Together these two novels comprise the most fascinating, obsessive, and erotic works of contemporary Frech fiction. Like the works of Georges Bataille, and those of the Marquis de Sade before him, Klossowski's fiction explores the connections between the mind and the body through a lens of sexuality. Both of these novels feature Octave, an elderly cleric; his striking younTogether these two novels comprise the most fascinating, obsessive, and erotic works of contemporary Frech fiction. Like the works of Georges Bataille, and those of the Marquis de Sade before him, Klossowski's fiction explores the connections between the mind and the body through a lens of sexuality. Both of these novels feature Octave, an elderly cleric; his striking young wife Roberte; and their nephew, Antoine in a series of sexual situations. But Klossowski's books are about theology as well, and this merging of the sexual with the religious makes this book one of the most painstakingly baroque and intellectual novels of our time....
|Title||:||Roberte Ce Soir & The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes (French Literature)|
|Number of Pages||:||214 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Roberte Ce Soir & The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes (French Literature) Reviews
AUNT ROBERTE: "As a calm and clear-eyed atheist, member of Parliament, censor in the Ministry of Information, and advocate for reason triumphing over emotion, I hereby condemn my senescent husband Octave and his inane predilections: his imagination - so fervid and drooling; his interests - so panting and voyeuristic; his priorities - art and sex over progress and reason; his very perspective - so convinced that there is beauty in sin, so convinced that "beauty" and "sin" even exist. This modern world has no room for his empurpled, engorged dreams of transgression, rape, humiliation, degradation..."UNCLE OCTAVE: "As an aristocratic fascist of the old school and a proponent of the good work the Third Reich accomplished in Paris, I hereby condemn my censorious young wife Roberte. 'Tis true, I am a religious sort, and that is not so modern. 'Tis true, my versions of the Lord and the Son and the Holy Spirit are ones that take turns ravishing my wife while I watch from behind a curtain, a delighted old cuckold. It is all true: I am both a lover of God as well as an unrepentant degenerate. But what of it? Without religion and God there is no guilt; without guilt and all such murky emotions, sex is a cold and tedious act. And without God and Guilt and Sex there is no Art! My perspective is one that embraces freedom and the imagination!"AUNT ROBERTE: "But why does your imagination always center around my ravishment? You are a predictably reactionary sort; your simplistic complexes and your obsessive compulsions and your stilted rape fantasies are all so, so... outmoded. Hallmarks of a dying era It is a new world I am helping to create, one free of guilt. And art. And God!"UNCLE OCTAVE: "But what of your own rape fantasies? Do not deny that you have them!"AUNT ROBERTE: "..."UNCLE OCTAVE: *smirks*Their nephew Antoine enters the parlor.UNCLE OCTAVE: "Ah, the lad returns from his lessons. Come, young Antoine, 'tis time for me to watch you ravish your aunt - your tutor and you and this random gentleman I have invited from off of the street, all together now! Father, Son, and Holy Spirit... ravishing Roberte! Right under those delicious paintings of Tarquinius ravishing Lucretia! How sublime it shall be! Now get to it!"ANTOINE: "Praise God, the moment comes at last!"AUNT ROBERTE: "Patience, dear boy. And let's leave this so-called God out of it, shall we? Let me finish poisoning your tedious old uncle; after he passes into the Nothingness, we shall commence a new phase of your *cough* studies. You will find that one does not need religion or art or creepy old voyeurs to have an interesting time!"
These are two novels. The second one, "The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes," is in a diary form, the alternating respective entries in the diaries of the young and beautiful Roberte and that of her aging philosopher/ecclesiastic husband, Octave. They narrate, from their own perspectives, what supposedly happened in the first novel, written like a play, which carries Roberte's name. In that sense, it is almost impossible to not read both novels in tandem.I have had some background in scholastic philosophy during my college days many years ago so the concepts of essence, existence, matter, form, quiddity, substance and spirit are not entirely foreign to me. The philosophizing done by Octave here to justify offering his wife Roberte to every male visitor in his home as a sign of hospitality, and Roberte's own descent to sexual perversion, however, can make the reader's head spin, as they did mine, though not in a suffering sense but deliciously, like when one is high on drugs or alcohol.They best way to read this, perhaps, is not to exert too much energy deciphering the philosophy and just feel the pervading eroticism of the language or, for the women, to just follow Roberte's advices like this one in her diary about how to deal with a husband or a lover who is not entirely welcomed:"...don't be afraid to lead little Tom Thumb out of the woods: it's always damp enough in there for him to look well soaked as he emerges. Pop him back in right away and let him escape a second time. If perchance he swells to about the size of your big toe, hide your face: the fable of the frog that burst from wanting to become as big as the bull does not apply to you; such boastings speak volumes, and there's a yarn your partner won't forget for a forthnight. If the little rascal stays dry withal, cover him up at once, let fly, produce a cloudburst, a tornado, as during your bona fide storms; your explorer will leave you be, fed up, proud of himself, and reassured: his weather forecasts always come true. And then go off to a night of undisturbed sleep or move on to your wholesome chores: you'll have once again given him what he was looking for--the vilest idea of yourself."A masterpiece from this theologian and an astute scholar of Marquis de Sade.
These are two novellas written in 1953 and 1959 connected by common characters being Roberte, her husband Octave and adopted nephew Antoine. The first book is majority a dialogue analysing person and perception (do we really know anyone?) with sexual overtones and religious belief. The second appears to me to be a more detailed story building to the underlying history of Roberte as a 1943 nurse in liberated Italy and the (her own imagined?) dark psyche of Vittorio, a double-crosser known by a Nazi officer who she is helping in hospital, who is now 10 years on being engaged as Antoine’s tutor.These are rather studies and intellectual discourses than readable novels; an example is the use of ‘quidest’, ‘utrumsit’ and ‘sedcontra’ (Latin used by Aquinas) become intimate body parts of Roberte’s and Octave.I had the feeling this book was like a mix of Nietzsche, Sartre and Flaubert’s Temptation of St Antony but just all the difficult, unengaging bits. So only 2 stars – basically too over my head.Look out for Klossowski's "The Baphomet" a lot better as a novel but equally difficult overall.Some quotes:“This triple representation of herself to herself is hence not essential; the three Robertes are only accidental in their relationship to Roberte, because this triple representation of herself originates with us, and because it is we alone who modify it”“God had to allow His only son to be killed in order that it be remembered ever afterward that no human law can ever restrain men from killing other men”.
A classic example of strange post-war French literature that fuses eroticism and theology ala Scholastic philosophy. Weird? Yes. Interesting? At times.The transgressive acts that the work relates, that it enacts and puts the reader into relation with; such is the working of this work; the transgressive temptation that is freedom.As Klossowski writes, "But what else is temptation but that surging thrust of freedom which transports us out of ourselves?" (85).The surge of freedom that is transgression. The step outside, beyond. The step which is ever to come. Another step, a step otherwise. Another transgression, again. This evening, ce soir, again.
I preferred the latter story and in that I preferred Octavio's journals but that is probably because I am more like a pompous voyeuristic old man with an interest in esoteric art then I want to admit.
Literature and Philosophy have never been so entwined, only matched by Maurice Blanchot, Thomas the Obscure or Holderling poem The Ister.
I was only able to stand about 30 pages.