Monday, July 23, 2007

Hot cha cha



This is the one I want to see.

"Michael Lucas' Dangerous Liaisons" — a gay pornographic film directed by Michael Lucas based on "Les Liaisons Dangereuses," set in the fashion industry of modern-day New York City. There is also a documentary about that film called "More Dangerous: The Making of Michael Lucas' Dangerous Liaisons."

Sweet.

franco flick


I recently watched a movie version of "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" that I'd been seeking for a while. This French version starred Jeanne Moreau (the allure for me) and GĂ©rard Philipe, and set it in the 1950s, featuring music from Thelonious Monk.

It was a fine, but not great, adaptation (unlike the fabulous '88 version with Glenn Close), but it worked with an interesting premise: Juliette de Merteuil and Vicomte de Valmont were a married couple with political aspirations, and they tolerated affairs and intrigues to keep their love "fresh." In a way it worked, opening a lot of freedom for each partner under the protection of marriage to explore their sexual proclivities. It was the kind of arrangement the book's characters would have thrived under, if only the time and circumstances wouldn't have threatened the marquise's independence. Compare that to Juliette de Merteuil musing to her husband that they were the only couple amongst their friends not to divorce. Maybe some of the tension didn't work in this movie version, though, because society's mores were sufficiently relaxed that neither Juliette nor the film's de Tourvel really faced scandal and ruin if their sexual exploits were exposed.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Francophilia

Have you read any other French novels? If so, what is your favorite?

Friday, July 20, 2007

Danceny, you jackass

Really, the only character to come out of this unpunished is Danceny. And what does he do? He imposes himself on a convent innocent (demands that Cecile reply to his letters, then barely thanks her for taking this reputation-threatening step before lamenting for a kiss). He takes up with the marquise. He feels entitled to challenge Valmont for "seducing" Cecile even though he's been unfaithful to her (nor does Danceny's code of honor extend to include the man to whom Cecile is betrothed). Then -- ooops -- he kills Valmont. Then he wants Madame Rosamonde to spare him legal accountability, because he didn't really mean to do it. Then he has a fit of pique and shares letters that, even if they served Valmont's dying wishes, jeopardizes other innocents in the marquise's path.

Then he goes off with the Knights of Malta. Scarred? Maybe a little. But did Danceny deserve more?

Tragic figure?

Did the characters give Valmont a free pass for his behavior -- which I think was no better than the marquise's -- because he died and deserved mercy? Or was it because he was a man?

Decadence

(I have to write a new post just so I don't see the word "Rape" every time I look at the blog).

From what I've read, no one really knows what Laclos' intentions were in writing "Dangerous Liaisons," although he apparently wrote it at a remote army outpost as a way to erase the boredom. The first edition sold out in Paris in less than a week, and one fan was Marie Antoinette. Many critics have suggested that it was a morality tale about the French aristocracy, who were moving rapidly toward the guillotine on a wave of revolt. Other critics have pointed out that the book was beloved by the aristocracy, that virtually all the characters in it are aristocrats, that the "editor" is neutral and that the author himself was aligned with that social class. What do you think? Did you see any indications that the book was meant to be an indictment of the decadent upper class?

(I also read that this is the only novel he ever wrote. And he only published two other things, one being a tract criticizing the system of female education, which I'd like to read because I think "DL" is clearly an indictment of the way women were living and being treated. I think you could argue until the cows come home whether he was a feminist per se, as many claim, but I don't think it's arguable that he concerned himself, regardless of side-taking, with issues that are important to feminists.)

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Rape

Ben and Erin's references to rape in "The Manipulated" gave me pause, because I didn't give Valmont's sexual domination of Tourvel or Cecile the consideration it deserved. It made me quite uncomfortable.

I asked myself what I first thought of Cecile's submission. First, she was a "dolt," so I didn't care very much. (Did I think she was "asking for it"?) Two, she admitted she derived physical pleasure from Valmont's advances. (Did I think a body's physical response negates the intent?) No!

So didn't Valmont rape her, by using fear and intimidation to seduce her? Yes.

It puts Valmont in a different light -- his actions can't be dismissed as those of an amorous scamp.

Do you find it incongruous that Valmont and the marquise would repeatedly assert how easy it would be to seduce a silly girl like Cecile, yet Valmont had to resort to threats rather than seduction to accomplish his mission?

Now I need to think more on Valmont's ravishment of Tourvel. I saw that as more of a mutual passion, but that requires further reflection. (So I thought she was "saying no, but meaning yes?") Oh, god.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Age before beauty

What did you think of the use of Madame de Rosemonde as a multipurpose confidante? Was her being at the hub significant in terms of a moral center? What role did her physical decrepitude play?

Novel form

It's always a matter of personal taste when it comes to superlatives, but a lot of people seem to agree that this is the best epistolary novel ever written. For my part, I haven't read one to top it. Do you think this novel, which is also talked about as the first important and "mature" psychological novel, could have been as interesting written in a non-epistolary form?

What do you think the letters added to it?

For me, the biggest problem would seem to be personalizing each character. I wonder if that could be done as effectively without using personal letters as the device. Then there would be the problem of narrative point of view. And, perhaps most importantly, "moral" point of view; as it is, the collection of letters — a "found" story, as it were — tends to distance the "editor" from the action in a way that another kind of narrator would not be.

Jane Austen, the mother of the modern novel, began "Sense and Sensibility" a couple of decades later as an epistolary work, but abandoned that form in favor of a straightforward narrative and the more modern style that came to be identified with her.

Any thoughts on this and the choices/sacrifices/advantages involved?

(I thought the Close/Malkovich movie did a really fantastic job translating letters into scenes, particulary the chateau scene between the marquise and Cecile and the "war" scene between the marquise and Valmont).

Memorable moments

What were your favorite scenes from the book?

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Sophistry — and Sapphistry?

Cecile writes to Sophie: It seems to me that I love her (the marquise) more like Danceny than like you, and sometimes I wish she were he.

And: She scolds me sometimes ... but then I kiss her with all my heart until she is no longer vexed. At least I can love her as much as I like without there being anything wrong in it, and it gives me a great deal of pleasure.

And the marquise says of her: She is really delicious! She has neither character nor principles.

And: Really, I am almost jealous of the man for whom this pleasure is reserved.

And: I acted as her waiting woman ... her shoulders and breasts were entirely uncovered. I kissed her; she let me take her in my arms ... Heavens! How beautiful she was! Ah! if Magdalene was like this she must have been far more dangerous as a penitent than as a sinner.

Two words: Whatever, Ellen!

Letter LXXXI

The marquise's "manifesto" is at the heart of the novel, literally (almost exactly in the middle) and figuratively. It purports to explain how the marquise developed her outlook on life, how she resolved to not be like other women, who were ignored and ill-used and denied worldly pleasures, who were taught to concern themselves with "womanly virtues." It contains the prophetic, "I was born to avenge my sex and to dominate yours" and "I must conquer or perish." Did you feel more or less sympathetic to her after reading this letter?

Encore

Valmont writes, of his expected sexual victory with the marquise, "I desire it as if we had never known each other ... to have known you is perhaps a reason for desiring it the more."

Why was the prize of her favors so extremely valuable to him, even though he had already "known" her (the standard then for a man losing most sexual interest in a woman)? For me, this is somehow the most important question in the book.

The manipulated

Which victim excited the most pity in you? Did you ever have the feeling, along with a sense of pity, that one of them got what he/she deserved?

Amour

Who do you think best understood the nature and value of love?

Just deserts?

Did you find the book's ending satisfying? Why do you think the author had Valmont die and the marquise live (in disgrace, with smallpox)?

Dangerous Liaisons

Whose letters did you enjoy the most?

Sunday, July 15, 2007