lessons in 19th century France.
My best suggestion would be to read it slowly, and not to be too hard on Lucien. He is what circumstances made him.
A reader who has never read Balzac before but is interested in following the collection La Comédie humaine would do better, I think, to begin with Le Père Goriot. I am of the mindset that Le Père Goriot is infinitely easier to get through, and the characters far more sympathetic. However, Illusions perdues manages to take what Balzac began with in Le Père Goriot and go further, deeper, and dirtier. Parisian life is displayed in an unsympathetic light as incorrigibly corrupt, where loyalty falters in the face of ambition.
The protagonist of the book, one Lucien Chardon, who fancies himself M. Lucien de Rubempré, is very much an overgrown, spoiled child. He is beautiful, impressionable, and foolish. He carries himself on dreams and poetry and relies on his intrinsic understanding that other people will take care of him, for he is lovely and charming and innocent. His adorable mannerisms, however, are counteracted by his utter ignorance of the dark depths of society. Though he falls despairingly lower and lower, he is not easily pitiable, as his undoing was entirely his own.
The sympathetic characters we do find are that of his sister, the lovely Eve, and her husband and Lucien’s best friend, David Séchard. The young couple are hard-working, but find themselves continually at the mercy of others. David’s father is a greedy, overbearing man who denies his son any financial assistance, believing that any aid will somehow weaken his noble son, and therefore denying his own avarice. In the beginning of the novel, Old Séchard sells his printing establishment to his son for far more than it’s worth, and leaves him to work things out for himself. David soon finds himself impoverished due to the underhanded business maneuvers played by the Cointet brothers, the proprietors of the only other printing establishment in Angouleme.
David and Eve’s sorrow is left behind during the middle of the book, to be replaced by Lucien’s attempts at gaining entry into high society in Paris. Lucien’s mobility in the fashionable world is very much like a long, drawn-out gamble, with desperate failures mitigated by prosperous successes. But the tides change for Lucien, his childishness weakens him, and he finds he cannot survive in Paris. He becomes the folly of David and Eve, and when at last his negligence causes the arrest of David, Lucien leaves his home in despair.
Here at last is where my favorite character makes his entry, in the final pages of the novel. Readers of Le Père Goriot will recognize the Spanish priest Herrerra under another name, in an altogether very different guise. Lucien’s fall into the mud of society is complete under this man’s tutelage.
Lost Illusions is a wonderful two-sided mirror displaying the underbellies of both Parisian society and provincial life. At times, Balzac forces the reader into pages and pages of French politics or business matters or law, perhaps in order to cement the realism genre of the novel. These lengthy and, admittedly, somewhat boring passages, I found, could be skimmed over for the reader who prefers the action of the plot to lessons in 19th century France.
My best suggestion would be to read it slowly, and not to be too hard on Lucien. He is what circumstances made him.