Illusions! Lost ones! Where are they? Joking about it now, 'lost illusions' is a really sad thought, you can never get them back! The notion of illusion in fiction is something really interesting to me, and I think I dwell on it quite a bit in my reviews either consciously or unconsciously. I mean, is there anyone really without illusions? I hope not, it seems like an awfully sad life to live without illusions. Whenever I think of illusionment or disillusionment, my mind always floats away to Wallace Steven's poem "Disillusionment at Ten o'Clock." The poem mourns the loss of illusion, or imagination, of the modern world, as a result of the rise of routine and superficiality. He mourns: The houses are haunted By white night-gowns....People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles.The world, to Stevens, has become unimaginative, "haunted" by ghosts without imagination of creativity. People don't have imagination to dream of silly things, they are burdened by the dullness of reality, the focus on the real value of things, appearances. Childhood dreams of baboons and periwinkles, gaudy playfulness and uniqueness of dress are forgone for the seriousness of the world, a deliberate but deadening disillusionment. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches tigers In red weather.Catching tigers in red weather - what a dream, what an illusion and imagination, though the only one enjoying it is a drunk sailor.Lucien Chardon is the drunk sailor of Balzac's Lost Illusions and offers the counterargument to Steven's cry for the imagination. Like Macbeth, Lucien's imagination is proleptic, always anticipatory of his greatness and his fame, and so he does not see the precarious path he walks on in the pursuit of those dreams. Within the dream of his success, he mortgages reality, he mortgages all he has and all he imagines he will have in order to reach his goal: Not listening this time to the voice, he put his twelve hundred francs on the black and lost. He then felt within him that delicious sensation which succeeds the dreadful agitations of gamblers when, having nothing more to lose, they leave the flaming palace of their spasmodic dream.Lucien moves constantly from one oneiric palace-in-the-sky to the next, burning each to the ground, but shuffling quickly cloud-to-cloud to always keep himself afloat. But the real tragedy, and this book really approaches tragedy, is that Lucien's imagination sacrifices everyone whom he loves (David, his sister, his mother, Coralie), but never himself. Lucien seems impervious to his fall. And he does fall, and his name is the appropriate echo of the fallen angel Lucifer, for whom he is emblematic.Lucien is charismatic, he is naive, he knows himself to be a good poet but his illusions which shroud the reality of Paris life make his publishing success an impossibility. Throughout Balzac's Paris are heavy social commentaries on the print business for literature and poetry, a field with which he clearly had some familiarity. If Lucien is the fallen Lucifer, Literature and Art are God, but Journalists are the devils of Hell, which destroy art for sport. Lucien, more like Milton's Satan than the Bible's, is morally vague, he is a shadow of his Biblical predecessor, a parody of him even. In trying to good, Lucien invariable does bad. Like Macbeth, his crimes beget crimes, he makes matters worse, he is caught in the maelstrom of malefactions: "It is written," cried Madame Chardon, "that my poor son is fated to do evil, as he said he was, even in doing good."While it seems easy to say 'Lucien's heart is in the right place' it would be to over value his morality. Lucien is a misguided Machiavellian. He is a Machiavellian in spirit, but only in his imagination is he capable of doing the means which would justify his ends; for Lucian is really very timid, clever and maybe talented but too timid to stick to one dogma or path to success.Lucien's illusions are literally invested in an identity: Lucien de Rubempré, an illustrious name which he adopts without having truly the right to bear it (though is related to the Rubempré line through his mother). It is this identity, this illusion, which is bold, which is brilliant, which is famous and beloved, and like a caterpillar turning to a painted butterfly, he hopes to shed his Chardon skin and leave his mother and sister and David behind him in Angoulême ('It is better to serve in Paris than rule in Angoulême!' I can almost hear him say). But in his attempt to transform himself he loses himself, he tries to jump over the gestation-chrysalidic phase, and in doing so cuts himself from all supports, headed for a free-fall which financially destroys David Sechard and his wife, Lucien's sister.The first section of Lost Illusions is entitled "The Two Poets" - which are Lucien and David. While Lucien represents a "true" poet in the definitive sense, David is a poet of science, in that he labors in his art to discover the truth. While the story of Lucien's fall is morbidly fascinating, and evokes pity and condemnation, the tragedy of David is heartbreaking and sympathetic. Ruined by his friend and brother-in-law, David starves as he works to revolutionize the printing process, and create a new, cheap stock of paper. David is a good man, a truly good man and loving husband, a virtuous man and a generous man. Son to a penny-pinching mogul who stole his wife's inheritance from his own son, David's story is an tenuously uplifting story of the virtuous struggle, which parallels Lucien's struggle to fame and downward race to the ethical bottom.Lucien is never fully removed of his illusions, even in the end, despite his regret for the fate which befalls David, a new dream quickly replaces the one that has died and fallen away. What can can be said of Lucien's imagination is that it is phoenix-like in its endurance. So why is it called Lost Illusions? I think to Steven's poem again, disillusionment in routine, in the middling repetition of the bourgeois. Despite his success in invention, David never financially enjoys his success, but rather sells his enterprise to feed his family. His struggle has unchained him from the illusion. We feel his inventions are done, he is "happy" - his ending is a happy one, but a reservedly happy one. We want David to succeed, to achieve the greatness which he deserves and which Lucien seeks. But he doesn't get that, he gets a complaisance, he gets by, and he and Eve are OK with that. He doesn't foster the illusion of success or of fame, nor of wealth nor ambition of any kind. His house is haunted by white night-gowns, none of them are "strange with socks of lace and beaded scintures." He will live happily, we believe that, but he will live only a half-life, and that wounds us.
No man should marry until he has studied anatomy and dissected at least one woman. When I left the farm at the age of 18 and jerry rigged my battered Camaro into a sputtering, but functional machine that could, by the grace of all that is holy, get me to Phoenix. I might have bore resemblance to Lucien de Rubempre the hero of Lost Illusions. Well, okay, there were some differences. I did not look like a Greek God. I did not have David Sechard as a best friend who lent me his last 1,000 francs for my trip to Phoenix/Paris. I most importantly did not have an aristocratic companion in the form of Madame de Bargeton, the queen of society in Angouleme. (I definitely left the farm on the wrong footing.) As it turns out despite Lucien's advantages his spectacular rise and fall in Paris society far eclipsed my own bumpy yet steady meandering attempt to be successful in the "big city". Drawing from the Folio editionThe first hurdle to be cleared by both Lucien and Madame de Bargeton was entry into Parisian Aristocratic society. Madame may have had the proper name, but she had been in the sticks way too long and had fallen behind on the current fashions and the latest affectations. Lucien, though a beautiful manly specimen, wore the wrong clothes. Clothes that were very nice for the country, but were outdated and ragged when compared to the festive clothing worn by the Parisian dandies. In other words both found the other wanting and a detriment to their efforts to fit in to the society they wished to become accustomed too. Madame de Bargeton, in a fit of survival, jettisoned her Greek God. Lucien, even though he had been thinking similar thoughts, was upset over the betrayal(plotted revenge) and quickly found himself mired in poverty. He took up with a bunch of philosophical writers, who despite their superior intelligence or because of it refused to try and be successful. As taken as Lucien is by their high ideals and their comradeship he quickly moves away from their company once he meets the con man Etienne Lousteau. Drawing from the Folio editionLousteau calls himself a journalist, but really he is a blackmailer, glib tongue seducer, and thief. Lucien meets Lousteau at the moment that he is in a midst of a deal to become editor of a newspaper. Lousteau likes Lucien, more importantly he sees that he can be of use to him, and shows him how to use his pen to make money. He ensnares him in the fine art of reviewing books, taking the best qualities of a novel and negating those qualities by presenting them as weaknesses. He shows him how to receive "bribes" in theater seats in exchange for positive reviews. Lucien, who was a good writer, soon found himself in a position of writing positive and negative reviews of the same book or the same play and taking money from publishers not to eviscerate their latest offering. Etienne and Lucien both are living with beautiful actresses and making a very good living, but their lifestyle far outreaches their pocketbooks and soon each finds themselves on the edge of disgrace. In an act of desperation Lucien forges David's signature on bank loans that have devastating consequences for his friend(brother-in-law)and sister. There are many more subplots that are complicated enough that separate reviews could be composed for each. Balzac does an amazing job juggling the plots without confusing the reader. Each new revelation has far reaching ramifications and I found myself squirming in my seat as each new piece of the puzzle is revealed. Balzac creates a whole host of characters, wonderful characters, some who have bit parts, but have larger roles to play as part of the grander scheme of the world of the Human Comedy. Characters flow in and out of his books. In one book they may have a large role and in another a mere scene. He wrote 92 books that composed the Human Comedy and had sketches for 55 more. He created over 3,000 characters. Balzac is surprisingly funny, with skewering wit and a telescopic eye for human behavior. He was part of the realism movement and the characters of these books are the same people that are serving us coffee, delivering our mail, writing newspaper articles, and lending us money today. People have the same foibles and good qualities as they did a hundred years ago. In the form of Eve, David's wife and Lucien's sister, Balzac also reminds us of those few really special people that we occasionally meet who exemplify what we all wish to be....nice. BalzacI got to say I'm hooked. I am curious to see what happens to more of these characters and in the span of one book I've only met a very few of the characters that Balzac brings to life in the Human Comedy. I must meet the rest. I will read more Balzac.
What do You think about Lost Illusions (2006)?
I need to expand my knowledge of Balzac and read something other than this work, because I always get caught up in Lucien's tale, despite the fact that he's a selfish, destructive twit. Lucien is a proud poet from a small town who travels to Paris looking for fame and fortune. Being denied immediate success, he's left with two choices: become a journalist, wielding the power to sink or float plays and novels with his pen. Or keep his soul and remain a starving poet. Lucien is not a hero. His sister and brother-in-law are clearly the better people, and perhaps the ones we should be following, but they're not the story.And despite his many flaws, the plaintive tear-filled pleas Lucien made to the friend (whose novel he was being asked to malign) did move me to tears, even while Balzac was quick to point out how easily Lucien would find it to move on.
—Brianna
I loved this book. It is full of wit and wisdom, and, I'm pleased to say, Balzac tends to favour wit over wisdom if there is ever a conflict. If you're in any way involved in the modern publishing industry, you should definitely read this book, especially the part where the young poet, Lucien, is making his way in the world as an author and journalist in nineteenth century Paris. You will be horrified to see how much of his life you recognise in your own.It's a long book and the ending has the feel of someone wrapping up loose ends, and not making a great job of it. But read it anyway. With Lost Illusions, it is the journey that matters. You could practically dip into the book at random and enjoy it just for the cleverness of the writing.
—Graham Storrs
Leggendo questo libro, mi sono resa conto di quanto mi sia mancato leggere Balzac, i personaggi, lo stile che fanno parte della sua opera. "Le illusioni perdute" è come recita il titolo, una storia di illusioni, di speranze cadute, di sogni infranti, di speranze mai realizzate o realizzate solo in parte, una storia contorniata da aspetti amari e tristi rappresentati nella figura di Luciano Chardon. Luciano Chardon, il personaggio principale, nel quale si può identificare Honoré de Balzac, è figlio di un ex ufficiale medico, è un giovane ambizioso, il cui sogno di diventare scrittore si scontra con la realtà parigina, una realtà dura, difficile da digerire e sopportare per chi forse, come lui, viene dalla provincia, Angouleme, per la precisione. Un romanzo di spessore e non solo per le 656 pagina, ma anche per quello che esprime. E' una storia di maturazione, di autoaffermazione. Una storia che mi ha emozionato, che mi ha regalato molto e che vi consiglio.
—Simona
