This unique volume brings together four of Molière's greatest verse comedies covering the best years of his prolific writing career. Actor, director, and playwright, Molière (1622-73) was one of the finest and most influential French dramatists, adept at portraying human foibles and puncturing pomposity. The School for Wives was his first great success; Tartuffe , condemned and banned for five years, his most controversial play. The Misanthrope is his acknowledged masterpiece, and The Clever Women his last, and perhaps best-constructed, verse piece. In addition this collection includes a spirited attack on his enemies and a defense of his theater, in the form of two sparkling short plays, The School for Wives Criticized and The Impromptu at Versailles.
French literary figures, including Molière and Jean de la Fontaine, gathered at Auteuil, a favorite place.
People know and consider Molière, stage of Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, also an actor of the greatest masters in western literature. People best know l'Ecole des femmes (The School for Wives), l'Avare ou l'École du mensonge (The Miser), and le Malade imaginaire (The Imaginary Invalid) among dramas of Molière.
From a prosperous family, Molière studied at the Jesuit Clermont college (now lycée Louis-le-Grand) and well suited to begin a life in the theater. While 13 years as an itinerant actor helped to polish his abilities, he also began to combine the more refined elements with ccommedia dell'arte.
Through the patronage of the brother of Louis XIV and a few aristocrats, Molière procured a command performance before the king at the Louvre. Molière performed a classic of [authore:Pierre Corneille] and le Docteur amoureux (The Doctor in Love), a farce of his own; people granted him the use of Salle du Petit-Bourbon, a spacious room, appointed for theater at the Louvre. Later, people granted the use of the Palais-Royal to Molière. In both locations, he found success among the Parisians with les Précieuses ridicules (The Affected Ladies), l'École des maris</i> (<i>The School for Husbands</i>), and <i>[book:l'École des femmes (The School for Wives). This royal favor brought a pension and the title "Troupe du Roi" (the troupe of the king). Molière continued as the official author of court entertainments.
Molière received the adulation of the court and Parisians, but from moralists and the Church, his satires attracted criticisms. From the Church, his attack on religious hypocrisy roundly received condemnations, while people banned performance of Don Juan. From the stage, hard work of Molière in so many theatrical capacities began to take its toll on his health and forced him to take a break before 1667.
From pulmonary tuberculosis, Molière suffered. In 1673 during his final production of le Malade imaginaire (The Imaginary Invalid), a coughing fit and a haemorrhage seized him as Argan, the hypochondriac. He finished the performance but collapsed again quickly and died a few hours later. In time in Paris, Molière completely reformed.
a disappointing first read of 2025, but that's the life of a final-year english literature undergraduate student. i only read tartuffe and found it entertaining enough (so not at all). moliere's satire of religious hypocrisy is clever, but the moral lesson feels heavy-handed. tartuffe himself is a fascinating character, but i struggled to connect with the rest of the characters, particularly orgon, whose gullibility was beyond frustrating. he might be the most useless fictional male i have ever encountered (and i have come across plenty). the resolution felt rushed and overly convenient, though that might be typical of comedy from this period - or maybe just a reflection of my middling feelings about the play. overall, not a bad read, but certainly not one i'll revisit once this degree is behind me.
Who knew that when you need a fun read you should grab French plays from the 1600s? This was hilarious. Loved the sarcasm, the mocking, the self-abuse by the author, playing with stereotypes. I think I've found a new favorite playwright. Sorry, Sophocles. I still love you too, though.
I'm not the greatest fan of theater and I'm not very good at reading plays. I tend to be underwhelmed by them. Moliere's are no exception. That being said, I did enjoy them. I just didn't find them to be brilliant which is more a shortcoming on my part than his, I'm sure.
so molière's plays are all about exposing the hypocrisy of humanity because at the end of the day, we are all hypocrites to some degree, and it's just a matter of how much we are willing to overcome and minimize it and so on. kekw
Some books seem as if their entire purpose were to prove that there truly is nothing new under the sun. Moliere’s legacy is far reaching and it’s fascinating to see how some of the character types that he has painted in these plays still inform our discourses in subtle ways in the current year. Even before I knew a single one of his plays, I had unwittingly learned the name of one of his most infamous characters, Tartuffe. In various other books, I had come across the word Tartuffery without knowing its origins. So striking and memorable was Tartuffe’s character that his name had become synonymous with religious hypocrisy and has been widely used as a convenient reference point, which is one of those hidden values in a literary canon.
The Oxford University Press collection includes some of Molliere’s most important works including: “Tartuffe,” of course, but also “The Misanthrope,” “The School for Wives,” “The School for Wives Criticized,” and “The Clever Women.”
Anyone looking over this list might be made a little suspicious by the last three titles. Moliere was a firebrand, never shy to point out absurdity and hypocrisy and he does not spare “the fare sex” from any of it. He courted controversy for all of his career and seemed to take pride in his ability to procure the laughter of the crowds by ridiculing the denizens of “high society.” Perhaps he was so adept at making fun out of the upper-crust because he came from it. Moliere was born Jean-Baptiste Poquelin in 1622 to a well-to-do bourgeoisie family in Paris, seemingly destined for a life of quiet respectability. But at 21, he rejected all of it and, taking the money his mother had left to him, he went into the theatre.
His first great success was The School for Wives, in which, the aging bachelor, Arnolphe has decided to take on a wife by marrying his young female ward Woody-Allen-style. This was apparently a not terribly uncommon practice during this time. However, it’s made more interesting by the fact that Arnolphe, having already cuckholded most of the husbands in his town (he was a bit of a playboy in his day), is crippled by the fear of being cucked himself. This was of course part of the trend of young women marrying older, established men and then taking younger lovers on the side. In order to save himself from this humiliation, Arnolphe has deliberately raised the young Agnes, his ward, to be as ignorant and gullible as possible, believing that women give birth through the ear and so on. But through a comedy of errors and scandalous double-entendres, Arnolphe sees all of his careful plans turned against him in a very “The Appointment in Samarra” kind of way, but without the death.
The School for Wives Criticized is a fascinating play in that it is a lengthy defense of The School for Wives. A group of friends gathers together to discuss the aforementioned play and Moliere uses the characters to voice his critics and his answers to them. The most surprising part is that it is still a pretty good play and genuinely fun to read. What’s most interesting is how Moliere basically wrote in 1663 the argument playbook that standup comedians have been working from for the last sixty years. The gist is that the laughter of the audience is sufficient to baptize anything.
I’ll admit, I think this is a terrible argument for various reasons. And I say this as someone who used to love stand-up. (Patrice O’Neal’s “Elephant in the Room” is one of my favorite sets of all time.) Still, I think the idea that the laughter of the crowd should make anything and everything sacrosanct is ludicrous and I find the way that some people talk about comedy as if were holy to be weird and off-putting. But I digress.
Tartuffe tells the story of charlatan and con-man masquerading as a devout monk so as to trick Orgon, a wealthy bourgeoisie, into allowing him to marry his daughter and inherit his wealth. During the process, Tartuffe, the “monk,” becomes smitten with Orgon’s wife Elmire. Nearly all the family realize that con that’s being played, but Orgon will listen to none of them, eventually forcing his wife to develop a plan to reveal Tartuffe’s trickery by pretending to take him up on on of his many advances while her husband is hidden in the same room. Hilarity ensues.
The Clever Women mercilessly mocks the arrogant, pseudo-intellectual types that I suppose must have been common in the French salon scene, but is no less common today. Clitandre after a lengthy period of pursuing Armande and being continually spurned by her, finally gives up his suite and falls in love with Armande’s sister Henriette, who agrees to marry him. Armande does not respond well to this news. What follows is a long examination of the intersection of narcissism and vapidity, which is certainly funny, but also at times, just a little too real. One scene in particular in which a mediocre poet is reading a few bad lines as his audience fall over themselves to heap histrionic praise on this trash is…uncomfortably accurate. But it does have one of my favorite speeches from the collection. One of the themes of the play is the dichotomy between the mind and the body. The women of the salons and their poets are marked by their obsession with the mind and its superiority over the crudity of the body (another theme that has still not been completely resolved in the three hundred years since). In defense of his love for Henriette Clitandre responds: "Unfortunately, though, I’m not the same as you: I don’t just have a soul, I’ve got a body too. It means too much to me, I won’t cast it aside: I don’t possess the art of being rarefied. The good Lord has denied me your philosophy; My body and my soul keep perfect company. There’s nothing more enchanting, I believe you find, Than love that’s consummated only in the mind, Two hearts that beat as one in tender purity, And utterly removed from sensuality. But I can’t imitate your dainty attitude: And you’re so right to say that I’m a trifle crude. I love with all of me, and not just with my soul; My love’s directed at my mistress as a whole."
Maybe it’s just because I recently finished a collection of Wendell Berry’s essays (unbelievably good by the way, next level stuff), but right now I am very much into the idea of the unified body and mind. Finally, The Misanthrope is widely regarded as Moliere’s great masterpiece and I will admit that uh…I don’t get it. It’s fine. It’s a play. I’m perfectly ready to believe I’m missing something, and I must be because, while it’s interesting and of course amusing, I don’t see what should make it stand so far above some of the others here in the esteem of literary scholars, but oh well. The Misanthrope tells the story of Alceste, a man who has decided that he’s had enough of all society’s lies and shams. He can’t abide any degree of duplicity and is determined to elevate himself morally above the rest of surrounding society. Unfortunately for his aims, he has also fallen in love with a beautiful and capricious young woman.
I have mixed feelings about Moliere. He was surely a great friend to democracy, and, as an American, I’m naturally sympathetic. But it seems to me that there are two ways that one can believe in democracy. There is weak belief, which holds that democracy, for all its faults, is the most effective means for a population to remain free. Then there is strong belief like what Moliere seems to possess, which claims that there are no faults with democracy and that the voice of the people should be taken as “the voice of God.” To me, strong belief is untenable, because even if we are free from the tyranny of (insert group or institution here), we may still be enslaved by our own wants and desires. Moliere banks on this appeal. His audiences desire to laugh at the salacious and scandalous and his willingness to give them what they wanted made him a star. The ancients understood (better than I think we do today) that our desires are not a faultless compass. Today, hopelessly mired in consumerism, we are constantly sold cheap pleasures at the expense of our time, attention, and the more positive lives we might cultivate for ourselves if we were able to invest those things more productively. I cannot think of freedom without thinking of the innumerable choices I made when young that still effect me today. We are all of us slaves to our past selves, who were either good masters or bad. I think part of maturing is learning to be master of one’s desires. And if the entire world were to tell me that watching Netflix was better than climbing Seoraksan (my favorite of all the mountain trails in Korea), then I would have to tell the entire world that they were simply wrong. And so, even though the person who strives to be different sets himself up to look ridiculous (a fact that Moliere was supremely talented in exploiting), I still that Moliere might amend his opinion if he were here today since it is only because some “ridiculous” men and women choose to read old books, that Moliere’s name is remembered at all, now that the crowd has moved on to Stranger Things and Tik Tok. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t.
In Kundera’s Immortality (another great book by the way), he says that “to be absolutely modern means: never to question the content of modernity and to serve it as one serves the absolute, without hesitation.” Or to put it another way, being absolutely modern means “to be the ally to one’s gravediggers.” Maybe Moliere would choose in his own worth, or maybe he would choose for the world destined to forget him; neither would surprise me.
Having finished this selection, I can easily say it's no wonder Molière is considered one of the greatest comedy writers of all time. I think Molière's humour, successfully farcical to some extent, is very accessible, and universal for satirizing unusual human behaviour, several vices and follies; and his usage of satire is excellent. I must also add that Molière cared a great deal about what other people thought about himself and his plays, as reflected in some of the plays in this collection like The School for Wives Criticized and The Impromptu at Versailles, both of which are significant for their metatheatricality and referentiality to Molière's other works. Here I have briefly written my short reviews about each play in the collection, with my ratings separately for each play in paranthesis, separately.
• The School for Wives (4/5): A somewhat bawdy comedy about a man, Arnolphe, who thinks himself too smart to be cuckolded, but eventually gets outsmarted by his naive ward Agnes, whom he intended to marry, and by her lover Horace. It has some misogynistic elements.
• The School for Wives Criticized (3.5/5): Written in response to the criticisms of The School of Wives, this play mocks several types of critiques, pointing out that they are actually unconfortable with their own vices shown in "The School for Wives", or that they are too conceited or pedantic. Clever creations of Molière, Dorante, and, to some extent, Uranie, are the characters who defend the play with great arguments.
• The Impromptu at Versailles (3/5): A play within a play, a witty example of metatheatre to mock several critics of his plays, most significantly Molière's contemporary poets and actors. But I can't say it was as entertaining as the other plays in the novel, and the references get too complex after a while for today's reader.
• Tartuffe (5/5): This is an excellent moral comedy about a religious hypocrite named Tartuffe, who insincerely influences people, tries to manipulate a family, and whose portrayal recalls the infamous religious cult leaders. Orgon, the manipulated father of the family is one of the unforgettable characters, as well as Dorine and Cleante, who are the voices of the common sense in the play. I thoroughly enjoyed the play, and it has become one of my top 5 all-time favourite plays.
• The Misanthrope (4.5/5): Whether the protagonist, the "misanthrope" Alceste, is a fool or a hero is questionable, but for sure he is one of the most complex and important dramatic characters ever, I liked him and I can relate to his views that the society has been corrupted as almost everyone's hypocritical and self-interested. Climene, the woman Alceste loves, the suitors around her, and their aristocratic circle show Alceste and us readers what the society and world in general is actually and unfortunately like.
• The Clever Women (4.5/5): This play is about some "précieuses", i. e. prudish, pedantic and affectedly intellectual women, whom Moliere liked to criticize. Those women in the play, Philaminte, her sister Belise, and one of her two daughters Armande are obssessed with philosophy and language rules, to some of their family members' annoyance, like the hen-pecked husband Chrysale and the other daughter Henriette, who wants to marry a guy she likes but is forced by her mother and aunt to marry a pedantic, annoying poet named Tristottin. Definitely laughter guaranteed.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I like to use Moliere's plays as little literary palate-cleansers whenever I feel as if my literary endeavors have been too solemn and weighty. It's remarkable how seemingly basic and platitudinous the themes of Moliere's plays usually are, but how wholesome and fresh they always come across. This is by no means an original observation, but even if I hadn't encountered it first in Harold Bloom's Western Canon, I would have come around to it eventually: this dramatist puts Montaigne on the stage. No one is so simultaneously deliriously fun and mercilessly brutal as he, and though his comedies lack, to a certain extent, Shakespeare's holistic vision, they are quicksilver, Mendelssohnian scherzi that never resort to ridiculous absurdities or "low" tactics, instead generating laughter and radiance by exposing the follies of our attempted seriousness. Yet there are dark intimations that Moliére dances around resolving (especially in Tartuffe), contributing to his more secular, pessimistic brand of comedy which is fully in keeping with the spirit of his great essayist forebear. He really is one of the very few truly great comic writers in our tradition*, right up there with Cervantes, Austen, Dickens, Trollope, and, yes, Shakespeare. Whenever you finish one of his plays, you feel both enlightened and entertained in a magical way that only true geniuses can achieve. They are perfectly unpretentious, exquisitely light and subtle literary experiences to return to again and again with no shame and no tedium.
Whenever I finished reading Maya Slater's interesting rhymed verse translation of one of these plays, I wanted to speak in rhymes for the rest of the day. Slater aims more for good comedic English than authentic French accuracy, and the results are absolutely hilarious. It's a maxim that everything becomes automatically funnier if it rhymes: something that Dr. Seuss knew well, and which should steer you away from any translation of Moliere that drops the rhyming in favor of "faithfulness" (even the most banal TV sitcom or stand-up routine would be a smash hit if it was written in rhymes).
*By "comic writers," I mean those in the tradition of light-handed, urbane Horatian satire; following the masters of the Augustan Age like Johnson and Pope, as opposed to the fierce Juvenalian stream of dark lampoon represented by Swift, and subsequently by many of the 20th century's greatest writers. I've come to believe that this former brand of comedy is the most difficult tone in which to write, and its masters are rightfully lauded as some of our finest artists.
Typically, I enjoy Moliere’s literature, so it was a shame when I didn’t find Tartuffe to my liking. As soon as I started the play, I became disengaged, I think it is because there was this grand allusion and mystery around the protagonist, Tartuffe, and we are only introduced to him half way through the play. I am aware, that the delay of the protagonist, adds a flair of drama, suspense and want, which is perfect for the theatrical stage; however, in the written form, I found it exhausting. When I did finally get to the scene where Tartuffe was present, I found his characterisation: dramatic, overly-animated and fake; I am aware that these exaggerated characteristics heighten the atmosphere of hypocrisy, which is central to the play, but this type of behaviour is very taxing to read. Maybe in time I will come to enjoy Tartuffe, but for now I am not satisfied.
French is said to be the language of Molière, such is the author's fame. I thoroughly enjoyed this book of his clever plays, it easily passes the test of time. There were many sections when dialog made me laugh aloud. Any one of these plays would make the book worthwhile but the combination is outstanding. The translation of prose and verse is enjoyable and easy to read.
For others like me who read plays infrequently I'll suggest that reading an entire play, or at least an entire act, makes remembering characters easier. They're not that long.
(Only read 'Tartuffe'). This was short, fun and moved along at a good pace. I would like to see a performance of the scene with Orgon under the table.
The translator went for rhyme at the expense of metre and, it seemed to me, register. Sometimes slang was used to get the rhyme and at other times the language was dated and stylized. The effect was a bit trite at times - like the verse in a greetings card.
*as I read other plays within this volume I will update this review and perhaps also its rating.*
THE MISANTHROPE I think it's a generally well-done and insightful play in the same vein as Shakespeare's Timon of Athens. Yes, the world is full of vanity, no, you can probably not outrun it, and yes, you are probably engaging in vanity by thinking yourself as one of the few who are "above it all."
"But love is never ruled by reason, as you know." I.ii.248
Tartuffe - I was unfamiliar with this work, new of it, but never read or seen performed. Very entertaining rewarding in its style and delivery. Also very succinct in getting its message across. Well worth exploring.
Tartuffe Hilarious!!! I love the way he criticizes society, the aristocracy and the church by the way of comedy and making the king loving his plays so he would somehow be protected. Enjoy the plays so much!!!
Very clever speeches, some of which were brought into the film Moliere. I particularly like the Misanthrope who always speaks his mind and when asked his opinion of a poem starts gently in the third person with "I tried to tell this friend not to write any more". Also the incident where the young couple are singing to the father about loving eachother on the pretext of it being a singing lesson. Has to be acted to be appreciated. There is one play about wife being beaten with a stick by her husband, a bit politically incorrect these days, I wonder how it would be acted in a contemporary production. There aren't enough Moliere productions. I haven't seen one since "Rock Tartuffe" at the Edinburgh Festival years ago.