Count d'Orgel's Ball

by Raymond Radiguet, Jean Cocteau (Foreword), Annapaola Cancogni (Translator)

Count d'Orgel is handsome, charming, and carefree, a model of cool aristocratic aplomb. His wife, the Countess, is beautiful and pure, and loves her husband more than anything in the world. But from the moment the d'Orgels meet and befriend the clever young François de Séryeuse backstage at the circus, all three of these supremely civilized and witty people are caught up in an ever more intricate and seductive dance of deception and self-deception. At Count d'Orgel's masquerade ball, the real disguises are those of the human heart.

Completed just before Raymond Radiguet's death at the age of twenty, Count d'Orgel's Ball is a love story that is as disturbing as it is delicious.

Genres: Fiction, France, French Literature, Classics, Literature, 20th Century, Novels

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1924

About the author

Raymond Radiguet was born in Saint-Maur, Val-de-Marne close to Paris, the son of a caricaturist. In 1917 he moved to the city. Soon he would drop out of the Lycée Charlemagne, where he studied, in order to pursue his interests in journalism and literature. He associated himself with the Modernist set, befriending Picasso, Max Jacob, Jean Hugo, Juan Gris, and especially Jean Cocteau, who became his mentor. Radiguet also had several well-documented relationships with women. An anecdote told by Ernest Hemingway has an enraged Cocteau charging Radiguet (known in the Parisian literary circles as "Monsieur Bébé" – Mister Baby) with decadence for his tryst with a model: "Bébé est vicieuse. Il aime les femmes." ("Baby is depraved. He likes women." [Note the use of the feminine adjective:]). Radiguet, Hemingway implies, employed his sexuality to advance his career, being a writer "who knew how to make his career not only with his pen but with his pencil."

In early 1923 Radiguet published his first and most famous novel, Le Diable au corps (The Devil in the Flesh). The story of a young married woman who has an affair with a sixteen-year-old boy while her husband is away fighting at the front provoked scandal in a country that had just been through World War I. Though Radiguet denied it, it was established later that the story was in large part autobiographical. Critics, who initially despised the intense publicity campaign for the book's release (something not normally associated with works of literary merit at the time), were finally won over by the quality of Radiguet's writing and his sober, objective style.

His second novel, Le bal du Comte d'Orgel, also dealing with adultery, was only published posthumously in 1924. Radiguet had died the previous year, aged 20, of typhoid fever, which he contracted after a trip he took with Cocteau. In reaction to this death Francis Poulenc wrote, "For two days I was unable to do anything, I was so stunned" (Ivry 1996). Alongside these two novels, Radiguet's works include a few poetry volumes and a play.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

All we need is love…

Are feelings such as stirred the heart of Countess d’Orgel obsolete? So strong a sense of duty combined with so much weakness might seem unbelievable today, even in a person of birth, and a Creole. Or is it that loyalty has lost its charm, being, as a rule, less savory than transgression?
The unconscious ploys of a pure soul are often stranger than vice’s wiles. This is how we shall answer those women who will find Mme d’Orgel either too honest or too easy.

These are the opening paragraphs… Raymond Radiguet writes about aristocracy and his peculiar irony prevails throughout the novel…
All the characters exist in the atmosphere of indolence… She and her husband live happily in mutual adoration…

They didn’t talk much. Mme d’Orgel was not concerned about the particular mood she was in since she thought it natural to be in unison with her husband. As to Anne, whenever he was alone with his wife he lapsed into melancholy. It was not for lack of feeling. Anne d’Orgel felt at ease only in the artificial atmosphere of brightly lit rooms filled with people.

And now the twenty-year-old hero of the tale falls in love with the countess…

It would be safe to say that Francois’s ideas on love were ready-made. But since he had made them himself, he believed they were cut to size. He did not realize that he had cut them out of limp feelings.

Love is our only need… But some loves are destined to remain platonic.

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

If, let's say, hypothetically, I was passed this novel, but didn't know who wrote it, or from what period it was written, then my immediate thoughts would be that it came from one of France's literary greats from the 19th century. I would also think it's the sort of work that could have been written by Arthur Schnitzler, one of Austria's greatest writers. So to be told that Count d'Orgel's Ball, after I'd read it, was written by a twenty year old, my response would be that someone is pulling my leg. Pulling at it like they were trying to rip it off. Having already read Radiguet's first novel Devil in the Flesh, which I thought was really good, I wouldn't hesitate to say that this is written better and, had he not died so young in 1923, then Radiguet, without doubt, had the capability of becoming one of the great 20th century writers. I wouldn't be surprised that, with some arrogance, he thought of himself as someone rather extraordinary for his age. This is a deceptive short novel, that appears simple enough, only it isn't. It's a love triangle (yes, I know, we've been here a million times before), set against the atmosphere of post-World War I French high society, where the innocence of one makes him all the more dangerous, and where schemings, flirting, erotic tension, and deceptions are played out psychologically on what seemed like nearly every turn. I loved the distinct seductive undercurrent of decadence that flowed throughout, and I only wish I could have read this whilst lying on a sheepskin rug in front of a posh open fireplace wearing Silk Pajamas. It's less about what is being said and done, and more about what is being thought and imagined. Jean Cocteau wrote an interesting introduction in which he says Count d'Orgel's Ball is "Lovelier than Proust and truer than Balzac" I wouldn't argue with that.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Interesting:
"During one of her lengthy hospitalizations in Switzerland, Zelda Fitzgerald translated Une Saison en Enfer. Earlier Zelda had learned French on her own, by buying a French dictionary and painstakingly reading Raymond Radiguet's Le Bal du Comte d'Orgel."


Yukio Mishima said:
"The spiritual companions of youth are friends and books. ... My childhood was spent during the war. In those days the book that thrilled me most was a novel by Raymond Radiguet, La (sic) Bal du Comte d'Orgel. It is a masterpiece of classical technique that has ranked Radiguet with the great masters of French literature. The artistic value of his works is beyond question, but admittedly at that time my appreciation of them was half for the wrong reasons. I was drawn to the genius Radiguet, who at the tender age of twenty had died leaving the world such a masterpiece, and I who was almost certainly destined to go to war and die equally young in battle superimposed my own image on his. Somehow he became my personal rival and his literary achievements a landmark to be reached before I died. Consequently, as my literary tastes changed and I unexpectedly survived on into the postwar era, the spell of Radiguet's novel naturally weakened."


"Mme Forbach had the innocent coquetry of those old people who pretend they are light sleepers."

"She had too much to say to ask any questions."

"A housewife cannot stand to see bread crumbled; for Mme de Seryeuse, caresses were a waste of heart, they cheapened true feelings."

"They thought criticism was a sign of sophistication. Unfortunately, this is what everybody, high and low, thinks."

"Genuinely astounded, Count d'Orgel remained silent. He was only deft as expressing what he did not feel. Once his surprise was over, he knew how to feign it."

"The first to arrive had been Paul Robin. [Count d'Orgel] barely introduced him to Narumov. In this, Count d'Orgel behaved like a guide who lets the first visitor wait for a group to collect before starting the tour: he ruthlessly left Paul waiting in front of a mystery. But not for long: Mirza and his niece soon came to his rescue. For them he turned on the spotlights. They were worthy of the full spectacle."

"Drawings did nothing for Anne. He was like his uneducated ancestors who won battles but could not read a map."

"She was so clear and cold that Count d'Orgel failed to understand her. She noticed it an panicked. Incredulity can be harrowing."

[Katya]

"Durante a gravidez, a sr. de Forbach retirara-se para casa de uns amigos, em Robinson. Ao aproximar-se a hora avisaram a parteira. Esta não pôde vir. Chamaram o médico da aldeia. A sr. de Forbach declarou nessa altura que preferia dar à luz como os animais a ser assistida por um homem. «Mas um médico não é um homem», explicavam-lhe. Gritou ainda mais. Acabou por ter de conformar-se. Alguns anos depois, ao saber da morte do médico de Robinson, confessou que tal morte a consolava. Só as santas confessam pensamentos tais."


Não será pela falta de empatia que senti, com os personagens e a história de O Baile do Conde de Orgel, que Raimond Radiguet merece menor destaque.
Este livro, terminado no ano da sua morte (aos 20 anos) leva talvez a palma sobre o anterior (escrito aos 14 anos) dos únicos dois romances que o escritor teve oportunidade de compor numa vida demasiado breve, pela aguda abordagem psicológica que o caracteriza. De facto, e em relação a O Diabo no Corpo, os meandros sentimentais são explorados com maior minúcia neste livro, mas há qualquer coisa no enredo que o posiciona no século XIX e não no XX - como o autor pretende -, num registo ligeiramente antiquado que lhe retira alguma da dureza que é qualidade do autor na anterior obra.
Desta feita, a alta sociedade francesa no pós I Guerra Mundial e o eteno triângulo amoroso não me convenceram. Tudo é contido, reprimido neste Baile. Os personagens vivem paixões assombrosas, são autodestrutivos, frívolos no tratamento dos seus pares, obcecados com o que sentem, frustrados pela ideia de dever (de manutenção de imagem, apenas) a que sacrificam quem verdadeiramente são. Não me interpretem mal: na sua forma, O Baile do Conde de Orgel é maravilhoso (os loucos anos 20 americanos de Fitzgerald têm aqui espelho no território europeu e francês) - mas nem sempre pegamos no livro certo à hora certa.

"A felicidade é como a saúde: não se constata."

[Matthieu · Rating 4 out of 5]

An analysis of feelings.

[Amaranta · Rating 4 out of 5]

C’è un ballo? No.
C’è una festa? No.
Ma c’è un Conte, una contessa, un giovane affascinante e una Parigi luminosa e sfavillante, fatta di incontri, salotti in cui ricevere, merende e passeggiate fuori porta. E tanta tanta ipocrisia.
E’ il turbine della città che non dorme mai a tenere alto il racconto. E un triangolo che si esplica pagina dopo pagina in un climax che lascia il lettore stupito e in qualche modo divertito.
Cosa contano in fondo? I moti dell’animo della contessa D’Orgel o un divertimento sempre e comunque assicurato per sé e per i propri ospiti, senza che nulla intacchi tale ordine?
Un lungo racconto, piacevolissimo e molto ben riuscito

[Chiara Pagliochini · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Così, subirono una situazione d’allarme e ciascuno fu sul punto di sorprendere un po’ di verità. Ma tutto tornò subito in ordine, cioè nelle tenebre.”

È strano che due romanzi diversi come Il diavolo in corpo e Il ballo del Conte d’Orgel possano essere usciti dalla stessa penna. Sembra quasi di sorprenderli mentre si azzuffano, si mordono le orecchie l’un l’altro urlando, « Io sono incandescente! », « Sì, ma io sono accurato! », talmente le situazioni rappresentate sono diverse per sfondo sociale e impatto comunicativo.
Se Il diavolo in corpo è la storia fulminante di un innamoramento e del corrispondente apprendistato amoroso, Il ballo del Conte d’Orgel è la storia di un amore maturo, un amore morto in partenza perché sconveniente, destinato a non realizzarsi mai. Il diavolo in corpo è una storia la cui tragedia passa inosservata, talmente rapinosa è la scrittura di Radiguet, talmente il suo innamoramento innamora noi; Il ballo del Conte d’Orgel, al contrario, è inconcepibile senza la sua tragedia, tanto la scrittura è ragionata, metodica. Ma quello che li lega è il vero talento del loro scrittore, e cioè la sua capacità di dare voce e parole, di definire quei sentimenti che sempre proviamo e mai verbalizziamo, la capacità di declinare il sentimento amoroso in tutte le sue sfumature.

Il ballo del Conte d’Orgel è la storia di un triangolo di alta società, un triangolo senza lati, coi vertici sparsi su un tavolo in attesa di essere congiunti. Il ballo che compare nel titolo non fa in tempo a comparire nel libro e resta sospeso, un’anticipazione, una proiezione verso un futuro che è negato al lettore. I tre vertici della figura sono il conte Anne d’Orgel, la contessa Mahaut e il giovane aristocratico François de Séryeuse.
L’atmosfera in cui ci muoviamo evoca scenari da Fin de siècle, nobili sfaccendati, ricevimenti galanti e frivolezze. In realtà la fine del secolo è lontana e siamo già dopo la prima guerra mondiale. La rivoluzione bolscevica bussa alle porte e persino fa capolino nelle pagine finali, quando un profugo russo, cugino dello zar, arriva a disturbare col suo dolore questa frizzante atmosfera parigina. Ma capisce il lettore che questo mondo sta morendo e che forse è addirittura già morto: i personaggi che compaiono in scena non fanno che replicare ritmi abituali, si muovono come si muovevano i loro antenati, fanno finta di nulla, passano noncuranti tra le ali del popolo che li deride. Ma sanno in cuor loro che il loro tempo è finito, che presto il loro mondo di travestimenti e champagne scomparirà per sempre. Devono fingere che questo non sarà, fingere per non cadere nel baratro della paura, e allora si muovono, si muovono, si muovono, come un naufrago che muove le braccia per restare a galla.
I coniugi d’Orgel sono i paladini di questa finzione, l’ultimo baluardo della mondanità, quella mondanità che resiste, dà balli e salva le apparenze. Ma quando il giovane François si innamora della contessa d’Orgel, facendo innamorare la contessa di lui, questi equilibri sembrano gravemente compromessi o perlomeno a rischio.
L’innamoramento è lento e allo stesso tempo fulmineo, è come la goccia che scava la pietra, la goccia che cade continuamente e non si suppone possa avere un effetto tanto distruttivo. François, il migliore amico del conte, cerca di negare il suo amore per Mahaut, di camuffarlo, di nasconderlo a se stesso. Mahaut, innocente, devota, sinceramente affezionata al marito, si sforza di fare lo stesso. Il loro è un sistema di bugie vicendevoli che li porterà ad evitare ogni occasione di faccia a faccia. Per paura di lanciarsi in un bacio, eviteranno di sfiorarsi la mano. Per paura di confluire in uno stesso luogo, correranno ai lati opposti del continente. Si sminuiranno, eviteranno occasioni, volteranno la testa dall’altra parte.
Tanto diverso è il loro amore dall’appassionata vicenda de Il diavolo in corpo, dal quale ogni pudore, ogni vergogna vengono banditi. François e Mahaut, invece, sono tutti pudore, sono tutti vergogna, negazione di sé e compromesso, sono sottomissione a un sistema che li vuole divisi. François è disposto a rinnegare il suo amore in nome dell’amicizia, Mahaut è disposta a rinnegare il suo in nome del vincolo matrimoniale e delle apparenze.
È vero amore il loro? Il lettore non può fare a meno di domandarselo e di dubitarne. Come può esserlo, se non sono disposti a rischiare nulla per esso? Sono dei deboli, sono dei vili? O al contrario sono creature pure e coraggiose, disposte a sacrificare al dovere tutto il piacere? Non c’è forse più tragedia nel trattenere le proprie pulsioni, non c’è più peccato nel sopprimerle che nell’assecondarle?
È l’incantesimo, il trucco dell’abitudine che si ripete. Allo stesso modo in cui si nega la possibilità di un cambiamento sociale, di una propria fine come status e come classe, si nega la possibilità che un cavillo come l’innamoramento possa minare tutto quel che si è costruito. Meglio far finta di niente. Meglio pensare al prossimo ballo. Amare è rischiare, e noi non possiamo permettercelo.

[Pierre E. Loignon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Radiguet, Raymond, Le bal du compte d’Orgel

J’ai beaucoup entendu parler de Radiguet avant de l’avoir lu et ce que j’entendais m’intriguait beaucoup. Cet homme aurait réussi, avant de décéder alors qu’il avait à peine vingt ans, à écrire quelques livres d’une exceptionnelle maturité psychologique, en usant d’un style lapidaire et précis. Je me demandais si les qualités d’écrivain de Radiguet n’étaient pas un peu surfaites en fonction de son destin tragique et fulgurant.
Ma curiosité s’est donc lentement aiguisée sur l’anomalie temporelle que Radiguet constitue dans le monde restreint des grands écrivains jusqu’à ce qu’un petit espace se dégage au travers de mes nombreuses lectures. Elle s’est alors abattue avec avidité sur cette petite plaquette contenant la moitié de son œuvre romanesque et a rencontré si peu de résistance que tout l’espace temps dont j’aurais disposé y a été irrésistiblement absorbé pour quelques heures. C’est indéniable, cette histoire de cœur a su faire résonner les rouages de ma constitution pneumatique à un train infernal et cela pour de multiples raisons.
Premièrement, le petit monde de la mondanité, où se déroule la trame narrative, nous est bien vite rendu familier en même temps que les personnages clés du roman.
Ensuite, le cercle relationnel qui unit les personnages principaux est vraiment très bien montré. Cette histoire de cœur se déploie en effet d’abord dans une sorte de huit clos sartrien, où chacun aime celui qui ne l’aime pas. Mahaut, qui est une sorte de Virginie, aime en effet passionnément son mari, le compte, aristocrate peut-être inspiré du Baron de Charlus, qui ne l’aime pas d’un même amour, ce dernier aimant plutôt François, sans trop savoir pourquoi au départ, tandis que François, personnage classique de semi-parvenu, aime Mahaut. Le maléfice du huis clos sartrien est toutefois étouffé dans l’œuf puisque le triangle des amours fonctionne simultanément par personnages interposés : Mahaut apprécie François puisqu’elle aime le compte et que le compte apprécie François; le compte aime François puisque ce dernier aime Mahaut et lui fait donc apprécier la valeur de sa femme et enfin, François aime le compte puisqu’il est aimé de Mahaut et que son amour veut le bonheur de son aimée.
D’autre part, l’aspect psychologique du roman est très bien monté. Procédant comme si il voulait démontrer, en dehors de l’horizon religieux, le principe pascalien selon lequel le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne saurait voir, Radiguet pose la réalité ontologique de l’amour dans les ombres de l’inconscience. Ces personnages ignorent qu’ils aiment et agissent d’une manière qui constitue d’abord un mystère pour leurs consciences propres.
« L’histoire de cœur », pourtant fort complexe, est ainsi très clairement présentée au lecteur comme destin s’imposant à partir des profondeurs de leurs inconscients respectifs, de leurs « mondanités » au sens de l’ « être-dans-le-monde » heideggérien. Dans ce roman, la vérité des êtres est toute sous-terraine, les consciences servent de réceptacle à l’actualisation des êtres déjà prédéterminés, les actions des personnages suivent plutôt les ordres de déterminismes inconscients et sont d’ailleurs perçues rétrospectivement comme mystérieuses par les personnages eux-mêmes : « Vivre un conte de fées n’étonne pas. Son souvenir seul nous en fait découvrir le merveilleux. » (25)
La situation du roman aboutie en effet lorsque l’amour arrive au niveau de la conscience des personnages. C’est donc à force de gestes inexplicables et obscures que la lumière finit par se faire, que l’amour se révèle comme une évidence aux différents personnages, le cas le plus intéressant, à mon avis, étant celui de l’amour que Mahaut finit par avoir pour François.
C’est, en effet, lorsque Mahaut réaliste l’insouciance du compte à son endroit qu’elle se tourne vers François en s’en déclarant intérieurement amoureuse. C’est l’énonciation interne d’un amour qui n’a rien de vrai, en dehors d’une protection psychologique face à l’affront que constitue le dédain du compte pour son amour, qui tient lieu de cet amour, qui actualise cette possibilité abstraitement, sans que François en soit la cause directe et concrète. François sera aimé par Mahaut comme une pure idée protectrice, un cataplasme devenu essentiel pour arrêter une hémorragie de cœur qui aurait pu être mortelle. C’est un véritable « amour » de survie. Le phénomène est peut-être plus répandu qu’on pourrait le croire dans les histoires de cœurs de l’humanité féminine quand on y pense, mais l’exposer aussi brillamment constitue, à mon avis, un exploit tout à fait admirable.
Bref, dans ce monde mondain, où les affaires de cœur sont beaucoup trop profondes pour prendre une place importante, où l’on vogue dans les profondeurs brumeuse de l’inconscient et où Mahaut vit en étrangère sans le savoir, cet « amour », pour François, ne tardera pas à devenir officiel. Le compte d’Orgel n’y trouvera évidemment aucune raison de s’émouvoir, de même qu’il n’a aucun scrupule moral dans ses propres infidélités, qu’il accomplie d’ailleurs exclusivement en fonction d’impératifs mondains.
Il faut être dénué complètement de passion pour pouvoir dominer parfaitement son objet et ce détachement absolu ne devient possible que si on l’a d’abord expérimenté. Or, les rouages de l’amour sont si élégamment et finement présentés au lecteur, dans un amalgame tellement maîtrisé de profondeur et d’ironie qu’il faut se rendre à l’évidence : tout cela tient assurément du prodige, d’un très jeune prodige d’à peine vingt ans.
Au moins sur le plan de l’amour, Baudelaire semble donc bien avoir eu raison de dire que l’homme est un enfant égaré. Toutes les possibilités sont bien présentes dans cette œuvre génialement juvénile. Aucun égarement d’actualisation ne vient gâcher la pureté du portrait.
On trouve ainsi, en apparence, autant de maturité qu’on pourrait en trouver dans le serein dégrisement envers le vivant qu’apporte avec elle le lent déploiement de la sénescence. Et pourtant, il ne faut pas s’y tromper, si Radiguet est génial, il demeure un très jeune écrivain qui s’amuse à un exercice dont la cruelle perfection fait voir un jeune homme brillant qui a encore l’illusion de tout comprendre.

[Elina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ένα κουβάρι συναισθημάτων που καταπιέζονται από τον καθωσπρεπισμό της κοινωνίας. Δεν μπορώ να πω ότι με άγγιξε και με παρέσυρε. Αυτά.

[Anastasiaadamov · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the writing style and the more I learned about the young author I was more intrigued. When I started reading I did not really know much about it and had no expectations. What I loved most about the complexitiy of this novel are many quote worthy sentences author uses. While short in terms of pages - not nearly 150 pages long, this novel provides much food for thought. Had the author lived to write more than just two novels before he died at the age of 20 I am sure some of his works would be part of mandatory school reading.

[Богиня Книдска · Rating 3 out of 5]

Въпреки очевидно малката разлика в годините между написването на двата романа, израстването на Радиге като писател е очевидно. Наистина, ненавременната му смърт е загуба за света на литературата.
В това по-зряло от всяка гледна точка произведение се наблюдават интересни емоционални обрати на фона на бохемския декаданс на следвоенен Париж.

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. A psychological love triangle novel from the young prodigy, written when he was between 18 and 19, that contains moments of startling insight on par with the great French writers:

Orgel respected his wife too much to be unfaithful to her under the same roof.

Nothing emboldens us more than other people’s fears.

She said to herself, “He is there, I feel nothing.” Is that not a perfect definition of happiness? Happiness is like good health: one does not notice it.

In leaving me my life, they took from me every reason to live.

The novel as a whole often didn’t live up to the phenomenal lines appearing every ten pages or so, and it mostly made me lament what could have been an extraordinary career cut short at the age of 20.

On a side note, I recommend the Pushkin Press translation by Violet Schiff, which is much smoother and less academic jargony than the NYRB translation by Annapaola Cancogni. The above quotes are compiled from Schiff’s translation.

[James Henderson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Revised by Jean Cocteau after Radiguet's death, this is his masterpiece. A love triangle is set in post World War I Paris with the main characters caught in a complex psychological game. It is brilliant, cynical, and erotic in a way that intensifies as the game goes on. It is a game that is one in which the players are unsure of the objective or even the rules. They are even unwilling to take definitive steps, preferring indirect ones, or even avoidance: when, at the end, Mahaut tells her husband she must talk to him before he goes to bed he dallies, hoping she: "would be asleep by the time he walked into her room". This is a book to be savored and searched for deeper understanding of the relationships that exist for these characters. It reminded me in some ways of Proust on a much smaller, yet just as sophisticated, scale.

[Irène Wadowski uliasz · Rating 5 out of 5]

J'ai adoré. je n'avais jamais eu la chance de lire cet auteur mais j'en avais entendu beaucoup de bien . En effet, malgré une histoire basique d'amour (ici un triangle amoureux), on ne tombe pas dans le mélo. c'est bien écrit, structuré sans fioriture. On a l'impression de vivre l'histoire avec ses protagonistes.

[Yves Panis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Comment peut on écrire un tel livre avec une telle maturité dans le style à seulement 19 ans ? Voilà le problème. Après le sublime Diable au corps, il faut lire et relire son deuxième et dernier roman. Et puis c'est tout. Radiguet est vraiment très grand

[David Karacsony · Rating 2 out of 5]

Egészen lesújtó véleménnyel vagyok erről a regényről. A karakterek szinte csak toposzok, a boldogtalan feleség, a szórakozott arisztokrata, a léha bonviván, a többiekről a néven túl alig-alig tudunk meg néhány jellemvonást. A bonviván megismerkedik az arisztokratával, aztán szerelmesek lesznek a feleséggel egymásba, történet vége. Orgel gróf bálja, ami a cselekmény végső kifutása lenne, nem következik be, lezárása nincs a regénynek, nem oldódik fel a bonyodalom, de nem is olyan távolba révedősen ér véget a dolog, csak mintha elvágták volna. Megjelenik benne egy random orosz herceg, néhány szó a bolsevizmusról, a fene érti ezt...

Másrészt nem tudom, hogy Radiguettel van a baj vagy a fordítóval, de tőmondatokban kommunikált, annyira döcögött a szöveg néhol, mint egy óvodás előadáson. Próbált egy szürrealista motívumkészletet belecsempészni két enter közé illesztett random álomszerű beúszásokkal, emlékképekkel, de ezek jelentős része nem sikerült valami meggyőzően, cserébe tovább rontotta a szöveg fragmentáltságát.

Én nem mondom, összevetve Louis Aragon legutóbb olvasott regényével, az Aureliennel, meglepő hasonlóságokat lehet felfedezni, szintén a Szent Lajos szigeten lakik egy család, Aurelien, a léha ifjú szintén a szórakozott patikus boldogtalan feleségébe szeret bele, de először is, ott kibontakozik a tragédia, hatszáz oldalon keresztül építkezik, mélyíti a karakterek jellemét, fejlődési ívet rajzol fel, amire Radiguet garmadányi szereplője 100 oldalban technikailag képtelen, ha még azt is akarjuk, hogy történjen velük valami.

[Mélanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Petit bijou de subtilité et de justesse, l'histoire d'un amour aussi chaste que puissant, et l'illustration du classique triangle amoureux. La valse des sentiments et des non-dits font de se court roman un réel délice de lecture.

[Oscar Wenman-Hyde · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not even close to the masterpiece that is The Devil in the Flesh. It has some gorgeous moments but never quite settled for long enough for you to attach to the characters. The ending is bold but it feels unfinished... I guess that's the point?

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

j'étais assez prise par l'histoire, j'ai bien aimé ce trio et les descriptions des personnages, les enjeux étaient crédibles. J'irai jusqu'à dire que j'ai trouvé ça drôle par moment ! J'ai bien aimé le rythme du livre et là où on pouvait attendre un truc un peu lourd on est surpris comme la fin par exemple que j'ai trouvé réussie.
Après ça reste surtout entertainant à lire je ne sais pas si j'en retient vraiment quelque chose de fort

[Cameron · Rating 3 out of 5]

Difficult list of characters to follow. Some seemed to go by a few different titles and surnames. Could easily be my poor comprehension.

[Cristian Castañeda · Rating 5 out of 5]

«Las palabras tienen un gran poder. Madame de Orgel habíase figurado a sí misma lo bastante libre para atribuir a su predilección por François el sentido que quería. De este modo, había combatido menos a un sentimiento que al temor de darle su verdadero nombre. Hasta aquel entonces había aparejado el amor con el deber; había podido imaginar que los sentimientos prohibidos carecen de dulzura. Había, pues, interpretado mal el suyo hacia François, porque le era dulce. Hoy, este sentimiento, incubado, alimentado y crecido en la sombra, acababa de hacerse identificar.»

Una grata sorpresa esta pequeña novela. La encontré en una librería de segunda mano por apenas dos dólares, y no dudé en adquirirla a pesar de su ejemplar maltrecho. Había leído sobre el autor, a menudo llamado el Rimbaud del siglo XX, y ahora entiendo por qué.

La historia posee la delicadeza de los dramas novelísticos franceses: retrata los pormenores de las relaciones sociales que se trastocan ante la irrupción del deseo. Las etiquetas y máscaras que los personajes emplean para relacionarse quedan en evidencia, expuestas en su fragilidad. Radiguet no solo nos muestra acciones y pensamientos introspectivos, sino que se permite comentarlos con la voz de un narrador extradiegético que revela lo que sus personajes ocultan incluso a sí mismos. Esta exploración psicológica, profunda y sutil, debe mucho a Proust: el conde de Orgel repite en ocasiones los comportamientos vanidosos del duque de Guermantes, y el juego entre apariencia y verdad recuerda al maestro de En busca del tiempo perdido.

Los tres protagonistas del triángulo amoroso central están construidos con una precisión psicológica admirable. Radiguet expone cómo el amor se alimenta de malentendidos: cómo una risa puede interpretarse como un desplante cuando en realidad es todo lo contrario. El deseo nace y crece en los intersticios de lo no dicho, de lo equivocamente nombrado.

El final, sin embargo, me decepcionó levemente. Aunque había leído que era inesperado, esperaba un desenlace más contundente. No obstante, reconozco que es coherente con la arquitectura moral de la obra.

PD: Cocteau, amante de Radiguet, afirmó que esta obra es «más hermosa que Proust y más auténtica que Balzac». Si bien admiro la novela, creo que el elogio de Cocteau nace más del afecto que de la objetividad crítica.

[Slava · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jean Cocteau, it seems to me, said very precisely about this book: more charming than Proust, and more true than Balzac. This is a story of feelings, not events, when it is psychology the true acting figure, and the protagonists are just necessary subjects for its reincarnation. Do not take this definition literally, every well-written work is difficult to place within any framework: there always will be something that can not be transmitted. So the charm of this story lies in the delicacy and brevity with which everything is described.
Despite the fact that the book was written in the early 20-ies of the last century, it can rightfully be attributed to the literature of the gallant age, so far it is from the realities of its time. This is, probably, was one of the reasons why Mishima so appreciated this book. It corresponds to the ideal of low-key samurai beauty, which he (Mishima) used to worship all his life, and is very close in spirit to "Notes at the Head". Salon courtesy and the obligatory observance of the rules of propriety make even the culmination of the love triangle very reserved and discreet, as if told (as it should be) in a muffled whisper.

[Bob · Rating 4 out of 5]

The literary ideal of dying young, leaving behind a handful of perfect work, was carried (unintentionally) to an extreme by Raymond Radiguet who perished in 1923, at age 20, of typhoid fever, leaving behind two highly praised novels, of which this is the latter. Set among the French aristocracy, the central female character is descended of a family that returned from Martinique as the colonial adventure unraveled (which is perhaps supposed to give a hint of some Bertha Mason-esque Caribbean instability) and marries the titular Count. She becomes entangled in a love triangle with a young man, socially correct but of no real position or influence. The adulterous relationship grows through a set of tiny steps - hand-holding here and there, followed by endless anguish, but the Count asserts the solidity of his class by prohibiting any scandal or uproar; "We are not in the Islands. The damage is done, let's fix it."

[Iva · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ovu sam knjigu pokupila isto kada i Cocteau - Užasna djeca zbog povezanosti ta dva autora. Moram priznati da na zanimljiv način Radiguet oblikuje priču i slika stanje određenog sloja društva u doba 20ih. Ovakva vrsta romana me do sad nije pretjerano zanimala, no njegovo skretanje u apsurdnost uzrokovanu poštivanjem nekakvih tradicija i oblika ponašanja su na kraju poprilično zanimljive. Također razumjevanje sjeda na mjesto tek kad se malo odmaknem od ustreptale zagušenosti glavnih likova vlastitim emocijama i konvencijama. Dala bi mu 3.5 zvjezdice, ipak mi je trebalo objašnjenje na kraju knjige da skužim koji vrag se sad dogodio...

[Agnes Fontana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ce court roman est d'une densité psychologique extraordinaire, il réussit là où "la princesse de Clèves" a, j'ose le dire, échoué. Ce que pensent une créole, dame du monde, et un jeune homme débutant dans la vie, qui s'éprennent l'un de l'autre, et comment tout cela se croise avec l'archaïque noblesse de l'époux. Le diable au corps ce n'est rien du tout, lisez donc le bal du comte d'Orgel. Significativement, d'ailleurs, comme rien ne se passe réellement dans ce roman, le bal qui lui donne son titre est un projet qu'on ne voit jamais prendre forme...

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read it because Mishima loved it when he was younger and when he aspired to write a perfect, beautiful piece of literature and then die young but this book was alright. It did build up pretty well, and it was admirable in some ways but frankly nothing spectacular. Maybe I missed something. There is a hint of obsession with purity in here that I know Mishima would have admired and probably also the relationship with Francois' mother, and confession and self-degradation, but idk I think I'm blind to the significance or existence of what this purity is.

[Sunny · Rating 2 out of 5]

oneof the final books that raymond wrote. its about the relationship between a coupl and a friend essentially. for a writer so young raymond can express feelings that you imagine you would be experienceing in the same postion. its a very small book and quite simply in its story line but the way the characters are developed in a short space of time is impressive. nothing on his deevil in teh flesh but still worth the read.

[Caterina]

3 yıldız!

Tanıtım bülteninde Jean Cocteau "Proust'tan daha güzel, Balzac'tan daha gerçek." demiş. Ne yazık ki katılmıyorum. Proust'un derinliğini, Balzac'ın naifliğini göremedim. Eğlenceli olduğu kadar düşündürücü gözlemlere sahip bir hikaye ama kıyaslanacak kadar değil bana göre. Zaten kıyasl mantığına karşıyım özünde, özgünlüğe, kurgunun derinliğine bakmak lâzım.

Farklı bir yayınevinden ve çevirmenden yeniden okuyacağım.

[Andrew · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this short novel about the complexity of relationships bound by social restraints. The style is relatively straightforward but Radiguet skates well through the intricacies of the plot and despite being constantly confused by a male character called "Anne" I found this easy going and succinct. Recommended for those who like this kind of thing.

[aya · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is a purity of expression in this simply written novel. A purity of understanding. The characters' complexities are accepted and offered to the reader humbly and with little prejudice from the writer (although not the narrator). Beautiful.