Madame Bovary was a landmark book in the ways it blended romanticism and realism. Yet, its author, Gustave Flaubert despised the minutiae of everyday life, as well as the traditions and morals of society. The story of his life and how he, who despised realism, came to write a monumental novel of realism, is particularly interesting.
Francis Steegmuller wrote his classic biography Flaubert and Madame Bovary, which he calls a “double portrait,” in 1939. There were plenty of things I didn’t like, but this mostly was because of Gustave Flaubert himself. Mr. Steegmuller’s inclusion of lots of M. Flaubert’s personal correspondence gives the reader a better understanding of the author himself. I found this a great way to give the reader a feel for the author’s personality and his writing style. I’m glad I read Mr. Steegmuller biography before I begin rereading M. Flaubert’s most popular novel.
Romanticism versus Realism
Because I’m not a professional literary critic or reviewer, I felt the need to reference my handy Harmon and Holman Handbook to Literature (7th edition) for some more context to M. Flaubert’s position in literary history. In his biography, Mr. Steegmuller regularly referred to M. Flaubert as a romantic writer writing realism as an experiment, and although I have a general idea about the two types of writing, I wondered what the “official” definitions were.
It turns out that romanticism, at least, has a pretty loose definition. In general, romanticism was “freeing of the artist and writer from restraints and rules” and “the predominance of imagination over reason.”
The term designates a literary and philosophical theory that tends to see the individual at the center of all life, and it places the individual, therefore, at the center of art, making literature valuable as an expression of unique feelings and particular attitudes and valuing its fidelity in portraying experiences, however fragmentary and incomplete, more than it values adherence to completeness, unique or the demands of genre.1
I think of Alexandre Dumas when I think of French romanticism.
On the other hand, realism is the describing of the details of everyday life. I think of Zola and Balzac. Neither of which I loved reading last year.2
The materials [realist writers] elect to describe are the common, the average, the everyday. Furthermore, realism can be thought of as the ultimate of middle-class art, and it finds it subjects in bourgeois life and manners.3
Romanticism and realism are pretty much what I thought they were. But I decided to include the definitions for my future reference, in case I find myself wondering again.
Reading about M. Flaubert’s life was not particularly fun. In my opinion, M. Flaubert seemed a particularly nasty individual. He despised the (in Holden Caufield’s words) “phoniness” of the bourgeoisie, of which he was a part. This included the morals imposed by society, which likewise disgusted him.
The contempt he had always had for the bourgeois he now extended to the entire human race, for “the bourgeoisie now is all of humanity, including the people.” 4
He believed in few things beyond himself and his friends, including that life was meant to be enjoyed. In short, from my perspective, Flaubert was selfish and self-centered. Although this made him a bit slimy in my mind, it certainly made him a unique character.
When he heard the true story which Madame Bovary is based on and decided to write a novel about the story, he thought it a great chance to paint “a scathing picture of the bourgeois.”5 He certainly wasn’t distracted by any morals or social constraints. Toward the beginning of his relationship with the married Louise Colet, he expressed this:
The word “adultery” had seemed to him the most beautiful of human words, vaguely enveloped with an exquisite sweetness, fragrant with a peculiar magic, full of a supreme poetry compounded of voluptuousness and blasphemy.” 6
This is the man who wrote Madame Bovary. One can see his own personality in the novel.7 When people asked him who was his model for Emma Bovary, he’d always say “Madame Bovary — C’est moi!” Mr. Steegmuller indicates that the novel was his ultimate expression of M. Flaubert’s self: in M. Flaubert’s words, he had “les deux sexes.”8
M. Flaubert wrote for nearly five years, and he had the entire novel outlined from the beginning. In politically repressive 1850s France, he was taken to court over some anti-religious and anti-moral aspects of the novel. It was criticized in the beginning, at times for being too unrealistic (no one wanted to admit there were adulteresses in their midst) and at others for being too realistic. Contemptuous M. Flaubert quickly tired of the novel, and especially given that he despised realism, he later wanted to burn all copies of the novel he could find. He did not want to be a poster child of realism.
I’m curious what I’ll find as I read Madame Bovary carefully this week. Will the realism stand out, or the romantic side? Will I sense Flaubert’s disgust of society?
M. Flaubert wrote this insight at one point during the lengthy writing process.
What I should like to write is a book about nothing at all, a book which would exist by virtue of the mere internal strength of its style, as the earth holds itself unsupported in the air – a book which would have almost no subject or in which, at least, the subject would be almost imperceptible, if such a thing is possible. The finest books are those which have the least subject matter; the more closely the expression approximates the thought, the more beautiful the book is.9
If you’ve read Madame Bovary, what do you think? Did Flaubert capture “nothing at all” and carry it by his distinct style?
As I mentioned, Mr. Steegmuller relies heavily on the correspondence and journals that M. Flaubert wrote. About a third of the 350-page biography is direct quotes from M. Flaubert’s writing (of which he was the translator). Rather than being odd, it was a wonderful technique. I really felt I knew Gustave Flaubert and his struggles, and I got a sense of his own voice, even before I’ve begun rereading the novel.
I found this book when I was browsing the NYRB Classics catalogue, and I was intrigued. I’m glad I read it. It was an interesting portrait of the era in literature and the unique man who wrote an innovative novel in the 1850s. It also was an important look in to the writing process.
- Harmon and Holman, “Romanticism,” page 452-453 ↩
- I “enjoyed” them well enough, but I’m not keen to read more by either author. But I have a Zola on a book club list later this year, so I’m stuck giving in another try. Let’s hope it’s a better experience. ↩
- Harmon and Holman, “Realism,” page 428 ↩
- Steegmuller, page 278 ↩
- Steegmuller, page 229 ↩
- Steegmuller, page 63 ↩
- I haven’t read it for a few years, but I certainly look forward to it now! I hope it’s not a spoiler to mention that there is adultery in Madame Bovary… ↩
- Steegmuller, page 342 ↩
- Flaubert writing to Louise Colet in the 1850s, quoted in Steegmuller, page 247 ↩