Madame Bovary
By Gustave Flaubert Translated by Alan Russell
Penguin Books, 1950
Until I read Madame Bovary, I imagined that the late 20th and early 21st centuries were the quintessential example of a cynical populace, but Gustave Flaubert has proven that extreme cynicism was alive and well in early 19th century France. Perhaps he was not typical of his age, however, as his ill health prevented him from pursuing his studies as a lawyer in Paris, relegating him to a life in the provinces. On the surface, that seems like a cause for bitterness, but it enabled him to work on his writing without the tedium of having to earn a living. It also explains why he was able to write detailed descriptions of the landscape and daily routines of the people with such unerring realism that the reader is able to overcome their incredulity at the scandalous actions of Madame Bovary which, in reality, would have been quite beyond the bounds of possibility in a small village ruled by bourgeois sensibilities. His description of his patient’s bedroom is so detailed that the reader accepts its authenticity without question:
Two places were laid with silver drinking mugs, at the foot of
a big four-poster bed draped with a figured calico depicting
some Turks. From the tall oak wardrobe facing the window came
an odour of iris and damp sheets. Some sacks of wheat stood
in the corners – the overflow from the granary, which led out
of the room up three stone steps. In the middle of the wall, whose
green paint was flaking off with the saltpetre, the room was
adorned with the head of Minerva drawn in black pencil, hung
up on a nail, in a gilt frame, with underneath it in Gothic lettering,
the words, ‘To dear Papa.’ (28)
It is with such richly detailed realism that Flaubert is able to disarm the reader into believing this unlikely tale of a woman who is able to cuckold her loving husband not once, but multiple times. Added to the cynicism of our own age towards love, it is not surprising that a modern reader would not be shocked by Flaubert’s view of love as a force that diminishes and corrupts both the good and the evil in society. Probably the most overriding message in this novel is that human beings can justify anything they do and that is especially evident in the self-interested way they conduct themselves in matters of the heart. Instead of accepting the consequences of our actions, like Madame Bovary, we are more inclined to justify them. This theme is reinforced in the amusing letter written to Madame Bovary by one of her lovers, Rodolphe, who justified his betrayal of her love by pretending his cowardly disappearance was a selfless sacrifice to save her from social ostracism. His betrayal was really an act of ‘penance for all the harm’ he had caused her, by allowing their relationship to grow. He insisted that is was not a rejection of her charms, the remembrance of which would remain to torture him forever, but that was the price he was prepared to pay to save her from social suicide. Human nature hasn’t changed a bit. Self-justification remains our strongest suit.
Love is not the only aspect of society that is flayed by Flaubert’s cynicism. He is also critical of what people will do – even those in respectable positions such as the chemist – in order to further their social station and professional status. Even the good doctor, for all his deep and abiding love for Emma, is depicted as inept and incapable of discerning his wife’s disdain. Moreover, he is willing to hand over his financial responsibilities to her which leads to his family’s demise in society. The medical profession is exposed for its ignorance and arrogance in treating both physical and psychological ailments. One can’t help wondering about Flaubert’s relationship with his father who was a doctor. To what extent were these themes a result of his observations of his father, or perhaps influenced by his own experience as one with a mystery illness that prevented him from pursuing his career as a lawyer. There is no end to the cynicism embedded in this tale from beginning to end.
Like F. Scott Fitzgerald, in the The Great Gatsby, Flaubert also made it clear that the moral decay of his age was not limited to one strata of society or one profession. At the end of the novel, good and bad, richer and poorer, have all fallen into the dark ditches they dug for themselves. The ambition of Homais, the chemist, is realized when he is awarded the Legion of Honour. This is Flaubert’s final statement of disgusted condemnation of his society. A society that would honour this man, he infers, deserves the depth of his cynicism and it is a society that is without hope of restoration to true honour and a noble moral foundation. His despair was reinforced by the debates about Protestant and Catholic perspectives, in contrast to Fitzgerald whose society, by the 1920’s, is depicted as completely godless and driven only by a love of money.
Though the time and place are far removed from our context, sadly Flaubert’s observations of human nature, love, and our institutions continue to be borne out in our own society. This novel is still instructive and will cause you to reflect on how we can become wiser and more ethical in our personal, familial and communal relationships and social institutions.