madame bovary

"Her journey to Vaubyessard had made a hole in her life...She devoutly put away in her drawers her beautiful dress, down to the satin shoes whose soles were yellowed with the slippery wax of the dancing floor.  Her heart was like these.  In its friction against wealth something had come over it that could not be affected."
  Gustave Flaubert

In its day, the classic novel, Madame Bovary was considered quite obscene.  The book and its author were even hauled  into court, though later acquitted.  In 1856 to write about adultery in such a way, or probably in any way was outrageous.  I picked it up a couple of weeks ago after listening to Pat Conroy speak of it in his own work, My Reading Life.  I'm glad I did.  

In the passage above, following the night of a ball Emma Bovary attends, Flaubert weaves a rich tapestry of carefully textured words that foreshadow the tale he is about to tell.  When I read it I remembered when I was a girl, and believed that circumstances, people, and possessions outside the scope of what was familiar and available to my life could make me happy - could make me enough.  It was hard for me to learn differently.  As I watched Emma "devoutly" put away her beautiful dress and slippers and resign herself to her perceived less-than life,  I suspected this girl was in deep trouble - that she would have a hard time of it...

In 1856, I suppose people were afraid that a book like this would encourage bad behaving, but that would only make this story a trashy read, and great tragedies seldom are - and what of our own stories?  How could  Emma know that the hole in her life was there long before the trip to Vaubyessard?  How could she fathom that her envious heart would soon be filled with contempt, and even disregard for her own child as she sought solace and understanding in the arms of another lover?  How could she live such a life of delusion and deceive herself about what surely lay ahead?

I wondered about some things as I read this book...like... how old was Emma Bovary when she married, and why didn't the author provide friendships with other women for her  inside the story - was it because he was male and failed to understand the importance of these kinds of relationships?  I wondered if friendship could have saved her...

 I love this about reading and about books.  I am continually intrigued by the tap on my shoulder when the writer's words find their place deep in my being or send my mind down trails of inquiry.  I value the truth that sometimes feels uncomfortable, comes at me sideways, and stays long after the last page is turned.  Lately I have longed to read all the classics I missed in the first part of my life.  It's quite interesting to read a story that you've only heard about, and form your own opinions.  As I spent time with this book, I asked myself - what makes a classic endure?  Perhaps it is the response from readers to writing that so masterfully evokes and appeals to themes that are  common and timeless in all human beings - to me, Madame Bovary is that.