\\n   “La vida es eso, un cabo de luz que acaba en la noche” \\n

What a surprise. Where I expected to find a dense jungle through which to hack my way, I instead encountered a fresh, direct, unadorned, sarcastic, funny, aphoristically fierce, intelligently elusive, politically incorrect orchard of language. Yes, with diatribes that had nothing to do with the Nazi-leaning idea I had of the author.

\\n   “I assure you, good and poor people, idiots, the unhappy, those beaten by life, flayed, always soaked in sweat, I warn you, when the great ones of this world take a dislike to you, it means they are going to turn you into cannon fodder… It's the sign… Infallible” \\n

His naive character, with a shrewd insolence and an infinite lasciviousness, leaves no puppet with a head, being more of a puppet than anyone else —naive yes, but not innocent—. He bombards generals and soldiers for their madness and bloody, patriotic blindness (“There's nothing like generals for loving roses. As we all know”). He abhors the alienating capitalism, the destructive colonialism, but, above all, he abhors the resignation of the humble who believe they deserve their suffering and, more than those who oppress them, they choose their equals as enemies.

\\n   “These former fans were nothing but petulant suitcases in the supreme art of making the vertical animal give its greatest effort in the grind. Those primitives didn't know how to call the slave «Sir», nor make him vote from time to time, nor pay him his wage, nor, above all, take him to war, to free him from his passions” \\n

This complacent rascal named Bardamu, who shares the name with his creator, will be dragged by an inescapable and naive impulse in search of emotions that will accompany him throughout the novel and that will serve Céline to take us from the horrors of war to the corruption and horror of colonialism in Africa, then to the tyranny of capitalism and to the loneliness in the populous and individualistic American societies, back to France as a doctor in the suburban periphery and, after a short time as an extra, to director of a mental asylum (sic). It doesn't matter the place, all are appropriate to highlight how despicable the species of which we are proud members is.

\\n   “Resentful and docile, violated, robbed, disemboweled, and always idiots. Just like we were! You don't say! We haven't changed!, not our socks, not our masters, not our opinions, or so late that it's not worth it. We were born faithful, we're bursting with fidelity! Unpaid soldiers, heroes for everyone, half-wits, painful words, we are the favorites of King Misery” \\n

Although within this our species, the organism that concentrates the most vehement contempt of Céline is the brutish, suckling, dim-witted, botched, ill-intentioned and aggressive horde of the poor.

\\n   “For the poor there are two great ways of getting screwed in this world, by the absolute indifference of their fellows in times of peace or by the homicidal passion of the same, when war comes” \\n

Rapacious, cowardly, capable of anything for a little more money, entertained by the lottery, the movies, sports gossip and submitted to the “enthusiastic submission to the natural needs, of pulling and scratching”, life does not treat them well and they take revenge as they can, without pity.

\\n   “After all, why shouldn't there be an art in ugliness as there is in beauty?” \\n

In short, nothing can be done when one doesn't have “the love for the life of others”, these poor unhappy people will become more and more ugly and repulsive beings, walking failures who wallow in their “dirty memories” filling their interior with more shit, while the exterior body, “disguised as agitated and trivial molecules, reveals itself all the time against this atrocious farce of lasting”. Only death remains, the end of the night, “the country of eternal tenderness and instant oblivion”… well, not only, while it arrives it's dark night, we have the pleasure, “that moment when matter becomes life”… something is something.

\\n   “One has to give up the hope of leaving the pain somewhere along the way” \\n

After all that has been said, someone will wonder why not that fifth star. It could be, but the novel, which begins at a frenetic pace in the part dedicated to the war, deflates a bit in its African and American journey and, although it rises again outstandingly in the Parisian suburbs, it fell back on me in its final sections.

“Misery is like some horrible woman you’ve married. Maybe it’s better to end up loving her a little than to knock yourself out beating her all your life. Since obviously you won’t be able to bump her off.”

  “Misery is like some horrible woman you’ve married. Maybe it’s better to end up loving her a little than to knock yourself out beating her all your life. Since obviously you won’t be able to bump her off.”

Journey to the End of the Night is an outstandingly well-written and astoundingly intelligent novel. In it, we meet the delightfully misanthropic Bardamu, who departs France after WWI and embarks on travels to Africa and America before returning to France and the end of the night. This book is rife with sarcasm and can perhaps be best characterized as a venomous sneer of disgust and contempt for humanity and life in general. It is saturated with a full measure of despair, and yet it also contains a significant amount of (sharp) humor and occasional moments of warmth. Mind you, these are just moments.

In the afterword to this book, William T. Vollmann writes: “Why’s Céline a great writer? Because he pisses on everything.” I would add that this encompasses pissing on the very fact that he’s pissing on everything. He had one of those rare voices that I come across every so often in literature, which make me realize that I’m not quite as pessimistic and negative as I often think I am. He demonstrated to me that I don’t truly piss on everything everything, just on everything else.

So you can take that for what it’s worth. Which, according to Céline, would be nothing.

Also, I’d like to include this for those who call Céline out on his misogyny and/or racism in the context of this book:

I declare myself incredibly lucky! I was reading slowly to lose the language and prolong the enjoyment. Until the middle of the work, I also had an anxiety about the journey, about the next stop.

Because "Journey to the End of the Night" is a travelogue in Europe during World War I, in distant Africa, in industrial America, and in interwar France that the author knows firsthand. It is a reverse Odyssey, where the end of it is not the paternal home but the end of the night, which the narrator approaches by taking strong doses from it at each stop.

Celine's journey is also a journey with the aim of knowing oneself and life. You can't help but see the existential intensity that runs through it: "I had lost my Faith!... I had set sail for worry... but I liked my vice more, this desire to put it at my feet from everywhere, wandering and I don't know what, from silly pride for sure, from faith in some kind of superiority.... I returned alone within myself, very satisfied that I was even more unhappy than before, because I had brought back to my solitude a new kind of despair and something that resembled a real feeling."

You could also call it a coming-of-age journey. The narrator starts as a young soldier who enlists as a volunteer in World War I. Very quickly, the naivety and enthusiasm of the first pages give way to a caustic realism: "Above our heads, two thousandths, maybe one thousandth from the temples, were dangling to go back behind those other distant, reconnaissance wires that erase the voices as soon as they wander to kill you, in the hot air of summer.

I had never felt so useless among all these voices and lights of this sun. A huge, global choir." At the next stop, which is the colonized Africa, Celine does not simply limit himself to a denunciation of the aspects of racism. Whites and Blacks try to survive in a hell of absurdity and exploitation. The hero-narrator survives and continues in the search for his own American dream. I don't know if there are better pages to describe the industrial revolution, the overwhelming power of the big city, the alternation of emotions that one experiences when everything is original. I would like to convey to you the part of the book about America itself.

In the last part of the book, the narrator returns to postwar France, where he is bioprized as the doctor of the poor in the Parisian suburbs. The narrator now takes on the role of the observer of life, without great expectations, where however he clearly sides with the poor and the downtrodden.

Not for a moment did I feel the pessimism and misanthropy that are attributed to him. No one makes a journey to the ends of the earth and the soul if he is simply a pessimist and nihilist. Celine loves man in his own unique, howling way and chooses to plunge into the depths of the night "to understand what is happening around us in life." He is incapable of self-deception and illusions. "The end of the mystery, the end of naivety, we ate all our poetry, since we have lived until now. Life is a pumpkin."

For me: the sincerity, the brutality, the spoiled cynicism, the humor, the idiosyncratic humanism, the despair up to sarcasm, and the ambiguous speech of Celine had a revitalizing effect, just before the difficult year 2020 expired.

“Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.”

Recently, I had the opportunity to watch the remarkable Italian film The Great Beauty. The film begins with a profound quote by Louis-Ferdinand Céline: “Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength.” Directed by Paolo Sorrentino, this film has had a profound impact on my life. It's a work of art that showcases the lush and truthful power of cinema.

After the movie ended, I found myself sitting there, amazed that something could keep my mitochondria working even after my brain seemed to explode. I also had a hyper-awareness of the red corpuscles bringing animation back to my slackened muscles. It was in that moment that I realized I needed to expect more from myself. I wanted to engage in various activities, such as writing, climbing, jumping, capturing perfect moments, and even having some wild and crazy experiences like drinking cognac from the belly button of a Sudanese princess and driving really fast.

Inspired by the film, I decided to start by reading a book that had been sitting on my shelf for a decade, Journey to the end of the night. Since Sorrentino began his film with a quote from Céline, I felt compelled to explore his work. I had never read Céline before, and I admit that I felt a bit foolish for not being familiar with his writing. However, this experience also made me curious about why Sorrentino would choose that particular quote to begin his film.

Céline was a complex and controversial figure. He wanted to write a truthful novel that would expose the hidden thoughts and covert meanings that lie beneath our communication with each other. His pessimism about humanity led him to believe that everyone is trapped in the conventions of secretly believing one thing and revealing another. His character, Ferdinand Bardamu, embodies this cynicism.

Bardamu deserts the French army during WW1 at the urging of his friend Léon Robinson. The war had a profound impact on Céline as well. He was in the war and was even awarded a medal for heroism. However, his experiences also led him to a more cynical view of the world.

Like Bardamu, Céline also spent time in Africa working for a company. Little is known about his time there, but it seems that it did not go well. In the book, Bardamu's experiences in Africa are far from pleasant, and he even contemplates returning to the war.

The book is a scattershot of ideas with a meandering plot. At times, it can feel a bit overreaching, with ideas presented too forcefully. However, there are also moments of great beauty and insight. The black humor that weaves in and out of the paragraphs helps to lighten the tone and keep the cynicism from becoming too overwhelming.

Overall, reading Journey to the end of the night has given me a new perspective on Céline's work and has deepened my appreciation for The Great Beauty. Now, when I rewatch the film or come across a reference to Céline in a book, I can nod sagely and feel a sense of satisfaction in not being one step behind.

\\n  \\n
Toni Servillo is Jep Gambardella in The Great Beauty

\\n  \\n
Louis-Ferdinand Céline

“Eso es quizás lo que buscamos a lo largo de la vida, eso y nada más, el mayor dolor posible para llegar a ser plenamente nosotros mismos antes de morir.” This profound statement was made by a critic. Another critic also said, "Si Céline realmente pensara lo que ha escrito se suicidaría." And yet another affirmed, "Muchos lectores consideran a Viaje al fin de la noche un libro repugnante." I really don't know sometimes where literary critics want to go with such phrases. Or perhaps I do: it's their job. They know the path but know how to handle it. I don't consider this novel either repugnant, or rebellious, or transgressive or anything like that. It's simply the story that Ferdinand Bardamu himself is narrating about himself like so many others. Bardamu is a free man who, after deserting the French army during World War I, becomes a vagabond, a seeker of a living. In this way, he wanders through France, through the French colonies in Africa, through the United States and back to France. Directly, that's for sure, and without frills, with a direct language, some swear words and lacking in care, he narrates his life experiences and how he gets involved with the characters that appear in his life. And that's all. I believe that Céline marked a trend that was taken up by the writers who followed him: the trend of narrating as they pleased without prohibiting themselves anything or complying with the cardboard canons of the critics who contribute nothing to literature. Writers like Louis-Ferdinand Céline have made history precisely by being original and in this way they are still read all over the world today.

Journey to the End of the Night is by no means considered a mainstream work. At the time of its release, it faced a polarizing controversy. On one hand, it was suppressed and boycotted by political forces, and on the other hand, it was criticized by the European literary elite on the eve of the war. Although the situation is very different now, and except for Iran itself, which more or less suspends the publication license of this book or tries to censor it, in most parts of the world, Ferdinando Celine is praised as a capable writer with a dark and deceptive perception.

Although it seems that Celine has written about his real experiences, hardly anyone close to him can confirm such a thing. However, despite the huge amount of abuse and sometimes blackening that has appeared in this book, it must be said that if Ferdinando Bardamu inside Journey to the End of the Night is the real Ferdinando Celine, the writer has shown a great deal of courage to expose his inner world.

As the title of the book indicates, the reading experience of this journey is supposed to be equivalent to a painful and very long journey at the end of the night and into the depths of the complex human nature. In Celine's view, people are defined by their vices in the ordinary state and are highly at the mercy of their physical desires. To such an extent that after 170 pages, only one person is described with complete sincerity. That person is an officer of a humble outpost in the middle of the equatorial jungles. Or later, the one who manages to win Celine's positive view is a kind American Russian.

The priest hasn't thought about his God for a long time, while the church servant is still standing on his faith!... And he too can hardly keep his emotions in check.

Journey to the End of the Night will by no means be devoid of grief and sorrow, and the story is full of events and incidents that deeply sadden the reader and make the reading of the work extremely difficult.

War in Celine's dictionary has a much lower rank than the common examples of contemporary literature. Although most of the time, a kind of political exploitation is hidden in the condemnation of war, but Celine's war is presented as evil regardless of personal interests and only because of human nature. If in Spielberg's cinema, war is shown along with a lot of patriotism and beautiful qualities of the American flag, there is no such nonsense here at all. Celine's hero from the war zone flees and tries to surrender himself to the enemy's captivity in order to perhaps escape from the battle and return home safely. That's why I claim that Celine, with an unprecedented sincerity, guides us on a journey into the depths of history.

Finally, although we are not confronted with a strong story and structure, and it does not have the attractions of ordinary novels, but due to the author's use of reality and the frankness of the frustrated officer, the shortcomings of the story part of the work are compensated to a certain extent. Celine's speeches and teachings are never bombastic and artificial, but in some places, they are long and drawn out like water. With this in mind, you must prepare yourself for a long journey, accompanied by turmoil.

We can rewrite and expand the given text as follows:

We are going to review this book with just one word. That word is "God". It was just "God" and nothing else. This simple word holds such profound significance. It makes us think about the power, the mystery, and the presence that might be associated with it. When we consider this word in the context of the book, it could imply a spiritual journey, a search for meaning, or a connection to something greater than ourselves. It leaves us with a sense of wonder and curiosity, making us want to explore further what the author might have intended to convey through this single word.

A stochastic literary work, ideas, passion, language in full bloom, but for those who like the plot, it is most likely to tire you. Nevertheless, don't be scared. Let it go. And I, who am of the plot, loved it.

This stochastic literary piece is a unique creation. It presents a world where ideas and passion collide, expressed through a rich and vivid language. While the lack of a traditional plot may seem off-putting to some, it offers a different kind of experience. It challenges the reader to engage with the text on a deeper level, to explore the emotions and thoughts that are being conveyed.

For those who are willing to let go of their expectations and embrace the chaos, this work can be a truly rewarding experience. It allows you to step out of your comfort zone and discover new ways of looking at the world. So, don't be afraid to give it a try. You might just be surprised by what you find.

A nihilistic freight train.
First published in French in 1932, this work remains remarkably readable and relevant. It can be regarded as a clarion call for all the pent-up cynicism and aggression of Generation X.

It has exerted a wild influence. Although Celine's prose might seem pedestrian to a post-modern reader, that's precisely because so many now write in a similar vein. We must envision what a trailblazer this was in the 1930s. I can clearly see how it has influenced Joseph Heller, Henry Miller, William Burroughs, Charles Bukowski, and Kurt Vonnegut. In truth, it was Vonnegut's writing about him that piqued my interest and led me to read this. However, while Vonnegut is concise and funny, Celine's writing is drawn out, meandering, and often brutally pessimistic in a casual way.

It's like a drunken and depraved Fitzgerald, but from a continental perspective. Ferdinand Bardamu survives The Great War in France only to embark on a Conradesque foray into the African trade business. After narrowly escaping with his life from central Africa, he travels to New York and has several adventures there before returning to France to become a doctor for the poor and impoverished, yet never truly escaping poverty himself. Throughout his travels, he parallels life with Leon Robinson, who shares many of the misadventures with Bardamu, making this story so hypnotic.

I thoroughly enjoyed the opening scenes and loved the ending. However, I plodded through the rest of the novel in a haze of morbid curiosity and confusion. Celine employs the literary device of ellipsis to advance the narrative, and it reminded me of Conrad's Nostromo with its elliptical offstage descriptions.

This has been hailed as one of the great novels of the twentieth century, and I can understand that. But I did not love it. While there are some Hunter S. Thompson-like moments of observant clarity, some redeeming scenes, and a few rare humorous elements, overall, it was a dark and gloomy ball-peen hammer between the eyes.

Lewis Ferdinand Seferis, I imagine, has been silent until the moment of writing this book, that is, until the age of thirty-eight, keeping all his words and sayings in his head, waiting patiently for the moment when he can sit down at the typewriter (my mental image of writers when they are writing their books) and start, word by word, like a large ampoule that drips medicine drop by drop into the blood, pounding out the hard and leaden typewriter keys with courage. Otherwise, how could he write a book not a single sentence of which is uninteresting? But all this is false.

At first glance, it seems that Seferis wants to deal with the criticism of war and does not mince words in denouncing it and those who bring it about. But then the reader very quickly realizes that Mr. Seferis is almost dissatisfied with everything and is stingy in filling the space of the novel. But in the middle, the reader is caught by things that are not very related to the emotions of the narrator. The reader sees that yes! The world of the novel may be real. Isn't this darkness and poverty the same emotion that sometimes seizes our minds? Isn't this restlessness of the narrator, who can't stop anywhere and constantly goes from here to there and breaks branches, like our human condition, always on the move? Who can stay in one place all their lives? The narrator can't either and goes, although he has no hope at all. After all these goings, there is never any joy or hope of a new day. The narrator just doesn't want to stay. It's not in his nature.

Seferis' detailed description of the most important and perhaps most obvious features of this novel is astonishing. As if nothing is supposed to come out of his pen. Even if the subject is unimportant. Even if the chain of thoughts is endless about the poverty of life, the captivity of the hands and feet, and hunger, still the narrator continues to talk about the details.

"One day you decide that from the things you have had the greatest passion for daily, you will speak less and less word by word. And when this is necessary, of course, it also takes a lot of effort. You get bored of hearing your own words, you speak less. You hold back your hand. You have been speaking for thirty years. Your heart no longer wants to be right with you. Even the desire to keep the small place that you had set aside for yourself among the pleasures disappears. You become alien to yourself. From now on, it is enough to eat some food. Get warmth for your hands and feet and go on a road that has no end so that you can sleep."

This book is Seferis' way of dealing with the world. This world that, no matter how we calculate, is not very good to us. Poor in many ways. With all these emotions that, after reading and going through and traveling on the path that Seferis has made and given to me, I am not at all disappointed and have not fallen into emptiness or been seized by darkness. This journey is at the end of the night, the end, the end, the end of everything.

This book is so good that no description comes to my mind other than depicting a person away from national and social ties and without a veil. It is something that a person wants to be but civilization does not allow it.

The good news is that this famous book, after 15 years, in 2021, received a reprint license and smoothly entered the market with detailed censorship to the extent of deleting or changing a few words.

Update on December 21, 2021.

I still think that I haven't achieved a complete understanding of the book and it must be read again.

I'm sure that in the next completion of the book, I will give it five stars.

This book has left a deep impression on me. The story is engaging and the characters are vividly portrayed.

However, there are some parts that I find a bit difficult to understand, perhaps due to my limited knowledge or different cultural background.

That's why I believe that reading it again will help me to uncover more of its hidden meanings and appreciate its beauty even more.

I'm really looking forward to my next encounter with this wonderful book.