Madame Bovary

There are several classic novels that I’ve always wanted to read, but, one way or another, they’ve consistently managed to slip through the cracks over the years. After realizing that one or two of the overlooked books that piqued my curiosity were turning up again and again on my ‘To Read’ list, I finally decided to quit procrastinating and curl up with a copy of Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert.

Set in late nineteenth century France, the novel follows the life, adulterous affairs, and subsequent suicide of the heroine, Emma Bovary. Born into a humble farm life, Emma seeks constantly to better her circumstances, ambitiously marrying a widowed doctor from a nearby town. Emma is continually dissatisfied with her life, craving always what she does not possess. When marital peace and motherly contentment elude here, she pursues unrestrained passion (in the form of adultery) and matriarchal freedom (by depositing her daughter with a nanny). But each acquisition of a new fervor invariably leaves her more malcontent and despondent than ever. Additionally, Emma’s conquest for social and materialistic opulence leads to unchecked spending and money borrowing that lands the Bovarys’ deeply in debt. Emma’s doting, moonstruck husband, throughout the novel, remains oblivious to his wife’s affairs, both monetarily and sexually. Finally, unable to cope with yet another fizzled ardor and an insurmountable accumulation of debt, Emma swallows a lethal dose of arsenic and dies.

Though the plotline seems pretty grim, Flaubert’s linguistic artistry arrests the reader’s attention from first to last page. By utilizing language fluctuating between melodic and prosaic and through employment of subtle, almost subliminal, atmospheric tones, Flaubert paints a rich picture of Emma’s perception of the world. The author painstakingly illustrates the insipidity of small-town life in general, but particularly regarding all aspects of life that bore and frustrate Emma. The composition reflects Emma’s restlessness through the tediousness of all the people in her life. Yet, when the heroine’s passion ignites so, too, does the prose. The world has never seemed as awake and teeming with vivaciousness as it does when Emma’s enthusiasms are aroused.

But the charisma of Madame Bovary doesn’t lie solely in Flaubert’s magnificent prose. The novel was notoriously tried as obscene and pornographic literature after its initial release in the late 1800’s. However, the book has retained its place as a canonical classic primarily because of the universality of its themes. Both inherently simple and infinitely complex, the novel’s commentary on the social constraints of women and language’s insufficiency to relate emotion, impel Madame Bovary past the ‘Paperback’ bin onto the ‘Classic Literature’ shelf. Though the novel deals intensely with motifs of flagrant adultery, individual restlessness, and selfish puerility, Flaubert stops short of condemning his characters directly, particularly Emma. He presents them, foibles and all, and lets the reader make up her own mind.

At one time or another, I think many people can relate to the feeling of nameless discontentment that breeds dissatisfaction within a perfectly adequate life. The struggle to define and alleviate this restlessness often disappears after a time or gets pushed aside to make room for more tangible imbroglios. In Emma’s case, her inability to get a hold on these feelings incites her to lascivious, extravagant behavior, and, when that isn’t enough, death. Maybe hers is an extreme version of detachment, but Emma’s ultimate moral lesson, coupled with Flaubert’s ability to mold beauty and instruction out of the deplorable and unsightly, make this novel well worth a visit to the local library.