The Elementary Particles

by Michel Houellebecq

Just as determining the apparatus for an experiment and choosing one or more observables made it possible to assign a specific behavior to an atomic system—now particle, now wave—so could Bruno be seen as an individual or, from another point of view, as passively caught up in the sweep of history. His motives, values and desires did not distinguish him from his contemporaries in any way.

displacement activity. Early in 1986, just after he turned thirty, Bruno began to write.

“No metaphysical mutation takes place,” Djerzinski would write many years later, “without first being announced. The radical change is preceded by many minor mutations—facilitators whose historic appearance often goes unnoticed at the time. I consider myself to have been one such mutation.”

“An idea which evolves in a single mind, without the counterbalance of debate, can nonetheless avoid the pitfalls of idiosyncrasy and folly.

presents his idea in the form of a quasi-Socratic dialogue.

He believed that his principal contribution to human evolution was his work in biophysics, which he had developed within the classical scientific con...

the more philosophical elements of his later works were never more than rash, even crazy conjectures, which he recorded less for their intrinsic claims to ...

When we think about the present, we veer wildly between the belief in chance and the evidence in favor of determinism. When we think about the past, however, there is no more doubt: it seems obvious that everything happened in the way it was intended.

Reality, memory, past & present

seen through this perceptual illusion, based as it was on an ontology of objects and intrinsic properties and dependent on a strong notion of external reality.

This evening, Djerzinski had a faint but definite feeling that Bruno’s tortuous, pathetic tale was tending toward some conclusion; words would be spoken and—for the first time—these words would have meaning and finality. He stood up and went to the bathroom, where discreetly, without a sound, he vomited. He splashed water on his face and went back to the living room.

Relation??

was stunned when my paper was badly received by my ‘Living with Faith’ group in Dijon; they criticized the Pope’s position on abortion, condoms—all that rubbish. I have to admit I didn’t make much of an effort to see their point of view,

smiling like a half-wit,

The evenings she was out, I’d put a sedative into Victor’s bottle, log on to the Minitel and jerk off, but I never actually met anyone in person.

The minute I walked into the bedroom I knew it had been a lousy idea. Her sagging ass was squeezed into the garters and her tits had never really recovered from breast-feeding. She needed liposuction, silicone implants, the works—though

Thinking about her rough, pink tongue, I managed to come in my wife’s mouth.

The only way in which we can live our lives is through sex

recalcitrant

Between the ages of two and four, human children acquire a sense of self, which manifests itself in displays of megalomaniacal histrionics.

He crushed two Lexomil, mashed them into a spoonful of jam and headed toward Victor’s room. The child had crapped itself. Where the fuck was Anne?

As he slipped inside her, she tightened her vagina and he had three whole minutes of complete contentment.

“Excellent, also excellent—you’re a real reactionary, that’s good. All the great writers were reactionaries: Balzac, Baudelaire, Flaubert, Dostoyevsky. But you have to fuck, too, you know? You have to fuck as much as possible—that’s important.”

Anotghed man tellinv him to fuck prolbs will ruin him

Tears continued to stream down his face as he thought about his son. Poor

Men and children duality of life complexities of emotion well captured

He’d given the boy few moments of happiness and fewer still of love—now the boy was fourteen and the time for happiness was over.

At the time everyone believed—or pretended to believe—that a woman’s career was essential to her self-esteem,

knew perfectly well that the real reason we were going back to Paris was to make the divorce easier.

When she lay on her stomach you could see her cellulite, and when she turned onto her back you could see her stretch marks.

wasn’t really worth getting skin cancer just so I could go back to the room at night and jerk off.

Niced vacation...

was a bastard; I knew I was being a bastard. Parents usually make sacrifices for their kid—that’s how it’s supposed to be. I just couldn’t cope with the fact that I wasn’t young anymore; my son was going to grow up and he would get to be young instead and he might make something of his life, while I had failed in mine. I wanted to be an individual entity again.”

Regret

monad,”

“I do love my son,” Bruno said. “If he had an accident, if anything happened to him, I couldn’t bear it. I love that kid more than anything, but I’ve never even been able to accept his existence.”

Wtf haha

Write something about blood;

Some days later, when he turned up the piece of paper, he discovered the words “blood is thicker than water” written underneath; for ten minutes he stood there completely mystified.

lace

Always something in lace eh?

curtains had been cleaned and smelled lovely,

sunlight flickered through the gap in the curtains,

Bruno opened a bottle of white wine. He had never spoken to anyone about the years that followed his return from Dijon; he wanted to now.

Is he in love? does the desire to share issues really mean that you have hope?

I felt he had nothing but contempt for me, which made me feel better.

My case didn’t really interest him much, but I didn’t hold that against him—after all, it was terribly banal.

I was just one more frustrated, aging fucker who didn’t find his wife attractive anymore.

suppose that’s old age for you. Emotional reactions are dulled; you harbor little resentment and little joy. You spend most of your time worrying about the functioning of your organs, about their precarious equilibrium.

Ageing

In these rooms, other boys had hit me and humiliated me. They’d spit on me, pissed on me, pushed my head into the toilet and enjoyed it, but I didn’t feel anything.

And they weren’t virgins, either—you could tell. They

“The problems started when I decided I might have a chance. A

It probably sounds strange now, but in the seventies nobody really cared how big their dick was.

Defrance did his philosophical striptease and propounded his pro-youth ass-kissing.

Mallarmé—what the fuck was the point? This is the way Western civilization

always kept the windows closed while they were working; the girls would get hot and take off their sweaters, their T-shirts sticking to their breasts.

bloodline

Blood

The Duchesse de Guermantes has a lot less dough than Snoop Doggy Dogg; Snoop has less than Bill Gates, but he gets the girls wet.

Literary fame is a poor substitute for real stardom,