Forgiving Anna and Emma (Tolstoi and Flaubert)

Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary each tell the respective (unhappy) story of women in marriage. The writing of such stories is indicative of the deeper development of female characters, and indeed, the acknowledgement that women are also capable of independent thought (as well as the obligatory service of their husband). The act of adultery means different things in different societies, so both these stories are often reinterpreted to fit in with popular trends - e.g. Madame Bovary is sometimes seen as a feminist triumph, the realisation of the female sexual desire that exists beyond the satisfaction of men.

Despite the loaded issues that form the focus of each story, it should probably be kept in mind that neither author is out to make a point. Anna Karenina, written during the realist era, seeks as much to give the reader an insight into late 19th century Russia, its society and decor, as it does to make its many observations concerning happiness and how we ought to live. Flaubert, known for abhoring high-society and its excess, makes no indigtment against Emma Bovary, as either a product of this society or as an adulterous wife. We are rather presented the lives of two women and those around them, complicated with many happinesses and unhappinesses along the way.

In reading Anna Karenina, I guess I began by making this mistake, and focusing on how Tolstoi was supposed to justify the actions of Anna. A woman, with a boring and unappreciative husband is seduced by a pretentious git. She doesn't deserve sympathy - she's an idiot. Of course, what becomes apparent is that happiness is so complicated. We are brought up expecting that things should fall into place, but nothing does and we are given insufficient resources to cope with the fall-out. The tragedy in Anna's case, is that she has an unrealistic faith in men to protect her from the society they drag her into.

Madame Bovary is a much more complex story, affected as it is by unmistakable mental illness. Similarly to Anna, Emma is married off with expectations that children, happiness and balls will ensue. This may not be an accepted reading, however what seems to happen is that the disillusionment with her marriage triggers a depressive episode, which later develops into what could possibly be Bipolar disorder. Madame Bovary becomes fixated on a friend of her husband, risking so much to see him and neglecting her baby and husband. At times, the love of M. Bovary is again recognized, however she is becoming more and more unstable as an individual.

The difficult thing to deal with in this story, is the confusion and difficulty faced by Emma's husband. He adores her, but is oblivious to the thought that she could act any other way than how she intends. Responsibility, agency and thought behind one's actions characterises any framework of ethics that exists today (and indeed has for a long time), so the thought that anyone around us could be acting against their desires and outside responsibility is not one we accept - not that we should accept it, but this means that such cases of mental illness become that much harder to deal with from the outside - because we can't reconcile someone's actions with who they seem to be.

A particularly powerful observation made here is that M. Bovary is so tentative around his wife, he wants to hold her and comfort her and make her happy, but he is afraid of how she will respond. This captures well that mixture of fear and longing that one faces when seeing someone experience this sort of difficulty (whether it's mental illness, drug addiction etc).

In a way, it felt like Madame Bovary contained everything important that was in Anna Karenina (and only a third the size), however that may be because Anna Karenina has many religious excursions as Tolstoi attempts to reassert the importance of God in 19th century europe. It certainly didn't excite me to go out and read War and Peace as quickly as possible.

Both books deserve to be read.

something mean about Milan Kundera

Milan Kundera is nothing short of amazing - in this book anyway - i've read other stories, such as Identity, where this amazingness is perhaps questionable. The most attractive thing about Unbearable Lightness of Being is the exploration of Nietzschean writing and philosophy. The author takes time out to discuss Nietzsche (sometimes from characters' perspectives, sometimes the narrator's) which feels like something one shouldn't be able to do but which is great. It carries the danger of making the story inaccessible, or too diffracted (think Sartre's Nausea) but I am confident that he does it well. As well as the Nietzschean excursions, Kundera also likes literary excursions, discussing the plot of Anna Karenina and the meaning of coincidence in literature and hence life. Particularly emotive, is the image of Tereza, the unappreciated wife, carrying Anna Karenina under her arm, almost like a security blanket as she embarks on an out of character affair. She is afraid, and clings to the book, thinking that since this guy has it on his shelf, it must be okay. It really is quite sad... which brings me to what I think I don't like about Kundera, although I can't say I'm sure.

It feels like this book is trying to challenge the reader's sense of goodwill. Like - there's nothing philosophically wrong about infidelity, if people are badly affected by it that's their own problem. The book is trying to promote this "lightness" where we don't have to carry the burdens of action, the heaviness of others' emotions and our own regrets - and I just don't buy it. It feels all too much like an excuse for being an apathetic person. Similar criticisms exist about The Outsider, I guess, however although society's values are challenged there, the human experiences is not. In discussing this with my friends, I think I usually lose the argument - and that what Kundera purports may indeed be the truth of the matter. Some sympathy is shown for Tereza, having to deal with her husband's hair constantly smelling like vaginal juices (this is the part of the book the friend who gave it to me kept asking if I was up to), however the sympathy seems contrived and inauthentic. I was probably reading this at a bad time as well, when these issues would have been particularly annoying to deal with.

To the discussion of coincidence, which I did love: the story of Anna Karenina is summarised through its beginning and end, namely the recurring theme of the train. Kundera here, gets in touch with our sense of sentiment and our desire to see things symbolically. We can attribute importance to coincidences, symbols etc., not from any suggestion of a higher being (God wanted me to see this... etc.), but rather, since it's there, it plays a role in our psyche. I might meet a girl who I fall in love with on the train, and she may not have talked to me if I'd not been reading Kafka - so I project meaning onto Kafka, onto books, and the love is in turn tied to a sense that Kafka is special. There's no transcendental meaning it, but some secret promise is shared between hearts - something like that.

So yes, Kundera, good, but I'm not sure I like him. There's definitely something post-modern about him, and perhaps I prefer something where meaning is still important.