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Incest
Incest is a chilling tale of sexual experimentation and philosophical exploration carried to its most logical—and devastating—extreme. Marquis de Sade’s semi-autobiographical protagonist, Monsieur de Franval, is rich, handsome, intelligent, and thoroughly immoral. When he marries a pious woman and fathers a daughter, he is determined to educate his progeny to be “free.” The ultimate proof of his daughter’s unfettered liberty? That she become his secret lover. But when the beautiful and accomplished daughter spurns an eligible young bachelor, instead declaring her intention to remain with her father, her naïve and doting mother’s suspicions are at last aroused. Confused and distressed by her daughter’s behavior, Madame de Franval confronts her husband—with tragic results. A challenging and breathtaking masterpiece, Incest is a sober portrait of catastrophe in the midst of excess.
112 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1800
About the author
Marquis de Sade
488 books1,984 followersA preoccupation with sexual violence characterizes novels, plays, and short stories that Donatien Alphonse François, comte de Sade but known as marquis de Sade, of France wrote. After this writer derives the word sadism, the deriving of sexual gratification from fantasies or acts that involve causing other persons to suffer physical or mental pain.
This aristocrat, revolutionary politician, and philosopher exhibited famous libertine lifestyle.
His works include dialogues and political tracts; in his lifetime, he published some works under his own name and denied authorship of apparently anonymous other works. His best erotic works combined philosophical discourse with pornography and depicted fantasies with an emphasis on criminality and blasphemy against the Catholic Church. Morality, religion or law restrained not his "extreme freedom." Various prisons and an insane asylum incarcerated the aristocrat for 32 years of his life: ten years in the Bastile, another year elsewhere in Paris, a month in Conciergerie, two years in a fortress, a year in Madelonnettes, three years in Bicêtre, a year in Sainte-Pélagie, and 13 years in the Charenton asylum. During the French revolution, people elected this criminal as delegate to the National Convention. He wrote many of his works in prison.
This aristocrat, revolutionary politician, and philosopher exhibited famous libertine lifestyle.
His works include dialogues and political tracts; in his lifetime, he published some works under his own name and denied authorship of apparently anonymous other works. His best erotic works combined philosophical discourse with pornography and depicted fantasies with an emphasis on criminality and blasphemy against the Catholic Church. Morality, religion or law restrained not his "extreme freedom." Various prisons and an insane asylum incarcerated the aristocrat for 32 years of his life: ten years in the Bastile, another year elsewhere in Paris, a month in Conciergerie, two years in a fortress, a year in Madelonnettes, three years in Bicêtre, a year in Sainte-Pélagie, and 13 years in the Charenton asylum. During the French revolution, people elected this criminal as delegate to the National Convention. He wrote many of his works in prison.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews
February 25, 2024
That's a pretty lovely novel, especially for fans of the style and writing of the Marquis de Sade. This story can shock since the main character, Eugenie, tries to seduce her father at fourteen while the latter gives her an education without morals or religion.
August 8, 2022
It's sometimes hard to come to a valid conclusion as to where the Marquis actually stands on libertine philosophy. All of his books contain long, logic-based expositions and defenses (although he would never claim a need to defend it) of libertinism by his characters who embrace and practice it. These are also used to mock and ridicule those who think the world and people should deal fairly with all. Occasionally though, he surprises his readers with a story that vividly depicts the dire consequences that may accrue to a life devoted exclusively to libertine excesses. This is such a story. It's not for those whose sensibilities are easily bruised, but if you can handle it, it's worth a read for what it may reveal to you about yourself.
November 4, 2017
Daha önce 'Ensest' ismiyle başka bir yayınevi tarafından yayımlanan romanının yeni çevirisi ve baskısı çok iyi olmuş, onu belirtmek isterim. Umarım Chiviyazıları yazarın bütün eserlerini benzer özenle bizimle buluşturur.
Doğası gereği tabu olan ensest olayına daha farklı bir kanaldan yaklaşan Sade, bu konudaki yargıların evrensel özellik göstermediği; ulusal ya da bölgesel olabildiğinin altını çiziyor. Trajedi niteliği taşıyan bir öykü yazmış olsa da, hikayenin son bölümünü bir kenara koyarsak, bize yine benzersiz karakterler ve düşünceler sunuyor. Özellikle diyalog olarak yazılmış uzun pasajlarda, ensest ve genel geçer ahlakla ilgili yazarın sorgulayıcı ve yeni fikirler üretici eleştirel yaklaşımı beni çok etkiledi. Sade bütün eserlerinde yer alan koşulsuz özgürlük talebini, yine haz odaklı bir noktadan aktarmayı tercih etmiş. Nefes aldıran, beklediğim gibi bir okuma oldu.
Cinsel tabulara, sansürlere inat Marquis de Sade diyorum!:)
İyi okumalar!
7/10
Doğası gereği tabu olan ensest olayına daha farklı bir kanaldan yaklaşan Sade, bu konudaki yargıların evrensel özellik göstermediği; ulusal ya da bölgesel olabildiğinin altını çiziyor. Trajedi niteliği taşıyan bir öykü yazmış olsa da, hikayenin son bölümünü bir kenara koyarsak, bize yine benzersiz karakterler ve düşünceler sunuyor. Özellikle diyalog olarak yazılmış uzun pasajlarda, ensest ve genel geçer ahlakla ilgili yazarın sorgulayıcı ve yeni fikirler üretici eleştirel yaklaşımı beni çok etkiledi. Sade bütün eserlerinde yer alan koşulsuz özgürlük talebini, yine haz odaklı bir noktadan aktarmayı tercih etmiş. Nefes aldıran, beklediğim gibi bir okuma oldu.
Cinsel tabulara, sansürlere inat Marquis de Sade diyorum!:)
İyi okumalar!
7/10
November 13, 2017
Would you believe me if I told you I had never heard of this writer nor the book when I bought it? Of course, I hadn't read the blurb as always. Now don't go asking me how do I choose my books without reading the blurb! It's a secret I am not going to divulge. It requires a lot of strategizing and plotting and planning so not your cup of tea, I am sure. :p
So when a Goodreads group presented a monthly challenge to read books that have pages between 100 and 200, amongst hordes of books, this came up in my search. This book often sat peeking at me from behind the other books in my shelves (with that cover, it can't get the front space, ya know) and I was afraid of picking it up because it looked like a classic (yeah didn't bother to check the genre either, classic me! Pun intended). However, I believed this was the right moment to get this book out of the way. And I did.
To my pleasant surprise, it read smoothly and quickly. In fact, I started it a bit after midnight and wanted to finish it. But the thought of getting up early for work, made me give up halfway through the book. The first thing I did after getting back from work was to pick it up and read, read, read until I finished. *Sigh* The 100ish pages helped. It really is ideal to be read in one sitting.
Now, what did I think of it? Phew, tough question. Good thing I was warned a bit of strong content by the introduction. So there wasn't much that really took me aback or shocked me. I kind of went with the flow. Of course, the subject is cringe-worthy. It may come across as downright disgusting or nauseating for some so caution is advised. Absolutely not for below 16, better 18. The subject is an interesting one. The language is simple to comprehend yet beautiful in the way it flows. I especially appreciated the debates between Franval and the clergyman. Some food for thought really. And a glimpse into the manipulating, cunning nature of humankind to get what it wants, whatever the costs be and to whomever.
It certainly made for an interesting read. It also piqued my interest in Sade. I was astonished to read he spent 32 years of his life in prisons and asylums and wrote most of his work in prison. Wow, what a sad life, really. I will definitely be reading more by him although I have been sufficiently warned.
P. S. Heard about 'sadism'? He's the one from where the term originated-after his name.
P. P. S Whatever the book may have you believe, no, a father marrying a daughter is not permissible on the banks of Ganges!! And to the best of my knowledge, never was. Ugh.
So when a Goodreads group presented a monthly challenge to read books that have pages between 100 and 200, amongst hordes of books, this came up in my search. This book often sat peeking at me from behind the other books in my shelves (with that cover, it can't get the front space, ya know) and I was afraid of picking it up because it looked like a classic (yeah didn't bother to check the genre either, classic me! Pun intended). However, I believed this was the right moment to get this book out of the way. And I did.
To my pleasant surprise, it read smoothly and quickly. In fact, I started it a bit after midnight and wanted to finish it. But the thought of getting up early for work, made me give up halfway through the book. The first thing I did after getting back from work was to pick it up and read, read, read until I finished. *Sigh* The 100ish pages helped. It really is ideal to be read in one sitting.
Now, what did I think of it? Phew, tough question. Good thing I was warned a bit of strong content by the introduction. So there wasn't much that really took me aback or shocked me. I kind of went with the flow. Of course, the subject is cringe-worthy. It may come across as downright disgusting or nauseating for some so caution is advised. Absolutely not for below 16, better 18. The subject is an interesting one. The language is simple to comprehend yet beautiful in the way it flows. I especially appreciated the debates between Franval and the clergyman. Some food for thought really. And a glimpse into the manipulating, cunning nature of humankind to get what it wants, whatever the costs be and to whomever.
It certainly made for an interesting read. It also piqued my interest in Sade. I was astonished to read he spent 32 years of his life in prisons and asylums and wrote most of his work in prison. Wow, what a sad life, really. I will definitely be reading more by him although I have been sufficiently warned.
P. S. Heard about 'sadism'? He's the one from where the term originated-after his name.
P. P. S Whatever the book may have you believe, no, a father marrying a daughter is not permissible on the banks of Ganges!! And to the best of my knowledge, never was. Ugh.
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July 8, 2020Not rating the book because I feel confused and divided about the book.
As someone who works in the child rights and child protection space, this book made me outrightly uncomfortable. I know I read Lolita around 7-8 years ago and thought "The premise is controversial, but look how beautiful the prose is." I don't think I'm that person anymore. I am not a prude when it comes to reading about sexual adventures, but I draw the line when it involves a child.
The introduction of this edition compares Incest to Lolita and lists down some remarkable similarities. The father, M. de Franval set his eyes on his daughter the moment she was born and separated her from her mother. Who looks at a newborn baby and finds them desirable? Well, we've clearly established that Franval's propensity towards his infant child was an unnatural proclivity. The book goes on to suggest that since the father is responsible for his daughter's utmost happiness, what's the harm if he's the one who's giving her that. What he does to his daughter is contentiously known as 'grooming'. It is when you condition a person into believing that the wrong happening to him/her is completely natural and is the way of life.
During his lifetime, Sade was known to abuse both men and women. There are instances of him abusing children and mistreating the persons he would pay for sexual favours. He was incarcerated multiple times, and has written a lot of his works while he was in prison. What I was not aware of, was that the words sadist and sadism have been derived from his name. Wow. I wouldn't want to be that person.
As someone who works in the child rights and child protection space, this book made me outrightly uncomfortable. I know I read Lolita around 7-8 years ago and thought "The premise is controversial, but look how beautiful the prose is." I don't think I'm that person anymore. I am not a prude when it comes to reading about sexual adventures, but I draw the line when it involves a child.
The introduction of this edition compares Incest to Lolita and lists down some remarkable similarities. The father, M. de Franval set his eyes on his daughter the moment she was born and separated her from her mother. Who looks at a newborn baby and finds them desirable? Well, we've clearly established that Franval's propensity towards his infant child was an unnatural proclivity. The book goes on to suggest that since the father is responsible for his daughter's utmost happiness, what's the harm if he's the one who's giving her that. What he does to his daughter is contentiously known as 'grooming'. It is when you condition a person into believing that the wrong happening to him/her is completely natural and is the way of life.
During his lifetime, Sade was known to abuse both men and women. There are instances of him abusing children and mistreating the persons he would pay for sexual favours. He was incarcerated multiple times, and has written a lot of his works while he was in prison. What I was not aware of, was that the words sadist and sadism have been derived from his name. Wow. I wouldn't want to be that person.
July 27, 2016
Marquis de Sade doesn't hold anything back.
Now I understand why the words sadism and sadist are divided from his name!
Now I understand why the words sadism and sadist are divided from his name!
December 30, 2018
Μια "αρχαία" τραγωδία, τοποθετημένη στην εποχή του Διαφωτισμού.
Δεν μπορείς να ταυτιστείς με κάποιον ήρωα, για προφανείς λόγους, αλλά παρακολουθείς με αμείωτο ενδιαφέρον την εξέλιξη της πορείας τους. Προτείνεται ανεπιφύλακτα για λάτρεις της φιλοσοφίας.
Δεν μπορείς να ταυτιστείς με κάποιον ήρωα, για προφανείς λόγους, αλλά παρακολουθείς με αμείωτο ενδιαφέρον την εξέλιξη της πορείας τους. Προτείνεται ανεπιφύλακτα για λάτρεις της φιλοσοφίας.
April 22, 2014
Eloquently written. Sade at his best.
April 15, 2010
Like most of de Sade's works - to be honest, I've only read Justine, about half of The Crimes of Love, and a piece called "Dialogue between a Priest and a Dying Man" - Incest is down right depraved. Compared to Nabokov's Lolita in the Introduction by the translator as "what we know to be the hellish world of child abuse." I find Andrew Brown's comparison to Lolita unfair to both writers. While Lolita deals with similar decadence, if read closely, it is nothing more than a dark comedy about a man making an attempt to justify his lust for his step-daughter who is far from an innocent party - have we all forgotten the several times she used Humbert Humbert's own lust against him, eventually running away with Quilty?
No, the crimes in Incest are far worst. Unlike Humbert, whose sole reason - it would seem - was to relive the short love life of his adolescent self, Franval's reasons are less than misguided; he knows full well exactly what he wants and how to get it. Upon her birth, Franval whisks Eugenie away from her mother and hides her away from all social norms - religion (I don't consider this a social norm) and relationships. While he does hire the daughters of house servants and swears more than once that he isn't keeping Eugenie against her will, we pretty much see the deviance that thrives from each chamber of his heart.
And unlike Humbert, who continues to believe that he only did what was expected of him - doesn't he say more than once (in different variations) that all wise men have relationships with younger girls? - Franval sees the error of his way. While Humbert doesn't grow much as a character in the end, Franval does what is expected of him in the end - repentance for his sins.
No, the crimes in Incest are far worst. Unlike Humbert, whose sole reason - it would seem - was to relive the short love life of his adolescent self, Franval's reasons are less than misguided; he knows full well exactly what he wants and how to get it. Upon her birth, Franval whisks Eugenie away from her mother and hides her away from all social norms - religion (I don't consider this a social norm) and relationships. While he does hire the daughters of house servants and swears more than once that he isn't keeping Eugenie against her will, we pretty much see the deviance that thrives from each chamber of his heart.
And unlike Humbert, who continues to believe that he only did what was expected of him - doesn't he say more than once (in different variations) that all wise men have relationships with younger girls? - Franval sees the error of his way. While Humbert doesn't grow much as a character in the end, Franval does what is expected of him in the end - repentance for his sins.
September 5, 2016
Επειδή είχα καιρό να διαβάσω κάτι άρρωστο, είπα να μη χάσω την ευκαιρία.
Περιληπτικά: ένας Γάλλος ευγενής ερωτεύεται την ίδια του την κόρη απο την στιγμή της γέννησής της. Αποφασίζει να την αναθρέψει σύμφωνα με τις δικές του επιθυμίες ώστε άμεσα να την κάνει δική του. Για να μη σας τα πολυλογώ, τα καταφέρνει... (Είπαμε, δεν ειναι τόσο πορνογράφημα όσο κάποια άλλα έργα του αλλά λίγη ανωμαλία ειναι απαραίτητη)
Η μητέρα της νεαράς διακορευθείσας, αποφασίζει να παρει την κατάσταση στα χέρια της και να απαλλάξει την μικρή απο τον σατυρο πατέρα. Αυτά και ακόμα λιγο θα μας οδηγήσουν σε ένα λυτρωτικό τέλος, αντάξιο μιας αρχαίας τραγωδίας.
Αξίζει να αναφέρω πως μέσα σε όλη την σκηνή που περιέγραψα, υπάρχουν οι συνηθισμένοι προβληματισμοί του μαρκησίου για την θρησκεία, την ηθική και τις κοινωνικές συνθήκες. Πολύ καλό έργο καθώς συμπυκνώνει τις ιδέες και την ζωή του Μαρκησίου σε μικρό και περιεκτικό κείμενο.
Περιληπτικά: ένας Γάλλος ευγενής ερωτεύεται την ίδια του την κόρη απο την στιγμή της γέννησής της. Αποφασίζει να την αναθρέψει σύμφωνα με τις δικές του επιθυμίες ώστε άμεσα να την κάνει δική του. Για να μη σας τα πολυλογώ, τα καταφέρνει... (Είπαμε, δεν ειναι τόσο πορνογράφημα όσο κάποια άλλα έργα του αλλά λίγη ανωμαλία ειναι απαραίτητη)
Η μητέρα της νεαράς διακορευθείσας, αποφασίζει να παρει την κατάσταση στα χέρια της και να απαλλάξει την μικρή απο τον σατυρο πατέρα. Αυτά και ακόμα λιγο θα μας οδηγήσουν σε ένα λυτρωτικό τέλος, αντάξιο μιας αρχαίας τραγωδίας.
Αξίζει να αναφέρω πως μέσα σε όλη την σκηνή που περιέγραψα, υπάρχουν οι συνηθισμένοι προβληματισμοί του μαρκησίου για την θρησκεία, την ηθική και τις κοινωνικές συνθήκες. Πολύ καλό έργο καθώς συμπυκνώνει τις ιδέες και την ζωή του Μαρκησίου σε μικρό και περιεκτικό κείμενο.
July 1, 2015
Deep down I think that this was every woman’s fear. Their daughter, a younger and prettier version of themselves, will steal their husband’s (or boyfriend’s) affections from them. I don’t necessarily mean romantic affections either, wives could fear the husband will spend more time with the daughter or show her more attention and forget about the wife. Of course women won’t admit it, or even realize this is how they feel because we live in a society where we are told genetic attraction is wrong and punishable by law in some areas. So they feel a sense of security.
In the book, it is discussed that some cultures Incest happens on some level, it is expected and accepted. It happens enough among humans there is even a name for it, Genetic Sexual Attraction. To a small degree, GSA is in all of us bred from nurture. The old adage of a girl looks to her father for qualities in her future husband, and boys look to their mothers for qualities they want in a future bride. I have even seen a commercial where a father takes his 4or 5 year old daughter on a date to show her what to expect of men when she is allowed to date.
The author even uses the story of Lot from the Bible as a justification for his actions. Personally I cannot speak about that story as I have not read it, but the author uses the excuse of “if it is all right with the lord why is it not right for me” spiel that a lot of people like using for their own means. I find this ironic because he is against religion and the Bible in general, so why would he use this as a right to have sex with his daughter? Aside form being stupid, it is quite genius because the character knows it is the only way they will understand, as well as point out the hypocritical use of the Bible. Religious people are always picking and choosing certain passages of the Bible to use as it fits their situation because they readily admit the parts they don’t use are archaic in design.
While some men are of the mind that it is a father’s duty to prepare their daughter’s for life and sex, in this case I believe Franval went around it wrong. He kept Eugenie locked away from the world and other men, to keep her away from any other choice but him. It would have been different if she were around other people and had a chance to fall for someone else. Then Franval could have instructed her (be it verbally or physically, truer to De Sade’s writing) on how to please a man of her choosing. It would be no less shocking than how things actually pan out in the book.
Another theme in this book is that married couples are unhappy. Of course this is from a somewhat depressing time period, but I still like to think if they were so unhappy they could have divorced, but with the wife worshipping the ground he walked on that wouldn’t have happened.
Overall I’m not sure how I feel about the book. Which is why it only rates 3/5.
Recommend: if you have an open mind and not going to criticize it at every turn, then yes.
In the book, it is discussed that some cultures Incest happens on some level, it is expected and accepted. It happens enough among humans there is even a name for it, Genetic Sexual Attraction. To a small degree, GSA is in all of us bred from nurture. The old adage of a girl looks to her father for qualities in her future husband, and boys look to their mothers for qualities they want in a future bride. I have even seen a commercial where a father takes his 4or 5 year old daughter on a date to show her what to expect of men when she is allowed to date.
The author even uses the story of Lot from the Bible as a justification for his actions. Personally I cannot speak about that story as I have not read it, but the author uses the excuse of “if it is all right with the lord why is it not right for me” spiel that a lot of people like using for their own means. I find this ironic because he is against religion and the Bible in general, so why would he use this as a right to have sex with his daughter? Aside form being stupid, it is quite genius because the character knows it is the only way they will understand, as well as point out the hypocritical use of the Bible. Religious people are always picking and choosing certain passages of the Bible to use as it fits their situation because they readily admit the parts they don’t use are archaic in design.
While some men are of the mind that it is a father’s duty to prepare their daughter’s for life and sex, in this case I believe Franval went around it wrong. He kept Eugenie locked away from the world and other men, to keep her away from any other choice but him. It would have been different if she were around other people and had a chance to fall for someone else. Then Franval could have instructed her (be it verbally or physically, truer to De Sade’s writing) on how to please a man of her choosing. It would be no less shocking than how things actually pan out in the book.
Another theme in this book is that married couples are unhappy. Of course this is from a somewhat depressing time period, but I still like to think if they were so unhappy they could have divorced, but with the wife worshipping the ground he walked on that wouldn’t have happened.
Overall I’m not sure how I feel about the book. Which is why it only rates 3/5.
Recommend: if you have an open mind and not going to criticize it at every turn, then yes.
June 16, 2020
3.5/5.
This reads like an Indian commercial film but with the added bonus of incest. It’s exactly like a film, it has revenge, it has a man who hates his wife and wants her to die, it has action, it has murder, it has chases with horses- the whole lot.
It’s about Franval, who marries a young woman, has a daughter with her and then seduces the daughter, Eugenie. He doesn’t let Eugenie study what normal children do, he teaches her philosophy and languages. HIS philosophy, particularly, bringing in this Electra complex but not naturally. Franval educates Eugenie about his own philosophy and makes her hate her mother with a vengeance.
It’s a good book, it’s scandalous and quite realistic.
This reads like an Indian commercial film but with the added bonus of incest. It’s exactly like a film, it has revenge, it has a man who hates his wife and wants her to die, it has action, it has murder, it has chases with horses- the whole lot.
It’s about Franval, who marries a young woman, has a daughter with her and then seduces the daughter, Eugenie. He doesn’t let Eugenie study what normal children do, he teaches her philosophy and languages. HIS philosophy, particularly, bringing in this Electra complex but not naturally. Franval educates Eugenie about his own philosophy and makes her hate her mother with a vengeance.
It’s a good book, it’s scandalous and quite realistic.
March 2, 2011
I always wanted to read a book by Marquis de Sade, and Incest was the perfect choice after reading The Kiss. This is about an evil man who decides that he will make love to his daughter when she reaches the age of 14. But his aim is for her to want it too. So he separates her from her mother right from birth and brings her up in a certain way. She is not allowed to call him father, only friend or by certain names. She has only private tutors and is thouroughly kept away from her mother and grandmother.
He doesn't go into describing the acts of making love, which apaprently is quite unusual for de Sade, but what makes this story really interesting is the psychology behind it and how much impact a certain upbringing can have to an infant.
I highly recommend this book.
He doesn't go into describing the acts of making love, which apaprently is quite unusual for de Sade, but what makes this story really interesting is the psychology behind it and how much impact a certain upbringing can have to an infant.
I highly recommend this book.
August 5, 2023
Considering the theme (the English title kind of gives it away comparing with the more subtle French original one) and the author himself (we all know what de Sade was famous and judged for) I thought this book would shock me much more than it did ( I bought it to challenge myself). But then if we remind ourselves how the late XVIII century (early XIX century) literature is, it's not with surprise that even the most outrageous acts are told with such lightness and elegance. I enjoyed this book, specially its pace, and ended up reading it in a couple of hours because of all the tragic innuendo towards the middle.
April 2, 2021
A surprisingly clean and accessible Sade work. Apart from the Incest relationship which isn't put to any great detail nothing too shocking happens. Makes you wonder what Sade would of been like as a writer if he wasn't so crazy and pushed things to the extreme.
November 11, 2018
Well, I haven't read much of European Literature. And it’s a glaring gap in my reading that I want to address. ‘Incest’ by Sade is one of the seminal classics - a book that was banned, and would probably continue to be banned in many parts of the world.
Comparisons would be drawn to ‘Lolita’ but I think ‘Incest’ is probably even more shocking. While Nabokov was rather more gentle in his treatment, Sade never fails to tell us just how much of a tyrant Franval is. You are spared no mercy in the description of the depravity of Franval. Sade himself, of course, led a troubled life. Sadism is derived from his name and remnants of that life seep in through the book.
I struggled a bit with the long-drawn out prose, and failed to connect with any of the characters. But you can’t really make a foray into European Literature without adding a Sade to your repertoire. Would I read another of his works? Ah, that...
Comparisons would be drawn to ‘Lolita’ but I think ‘Incest’ is probably even more shocking. While Nabokov was rather more gentle in his treatment, Sade never fails to tell us just how much of a tyrant Franval is. You are spared no mercy in the description of the depravity of Franval. Sade himself, of course, led a troubled life. Sadism is derived from his name and remnants of that life seep in through the book.
I struggled a bit with the long-drawn out prose, and failed to connect with any of the characters. But you can’t really make a foray into European Literature without adding a Sade to your repertoire. Would I read another of his works? Ah, that...
April 27, 2007
Literature par excellence that must be devoured at one go - incredibly fascinating piece of semi-autobiographical fiction that was not the least bit scandalising or revolting (as it is reputed to be) but definitely complex considering the relationship it's exploring...definitely worth reading and owning! Waiting to read "Justine" now...
August 26, 2014
A long meditation of sorts (if you wish to see it like that)on Nature and Culture. Of course, at this point in time, it'd seem rather outdated a debate but the text is rather engaging and indeed, a must-read.
September 9, 2009
very surprised that it was so moralizing, whether or not it was supposed to be ironically so. this was not the juicy shit i was looking for!
![Profile Image for Keith [on semi hiatus].](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/users/1541020315i/84884940._UX200_CR0,0,200,200_.jpg)
January 5, 2021
An excellent novella by 'a moral threat to prostitutes' about sophistry, love, lust and death.
November 8, 2022
“Surely, but I do not want to be your tyrant, and even less your seducer. The services I am soliciting, nay the rewards I request, I wish to be won through love, and through love alone. You are familiar with the world and with its ways; I have never concealed any of its lures from you. My habit of keeping other men from your eyes, so that I alone will be the constant object of your vision, has become a hoax, a piece of trickery unworthy of me. If in the world there exists a being whom you prefer to me, name him without delay, I shall go to the ends of the earth to find him and straightway lead him back here into your arms. In a word, it is your happiness I seek, my angel, yours much more than mine. These gentle pleasures you can give me will be nothing to me, if they are not the concrete proof of your love. Therefore, Eugénie, make up your mind. The time has come for you to be immolated, and immolated you must be. But you yourself must name the priest who shall perform the sacrifice; I renounce the pleasures which this title assures me if it is not your heart and soul which offer them to me. And, still worthy of your heart, if ’tis not I whom you most prefer, still I shall, by bringing you him whom you can love and cherish, at least have merited your tender affection though I may not have won the citadel of your heart. And, failing to become Eugénie’s lover, I shall still be her friend.”
“It is only most reluctantly, and with the greatest fear of disturbing you, Monsieur,” Clervil began, “that I dare to present myself before you. Persons of our calling are commonly so much a burden to those who, like yourself, spend their lives tasting the pleasures of this world, that I reproach myself for having consented to Madame de Farneille’s desires and having requested to converse with you for a moment or two.”
“Please sit down, Monsieur, and so long as reason and justice hold sway in your conversation, you need never fear of boring me.”
“Sir, you are beloved of a young wife full of charm and virtue and whom, it is alleged, you make most miserable. Having as arms naught but her innocence and her candor, and with only a mother’s ear to hear her complaints, still idolizing you despite your wrongs, you can easily imagine the frightful position in which she finds herself!”
“If you please, Monsieur, I should like us to get down to the facts. I have the feeling you are skirting the issue; pray tell me, what is the purpose of your mission?”
“To bring you back to happiness, if that is possible.”
“Therefore, if I find myself happy in my present situation, may I assume that you should have nothing further to say to me?”
“It is impossible, Monsieur, to find happiness in the exercise of crime.”
“I agree. But the man who, through profound study and mature reflection, has been able to bring his mind to the point where he does not see evil in anything, where he contemplates the whole of human endeavor with the most supreme indifference and considers every action of which man is capable as the necessary result of a power, whatever its nature, which is at times good and at times bad, but always imperious, inspires us alternately with what men approve and what they condemn, but never anything that disturbs or troubles it—that man, I say, and I’m sure you will agree, can be just as happy living the way I do as you are in your chosen calling. Happiness is ideal, it is the work of the imagination. It is a manner of being moved which relies solely upon the way we see and feel. Except for the satisfaction of needs, there is nothing which makes all men equally happy. Not a day goes by but that we see one person made happy by something that supremely displeases another. Therefore, there is no certain or fixed happiness, and the only happiness possible for us is the one we form with the help of our organs and our principles.”
“I know that, Monsieur, but though our mind may deceive us, our conscience never leads us astray, and here is the book wherein Nature has inscribed all our duties.”
“And do we not manipulate this factitious conscience at will? Habit bends it, it is for us like soft wax which our fingers shape as they choose. If this book were as certain as you pretend, would man not be endowed with an invariable conscience? From one end of the earth to the other, would not all of man’s actions be the same for him? And yet is such truly the case? Does the Hottentot tremble at what terrifies the Frenchman? And does the Frenchman not do daily what would be punishable in Japan? No, Monsieur, no, there is nothing real in the world, nothing deserving of praise or approbation, nothing worthy of being rewarded or punished, nothing which, unjust here, is not quite lawful five hundred leagues away. In a word, no wrong is real, no good is constant.”
“Do not believe it, Sir. Virtue is not an illusion. It is not a matter of ascertaining whether something is good here, or bad a few degrees farther away, in order to assign it a precise determination of crime or virtue, and to make certain of finding happiness therein by reason of the choice one has made of it. Man’s only happiness resides in his complete submission to the laws of his land. He has either to respect them or to be miserable, there is no middle ground between their infraction and misfortune. ’Tis not, if you prefer to state it in these terms, these things in themselves which give rise to the evils which overwhelm us whenever we allow ourselves free reign to indulge in these forbidden practices, ’tis rather the conflict between these things—which may be intrinsically either good or bad—and the social conventions of the society in which we live. One can surely do no harm by preferring to stroll along the boulevards than along the Champs Élysées. And yet if a law were passed forbidding our citizens from frequenting the boulevards, whosoever should break this law might be setting in motion an eternal chain of misfortunes for himself, although in breaking it he had done something quite simple. Moreover, the habit of breaking ordinary restrictions soon leads to the violation of more serious ones, and from error to error one soon arrives at crimes of a nature to be punished in any country under the sun and to inspire fear in any reasonable creature on earth, no matter in what clime he may dwell. If man does not have a universal conscience, he at least has a national conscience, relative to the existence that we have received from Nature, and in which her hand inscribes our duties in letters which we cannot efface without danger. For example, Monsieur, your family accuses you of incest. It makes no difference what sophistries you employ to justify this crime or lessen the horror, or what specious arguments you apply to it or what authorities you call upon by buttressing these arguments with examples drawn from neighboring countries, the fact remains that this crime, which is only a crime in certain countries, is most assuredly dangerous wherever the law forbids it. It is no less certain that it can give rise to the most frightful consequences, as well as other crimes necessitated by this first one . . . crimes, I might add, of a sort to be deemed abominable by all men. Had you married your daughter on the banks of the Ganges, where such marriages are permitted, perhaps you might have committed only a minor wrong. But in a country where these unions are forbidden, by offering this revolting spectacle to the public . . . and to the eyes of a woman who adores you and who, by this treacherous act, is being pushed to the edge of the grave, you are no doubt committing a frightful act, a crime which tends to break the holiest bonds of Nature: those which, attaching your daughter to her who gave her life, ought to make this person the most respected, the most sacred of all objects to her. You oblige this girl to despise her most precious duties, you cause her to hate the very person who bore her in her womb; without realizing it, you are preparing weapons that she may one day direct against you. In every doctrine you offer her, in every principle you inculcate in her, your condemnation is inscribed. And if one day her arm is raised against you in an attempt against your life, ’tis you who will have sharpened the dagger.”
“Your way of reasoning, so different from that of most men of the cloth,” Franval replied, “compels me to trust in you, Monsieur. I could deny your accusations. I hope that the frankness with which I reveal myself to you will also oblige you to believe the wrongs I impute to my wife when, to expose them, I employ the same truthfulness with which I intend to characterize my own confessions. Yes, Monsieur, I love my daughter, I love her passionately, she is my mistress, my wife, my daughter, my confidante, my friend, my only God on earth; in fine, she possesses all the homage that any heart can ever hope to obtain, and all homage of which my heart is capable is due her. These sentiments will endure as long as I live. Being unable to give them up, I doubtless must therefore justify them.
“A father’s first duty toward his daughter is undeniably—I’m sure you will agree, Monsieur—to procure for her the greatest happiness possible. If he does not succeed in this task, then he has failed in his obligations toward her; if he does succeed, then he is blameless. I have neither seduced nor constrained Eugénie—this is a noteworthy consideration, which I trust you will not forget. I did not conceal the world from her. I expounded for her the good and bad sides of marriage, the roses and the thorns it contains. It was then I offered myself, and left her free to choose. She had adequate time to reflect on the matter. She did not hesitate: she claimed that she could find happiness only with me. Was I wrong to give her, in order to make her happy, what she appeared in full knowledge to desire above all else?”
“These sophistries justify nothing, Monsieur. You were wrong to give your daughter the slightest inclination that the person she could not prefer without crime might become the object of her happiness. No matter how lovely a fruit might appear, would you not regret having offered it to someone if you knew that lurking within its flesh was death? No, Monsieur, no: in this whole wretched affair you have had only one object in mind, and that object was you, and you have made your daughter both an accomplice and a victim. These methods are inexcusable. . . . And what wrongs, in your eyes, do you ascribe to that virtuous and sensitive wife whose heart you twist and break at will? What wrongs, unjust man, except the wrong of loving you?”
“This is the point I wish to discuss with you, Sir, and ’tis here I expect and hope for your confidence. After the full candor to which I have treated you, in making a full confession of all that is ascribed to me, I trust I have some right to expect such confidence.”
And then Franval, showing Clervil the forged letters and notes he had attributed to his wife, swore to him that nothing was more authentic than these documents, and than the affair between Madame de Franval and the person who was the subject of the papers.
Clervil was familiar with the entire matter.
“Well, Monsieur,” he said firmly to Franval, “was I not right to tell you that an error viewed at first as being without consequence in itself can, by accustoming us to exceed limits, lead us to the most extravagant excesses of crime and wickedness? You have begun with an act which, in your eyes, you deemed totally inoffensive, and you see to what infamous lengths you are obliged to go in order to justify or conceal it? Follow my advice, Monsieur, throw these unpardonable atrocities into the fire and, I beg of you, let us forget them, let us forget they ever existed.”
“These documents are authentic, Monsieur.”
“They are false.”
“You can only be in doubt about them. Is that sufficient reason for you to contradict me?”
“Pardon me, Monsieur, but the only reason I have to suppose they are authentic is your word on the matter, and you have good reason indeed for buttressing your accusation. As for believing them false, I have your wife’s word for it, and she too would have good reason to tell me if they were authentic, if they actually were. This, Sir, is how I judge. Self-interest is the vehicle for all man’s actions, the wellspring of everything he does. Wherever I can discover it, the torch of truth immediately lights up. This rule has never once failed me, and I have been applying it for forty years. And furthermore, will your wife’s virtue not annihilate this loathsome calumny in everyone’s eyes? And is it possible that your wife, with her frankness and her candor, with indeed the love for you which still burns within her, could ever have committed such abominable acts as those you charge her with? No, Monsieur, this is not how crime begins. Since you are so familiar with its effects, you should maneuver more cleverly.”
“That, Sir, is abusive language.”
“You’ll forgive me, Monsieur, but injustice, calumny, libertinage revolt my soul so completely that I sometimes find it hard to control the agitation which these horrors incite in me. Let us burn these papers, Monsieur, I most urgently beseech you . . . burn them for your honor and your peace of mind.”
“I never suspected, Monsieur,” said Franval, getting to his feet, “that in the exercise of your ministry one could so easily become an apologist . . . the protector of misconduct and of adultery. My wife is dishonoring me, she is ruining me. I have proved it to you. Your blindness concerning her makes you prefer to accuse me and rather suppose that ’tis I who am the slanderer than she the treacherous and debauched woman. All right, Monsieur, the law shall decide. Every court in France shall resound with my accusations, I shall come bearing proof, I shall publish my dishonor, and then we shall see whether you will still be guileless enough, or rather foolish enough, to protect so shameless a creature against me.”
“I shall leave you now, Monsieur,” Clervil said, also getting to his feet. “I did not realize to what extent the faults of your mind had so altered the qualities of your heart and that, blinded by an unjust desire for revenge, you had become capable of coolly maintaining what could only derive from delirium. . . . Ah! Monsieur, how all this has persuaded me all the more that when man oversteps the bounds of his most sacred duties, he soon allows himself to annihilate all the others. . . . If further reflection should bring you back to your senses, I beg of you to send word to me, Monsieur, and you will always find, in your family as well as in myself, friends disposed to receive you. May I be allowed to see Mademoiselle your daughter for a moment?”
“You, Sir, may do as you like. I would only suggest, nay urge you that when talking with her you either employ more eloquent means or draw upon sounder resources in presenting these luminous truths to her, truths in which I was unfortunate enough to perceive naught but blindness and sophistries.”
“It is only most reluctantly, and with the greatest fear of disturbing you, Monsieur,” Clervil began, “that I dare to present myself before you. Persons of our calling are commonly so much a burden to those who, like yourself, spend their lives tasting the pleasures of this world, that I reproach myself for having consented to Madame de Farneille’s desires and having requested to converse with you for a moment or two.”
“Please sit down, Monsieur, and so long as reason and justice hold sway in your conversation, you need never fear of boring me.”
“Sir, you are beloved of a young wife full of charm and virtue and whom, it is alleged, you make most miserable. Having as arms naught but her innocence and her candor, and with only a mother’s ear to hear her complaints, still idolizing you despite your wrongs, you can easily imagine the frightful position in which she finds herself!”
“If you please, Monsieur, I should like us to get down to the facts. I have the feeling you are skirting the issue; pray tell me, what is the purpose of your mission?”
“To bring you back to happiness, if that is possible.”
“Therefore, if I find myself happy in my present situation, may I assume that you should have nothing further to say to me?”
“It is impossible, Monsieur, to find happiness in the exercise of crime.”
“I agree. But the man who, through profound study and mature reflection, has been able to bring his mind to the point where he does not see evil in anything, where he contemplates the whole of human endeavor with the most supreme indifference and considers every action of which man is capable as the necessary result of a power, whatever its nature, which is at times good and at times bad, but always imperious, inspires us alternately with what men approve and what they condemn, but never anything that disturbs or troubles it—that man, I say, and I’m sure you will agree, can be just as happy living the way I do as you are in your chosen calling. Happiness is ideal, it is the work of the imagination. It is a manner of being moved which relies solely upon the way we see and feel. Except for the satisfaction of needs, there is nothing which makes all men equally happy. Not a day goes by but that we see one person made happy by something that supremely displeases another. Therefore, there is no certain or fixed happiness, and the only happiness possible for us is the one we form with the help of our organs and our principles.”
“I know that, Monsieur, but though our mind may deceive us, our conscience never leads us astray, and here is the book wherein Nature has inscribed all our duties.”
“And do we not manipulate this factitious conscience at will? Habit bends it, it is for us like soft wax which our fingers shape as they choose. If this book were as certain as you pretend, would man not be endowed with an invariable conscience? From one end of the earth to the other, would not all of man’s actions be the same for him? And yet is such truly the case? Does the Hottentot tremble at what terrifies the Frenchman? And does the Frenchman not do daily what would be punishable in Japan? No, Monsieur, no, there is nothing real in the world, nothing deserving of praise or approbation, nothing worthy of being rewarded or punished, nothing which, unjust here, is not quite lawful five hundred leagues away. In a word, no wrong is real, no good is constant.”
“Do not believe it, Sir. Virtue is not an illusion. It is not a matter of ascertaining whether something is good here, or bad a few degrees farther away, in order to assign it a precise determination of crime or virtue, and to make certain of finding happiness therein by reason of the choice one has made of it. Man’s only happiness resides in his complete submission to the laws of his land. He has either to respect them or to be miserable, there is no middle ground between their infraction and misfortune. ’Tis not, if you prefer to state it in these terms, these things in themselves which give rise to the evils which overwhelm us whenever we allow ourselves free reign to indulge in these forbidden practices, ’tis rather the conflict between these things—which may be intrinsically either good or bad—and the social conventions of the society in which we live. One can surely do no harm by preferring to stroll along the boulevards than along the Champs Élysées. And yet if a law were passed forbidding our citizens from frequenting the boulevards, whosoever should break this law might be setting in motion an eternal chain of misfortunes for himself, although in breaking it he had done something quite simple. Moreover, the habit of breaking ordinary restrictions soon leads to the violation of more serious ones, and from error to error one soon arrives at crimes of a nature to be punished in any country under the sun and to inspire fear in any reasonable creature on earth, no matter in what clime he may dwell. If man does not have a universal conscience, he at least has a national conscience, relative to the existence that we have received from Nature, and in which her hand inscribes our duties in letters which we cannot efface without danger. For example, Monsieur, your family accuses you of incest. It makes no difference what sophistries you employ to justify this crime or lessen the horror, or what specious arguments you apply to it or what authorities you call upon by buttressing these arguments with examples drawn from neighboring countries, the fact remains that this crime, which is only a crime in certain countries, is most assuredly dangerous wherever the law forbids it. It is no less certain that it can give rise to the most frightful consequences, as well as other crimes necessitated by this first one . . . crimes, I might add, of a sort to be deemed abominable by all men. Had you married your daughter on the banks of the Ganges, where such marriages are permitted, perhaps you might have committed only a minor wrong. But in a country where these unions are forbidden, by offering this revolting spectacle to the public . . . and to the eyes of a woman who adores you and who, by this treacherous act, is being pushed to the edge of the grave, you are no doubt committing a frightful act, a crime which tends to break the holiest bonds of Nature: those which, attaching your daughter to her who gave her life, ought to make this person the most respected, the most sacred of all objects to her. You oblige this girl to despise her most precious duties, you cause her to hate the very person who bore her in her womb; without realizing it, you are preparing weapons that she may one day direct against you. In every doctrine you offer her, in every principle you inculcate in her, your condemnation is inscribed. And if one day her arm is raised against you in an attempt against your life, ’tis you who will have sharpened the dagger.”
“Your way of reasoning, so different from that of most men of the cloth,” Franval replied, “compels me to trust in you, Monsieur. I could deny your accusations. I hope that the frankness with which I reveal myself to you will also oblige you to believe the wrongs I impute to my wife when, to expose them, I employ the same truthfulness with which I intend to characterize my own confessions. Yes, Monsieur, I love my daughter, I love her passionately, she is my mistress, my wife, my daughter, my confidante, my friend, my only God on earth; in fine, she possesses all the homage that any heart can ever hope to obtain, and all homage of which my heart is capable is due her. These sentiments will endure as long as I live. Being unable to give them up, I doubtless must therefore justify them.
“A father’s first duty toward his daughter is undeniably—I’m sure you will agree, Monsieur—to procure for her the greatest happiness possible. If he does not succeed in this task, then he has failed in his obligations toward her; if he does succeed, then he is blameless. I have neither seduced nor constrained Eugénie—this is a noteworthy consideration, which I trust you will not forget. I did not conceal the world from her. I expounded for her the good and bad sides of marriage, the roses and the thorns it contains. It was then I offered myself, and left her free to choose. She had adequate time to reflect on the matter. She did not hesitate: she claimed that she could find happiness only with me. Was I wrong to give her, in order to make her happy, what she appeared in full knowledge to desire above all else?”
“These sophistries justify nothing, Monsieur. You were wrong to give your daughter the slightest inclination that the person she could not prefer without crime might become the object of her happiness. No matter how lovely a fruit might appear, would you not regret having offered it to someone if you knew that lurking within its flesh was death? No, Monsieur, no: in this whole wretched affair you have had only one object in mind, and that object was you, and you have made your daughter both an accomplice and a victim. These methods are inexcusable. . . . And what wrongs, in your eyes, do you ascribe to that virtuous and sensitive wife whose heart you twist and break at will? What wrongs, unjust man, except the wrong of loving you?”
“This is the point I wish to discuss with you, Sir, and ’tis here I expect and hope for your confidence. After the full candor to which I have treated you, in making a full confession of all that is ascribed to me, I trust I have some right to expect such confidence.”
And then Franval, showing Clervil the forged letters and notes he had attributed to his wife, swore to him that nothing was more authentic than these documents, and than the affair between Madame de Franval and the person who was the subject of the papers.
Clervil was familiar with the entire matter.
“Well, Monsieur,” he said firmly to Franval, “was I not right to tell you that an error viewed at first as being without consequence in itself can, by accustoming us to exceed limits, lead us to the most extravagant excesses of crime and wickedness? You have begun with an act which, in your eyes, you deemed totally inoffensive, and you see to what infamous lengths you are obliged to go in order to justify or conceal it? Follow my advice, Monsieur, throw these unpardonable atrocities into the fire and, I beg of you, let us forget them, let us forget they ever existed.”
“These documents are authentic, Monsieur.”
“They are false.”
“You can only be in doubt about them. Is that sufficient reason for you to contradict me?”
“Pardon me, Monsieur, but the only reason I have to suppose they are authentic is your word on the matter, and you have good reason indeed for buttressing your accusation. As for believing them false, I have your wife’s word for it, and she too would have good reason to tell me if they were authentic, if they actually were. This, Sir, is how I judge. Self-interest is the vehicle for all man’s actions, the wellspring of everything he does. Wherever I can discover it, the torch of truth immediately lights up. This rule has never once failed me, and I have been applying it for forty years. And furthermore, will your wife’s virtue not annihilate this loathsome calumny in everyone’s eyes? And is it possible that your wife, with her frankness and her candor, with indeed the love for you which still burns within her, could ever have committed such abominable acts as those you charge her with? No, Monsieur, this is not how crime begins. Since you are so familiar with its effects, you should maneuver more cleverly.”
“That, Sir, is abusive language.”
“You’ll forgive me, Monsieur, but injustice, calumny, libertinage revolt my soul so completely that I sometimes find it hard to control the agitation which these horrors incite in me. Let us burn these papers, Monsieur, I most urgently beseech you . . . burn them for your honor and your peace of mind.”
“I never suspected, Monsieur,” said Franval, getting to his feet, “that in the exercise of your ministry one could so easily become an apologist . . . the protector of misconduct and of adultery. My wife is dishonoring me, she is ruining me. I have proved it to you. Your blindness concerning her makes you prefer to accuse me and rather suppose that ’tis I who am the slanderer than she the treacherous and debauched woman. All right, Monsieur, the law shall decide. Every court in France shall resound with my accusations, I shall come bearing proof, I shall publish my dishonor, and then we shall see whether you will still be guileless enough, or rather foolish enough, to protect so shameless a creature against me.”
“I shall leave you now, Monsieur,” Clervil said, also getting to his feet. “I did not realize to what extent the faults of your mind had so altered the qualities of your heart and that, blinded by an unjust desire for revenge, you had become capable of coolly maintaining what could only derive from delirium. . . . Ah! Monsieur, how all this has persuaded me all the more that when man oversteps the bounds of his most sacred duties, he soon allows himself to annihilate all the others. . . . If further reflection should bring you back to your senses, I beg of you to send word to me, Monsieur, and you will always find, in your family as well as in myself, friends disposed to receive you. May I be allowed to see Mademoiselle your daughter for a moment?”
“You, Sir, may do as you like. I would only suggest, nay urge you that when talking with her you either employ more eloquent means or draw upon sounder resources in presenting these luminous truths to her, truths in which I was unfortunate enough to perceive naught but blindness and sophistries.”
February 22, 2021
I am disgusted and enchanted at the same moment. A grotesque story told with a horrific and somehow gentle way. It's standing of the edge of two sides and showing us the human nature in its most disgusting and raw form.
February 4, 2024
Çevirisi baya kötüydü. Sade aşığı birisi olarak baya üzülerek okudum...
Re-read
Kitabın bir başka çevirisini yıllar sonra okudum. Sade üzerine çok şey okuduktan hatta yazdıktan sonra okumak, değerlendirme yapmayı daha mümkün kılıyor.
Kitap bence Sade’ın başyapıtlarından daha farklı bir tona sahip. Tabii ki libertenlik bulunuyor ancak hikayenin gidişatı ve sonu hiç de Sadien değil aslında. Kendi görüşlerine de nispeten daha az yer vermiş. Okuması yine de keyifliydi. Ama bu çeviri de çok iyi değildi.
Re-read
Kitabın bir başka çevirisini yıllar sonra okudum. Sade üzerine çok şey okuduktan hatta yazdıktan sonra okumak, değerlendirme yapmayı daha mümkün kılıyor.
Kitap bence Sade’ın başyapıtlarından daha farklı bir tona sahip. Tabii ki libertenlik bulunuyor ancak hikayenin gidişatı ve sonu hiç de Sadien değil aslında. Kendi görüşlerine de nispeten daha az yer vermiş. Okuması yine de keyifliydi. Ama bu çeviri de çok iyi değildi.
July 28, 2011
A novel based on the De Sade ethic--sexual violence, charming men, and a (poorly) reasoned rejection of traditional Judeo-Christian values. Honestly, for me De Sade's ideas are so formulaic as to be boring. Taken at face value the story is somewhat disturbing, but I found it really difficult to identify with any of the characters, so I wasn't really invested in anything that happened. Maybe extreme sexual violence just doesn't shock me, but I found this book quite forgetable.
September 8, 2014
I usually post a pic of each book I read to Instagram, but thanks to the title and the cover pic I was too chicken to post this one!
This book was written over 200 years ago in French. I'm not sure if it's been edited out in the translation, but this wasn't at all graphic. Despite the author's reputation and the subject matter this novel is very tame. I found the more formal writing style a bit difficult to read, but I really enjoyed the plot and of course the story is only short.
This book was written over 200 years ago in French. I'm not sure if it's been edited out in the translation, but this wasn't at all graphic. Despite the author's reputation and the subject matter this novel is very tame. I found the more formal writing style a bit difficult to read, but I really enjoyed the plot and of course the story is only short.
July 13, 2007
I have just been reading a couple of cases of incest, and I came across a review from this book, so I really want to check it out. Please tell me if this come as Sade's general form of writting, or maybe you could describe it as a sideway text into the manifest in Father - daughter "love" relationship.
July 2, 2008
This gothic soap opera is pretty tame for De Sade, but the strength of his writing shines, as always. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the faux-modesty and faux-morality in passages such as, "But Eugenie was coming up to the age of fourteen: this was the age when Franval planned to consummate his crime. Let us shudder!... The crime was consummated."
August 10, 2011
More of a morality tale than anything else. Mostly devoid of sex, and any scenes of sex are devoid of description of said acts. However, works for what it is, a tale of a morally bankrupt man who has to ultimately pay for his deeds.
September 27, 2012
Street-Porter's intro who bring the up to a 5* rating but not all editions have it. In this we see another Sade; his creative sensitive is beautifully exposed. His life and mind can not be understood without reading this.
January 21, 2018
short story by de sade, deals with a man who grooms his daughter (Eugenie de Franval) to fall in love with him. very disturbing, but intense read. well-plotted, relatively simple yet elegant prose. this seems like a good introduction to de sade's fiction.
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