Cousin Bette

Great copy of a classic

A remarkably bitter tale of patient malice from the pen of a master realist. Dashed off in a mere two months in 1946, Balzac drew on the extensive cast of his La Comédie Humaine opus of novels to pepper into this battle between classes and sexes in mid 19th century Paris. The title character, Lisbeth Fisher, bitterly resents the successes of her relatives, the Hulot family, who were ardent Bonapartistes under the ancien régime. Now the venerable Hulots are enmeshed in the materialistic machinations of a craven bourgeoisie, whose ambitions, embodied in the immoral person of Valerie Marneffe, will stop at nothing to achieve fortune and status. The novel is remarkable for being almost obsessively concerned with money. Personal bank accounts and sums of cash are mentioned on almost every page. At one point, the virtuous Baroness Hulot (a problematic symbol of wifely self-sacrifice by today's scruples) asks her doctor: ''What has caused this widespread social evil?' 'Lack of religion,' replied the doctor, 'and the encroachment on everything of finance, which is just another name for organized self-seeking.'" Here we have the distillation of the novelist's portrait. Honoré de Balzac was a huge influence on later nineteenth century English novelists like Charles Dickens and Henry James who took up his baton to explore the interrelationships between character and environment in different ways. Cousin Bette, written four years before Balzac's death at fifty one, is a rich, jewelled, flawed, dashed-off masterpiece.

Or was it really as bad as Balzac depicts? The book has much remarkable prose, but the characters are uniformly less than lovable. Cousin Bette is not really the only villain. I was plunged into the milieu for better or worse, but certainly it was immersive!

A must read for anyone who is interested in the human soul and in Paris life after Napoloen. Very acidic, assured, illuminating and assured.

excellent

One of the best of Balzac's oeuvre. No so overloaded with details and descriptions as his other works - especially Pere Goriot - (not that it's a technique to be ashamed of), but still replete with displays of his genius. Instead of elaborate building the set for action to the point of erecting a veritable hill, from which place the plot takes off as if it were effortlessly sliding down the slope on the sledge, the novel starts in medias res, throwing us directly into the great story.

The old classics, such as this one, stay in print for many decades for a reason-- they deserve it. The story is set in old Paris society. The scheming, jealousy, lust, betrayals, egomaniacal overreach, it's all human nature on full display, as it was 150 years ago, as it still is today and as it will probably remain as long as we, the depraved human species, remain a viable life form on the planet. [Yes, we really are that bad.] So what? Wish I knew. Meantime here is a novel by a creative genius of 19th century Paris. The writing, the plotting, the characters and dialogue, it all rings true just as we know human nature to be. If you like to read about the machinations of 'society folk' in 19th century Paris, here's as good an example as I know of. To read Balzac is a direct encounter with pure creative genius. One of the unusual aspects of this novel is the amount of financial scheming and wheeling and dealing. Many of the characters seem primarily motivated by hopes of financial gain. The great number of monetary details is actually recounted in a 3-page supplement at the end of the book for those of us keeping score at home. Amazing! I may be a grumpy old pessimist, but I still like a well told tale. And this one is really very well-told indeed.

Perfect clean condition.

Balzac at his brilliant best, with caustic and poignant observations about Nineteenth Century Parisian society (if that's your thing); but the injustice of the Latin men womanizing their fortunes away while their wives show complete understanding of their needs gets me a bit angry.

One of Balzac's best, IMO. And he wrote somewhere on the order of a hundred books.

The novel itself shows Balzac at the height of his powers. Sylvia Raphael's superb translation is enhanced by David Bellos' illuminating introduction and extensive notes on the text. My French text (Folio classique) has almost no commentary. I turn to the Oxford edition for references to history and realia, deciphering complex syntax, archaic words and argot. This is a worthwhile purchase for anyone who wants to fully appreciate Balzac's art.