I felt like I was engaged in a long, drawn-out battle of fisticuffs with this novel; with my opponent being an otherwise placid Englishman lecturing me properly on the sporting necessity of the Marquess of Queensberry rules as he jabbed me almost apologetically with knuckles pointed upward and outward and cloaked in dainty boxing gloves; his endurance greater than mine as he slowly but surely battered my face to a pulp in patient, cumulative, and ultimately devastating fashion.The novel is populated by boringly correct English types who seem almost parodically perfect, civil and discreet. Their world is slowly and quietly devastated by the entrance into it of an almost blameless femme fatale, a damaged girl harboring a terrible secret so corrosive that it seems to destroy all she touches, though the recipients of her attentions fail to see -- or do see and ignore -- the inevitably painful consequences. The story is told from the perspective of a genteel middle-aged Englishman, Dr. Stephen Fleming, a physician and member of Parliament, who willingly constructs an alternate reality to justify his obsessive affair with her. As she happens to be the fiancee of his own son, the deception takes on particularly disturbing aspects.The first chapter of this novel is one of the most perfect in English literature. It's really quite amazing, and there are passages throughout that are nearly as good. The novel is perhaps not perfect as a whole, and one sometimes becomes irritated at the "oh aren't we so frightfully correct and conventional" self observational conversations spouted by the characters as a sort of authorial shorthand. On the other hand, the way the novel simmers under its lid and slowly uncoils itself to render its death bite is quite masterly. And there is much sigh-inducing gorgeousness in Hart's prose. It's a sad tale, part Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier, part Nabokov's Lolita in its forbidden (age-gap, but not pedophilic) love, deception and existence of a peripheral character with a mysterious pull, and probably several other novels I'm missing. The most tragic figure in the story is probably Fleming's wife, Ingrid, decent and guileless, and thus eminently destroyable.The book is about the reality of what people think and how they feel while they wear their false public masks, as well as the profound concern of never really living until death takes them. There's nothing particularly new in this or in the novel's framework of deceptive relationships, but Hart brings her own expressive ingenuity to the material. It's a spare work; thoughtful and haunting. Because the story is told entirely from Fleming's POV, we see what is most important to him, so the surface of his everyday life -- his career and other aspects -- are glossed over in only a few sentences. This is authorial prerogative, and oftentimes this lack of ancillary detail can make a novel seem frivolous, but here the issues are explored with such brooding intensity and insight that such details would merely impede the flow and dilute the novel's imperatives.As I say, I fought with this book. At times I found myself bored and frustrated by the characters and their impossible stiff-upper-lipped orderliness; sometimes put off by the occasional cliche or passage of melodramatic dialogue. But the book over its course continually brought me back into the fold, and by the end it persuaded me; reminding us that no amount of social structure can ever truly contain the lizard brain.This book was made into a good film in 1992, starring Jeremy Irons, and it's probably his presence in that which reminded me of Lolita, as he appeared in the excellent remake of that film as well.I might be overrating this by at least a star, but I thought the book was ultimately powerful, rewarding and recommendable. It is a book for lovers of literature.
A married, middle-aged MP becomes obsessed with his son’s girlfriend – a fixation that turns his life and that of his family upside down.I’ve been meaning to read this novel for a long time, probably since I saw the film version in the mid-1990s, but had somehow never got round to it. Having read it, I’m sorry I waited so long for such an intense and physical experience. I don’t now remember much about the film which is a blessing as I wouldn’t have wanted it to interfere with the experience of reading the book.The opening chapter is just overwhelmingly wonderful – it includes some enormously complex ideas, but is terse and compact. The narrator collars us like a modern-day Ancient Mariner and doesn’t loosen his grip until we have heard his whole shocking story.We never learn the narrator’s name and it also strikes me that we don’t know how reliable a narrator he is. After all, he can tell us his own version of the truth and we have to believe him. His story is “a confession without the desire for repentance”, so he has to represent his erotic obsession with Anna as unavoidable, otherwise how could he continue to live at the end of the book? He reports Anna’s sentiment that “damaged people are dangerous” – this too could be his way of avoiding blame.The prose is stark and stripped down, it does away with all but the barest of descriptions. In the same way, the narrator casts aside social convention and what is generally seen to be acceptable to expose the animal beneath. There is no love in the affair between the narrator and Anna, it is pure erotic obsession that will never turn into anything else. It’s a very dark novel, with the feel of a horror story about it. The monster (the erotic obsession) approaches, lays waste to the characters in different ways and retreats, leaving only a few survivors. You feel you want to warn the characters that it’s sneaking up on them, but of course you can’t make yourself heard.The reader of Damage has their own obsession which gathers pace during the book. We have to know what happens, to try to make sense of it, though we know it’s not going to be pleasant. It’s quite a cold book – there’s lots of obsession, but little love. This means that there can be no forgiveness and everyone is doomed in their own way.I found reading the book quite a physical experience – I could feel my heart beating too fast and my breathing get faster at various points in the book. And when a tragic and shocking scene was described it took me completely by surprise and I made an involuntary noise while reading it. If only we could learn more about Anna – a Rashomon-like re-run of events from her point of view would answer a lot of questions. Enjoyed isn’t the right word for how I feel about this book, but reading it was a powerful experience which has stayed with me since I closed the cover.
What do You think about Damage (2010)?
I found this book when I was still in high school. It was a bad time for me. At the time I was upset and confused. Mostly, I was angry at males and the patriarchal society. I didn't know how to relate as a trained under duress strong female who had suppressed submissive tendencies.I also thought there was something wrong with me. The title of this book caught my attention. Damage. How true. I read this book and I was horrified at how a seemingly perfect life could go terribly wrong. I could understand the desires and wants of the father. Yet I couldn't understand how he could do this to his family. His perfect family with the perfect son and daughter. Then the wife, what was wrong with her that she couldn't supply what her husband wanted? It was so baffling for me and once again validated to my young self that relationships and specifically marriage was a bad bad thing. There was a line in the book which meant a lot to me. "Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." I felt that to my soul. I guess I've always felt I was damaged some how due to my perversions. When a movie based on this story came out, I saw it. It was just as devastating for me as the book. Then again, I'm a fan of Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche. This is a book with no happily ever afters or happily for now. Even 20 years later, I still remember this book vividly.
—♆ BookAddict ✒ La Crimson Femme
"C'è un paesaggio interiore, una geografia dell'anima; ne cerchiamo gli elementi per tutta la vita"Bello nonostante la vaga sensazione di incompiutezza che lascia – e ben più complesso e coinvolgente della sua riduttiva e un po’ banale trasposizione cinematografica – il romanzo è pervaso in ogni pagina da un senso di angosciosa ineluttabilità, in un climax di tensione ed emozioni, che prepara e prelude alla tragedia finale. La passione divorante che irrompe - non cercata, eppure inconsciamente attesa da sempre - nell’esistenza impeccabile e banalmente perfetta del protagonista, ne sconvolge dalle fondamenta l'edificio costruito sul terreno friabile di un'abile dissimulazione. Perché non si tratta soltanto dell’attrazione, sia pure ossessiva e irrefrenabile, nei confronti di una persona “proibita” e avvolta nel mistero, ma di un "ritorno a casa", del riconoscimento di un essere simile a sé con cui liberare, finalmente, pulsioni e desideri mai confessati e sempre ingabbiati nel carcere della mistificazione. "Dominatore senza potere" dominato dalla sua schiava onnipotente, fin dall'inizio della relazione questo uomo non si fa illusioni: è lucido, razionale e perfettamente consapevole di stare precipitando in un abisso senza ritorno; tuttavia non esita a mettere in gioco tutto quanto ha di più caro, anche con la menzogna e l’inganno, anche con il rifiuto e l'abbandono, pur di seguire la sua natura segreta e il suo destino. Perché soltanto adesso si sente finalmente vivo.Chi si aspettasse contenuti ad alto tasso erotico resterebbe però deluso, in quanto il tema predominante del racconto – contrariamente a quanto si potrebbe pensare – non è la storia di sesso, morte e disperazione vissuta dai due protagonisti, bensì quel “danno” che dà il titolo al romanzo. La prosa lapidaria, essenziale e tagliente, adottata dalla scrittrice, se da un lato risulta intensamente evocativa ed efficace a scongiurare il rischio di ovvietà o cadute di buongusto, dall’altro lato sintetizza all’eccesso le parentesi descrittive, i resoconti degli eventi e la stessa caratterizzazione dei personaggi. In tal modo, l’impressione generale che si ricava è di insoddisfazione per il non detto, che non è neppure tratteggiato in sintesi, ma solo cripticamente suggerito per allusioni. In particolare è la figura di Anna che, a mio avviso, avrebbe richiesto un rilievo più marcato e incisivo. È lei la chiave di volta dell'intera vicenda, il perno intorno al quale ruota la sorte dei vari personaggi. Ci sono persone che, pur non intenzionalmente, causano distruzione intorno a sé, annientando soprattutto chi le ama. Sono persone enigmatiche, affascinanti e pericolose, perché avanzano nel mondo illese, incuranti delle rovine che si lasciano alle spalle. Segnate da un passato doloroso, hanno già subito un "danno" e sanno che si può sopravvivere a qualunque sciagura ibernando il cuore come scudo alla sofferenza, perché loro lo hanno già fatto. E il vuoto che lasciano è solo disperata infinita solitudine. "Le storie di estasi sono storie infinite d’insuccessi. Perché arriva sempre la separazione. E ricomincia il viaggio verso l’essenziale, fuggevole unità."
—Ginny_1807
DAMAGE, a novella by Josephine Hart is a chilling tale of obsession and of the unintended consequences of ungovernable love. Now made into a movie starring Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche, and directed by the late Louis Malle, I have to say that reading the novella didn’t add anything to the experience of seeing the movie. Which is unusual.Perhaps it is because Louis Malle was such a great director. Or maybe it is because this tale is so chilling that it needed little enhancement. What is interesting about this story is the way it is told. Using mostly narrative summary, Ms. Hart clinically delineates the disaster that befell the Fleming family when the son became engaged to a mysterious stranger, whom the father rapidly became infatuated with. Unable to control his passion, he met his son’s fiance at every possible opportunity for violent and kinky sex. Soon the press was on the trail, and Fleming, a cabinet minister experienced his life crumbling away.I am not going to tell you what the ending is because I don’t want to destroy its power. Suffice it to say that I have rarely been so chilled. As for the way it was told, I myself am not a fan of narrative summary because it can easily weary the reader. But in this case, when we are talking about roiling emotions encased in an icy calm, it became a brilliant way of telling this story. The plot is so over-the-top that this clinical, detached, unemotional way of telling the story perfectly balanced it. Five stars.
—Cynthia Haggard
