خیال می‌کنم هنوز نمی‌توانم رمان نو را درک کنم. مثل «جادهٔ فلاندر» که با هزار امید و آرزو شروع به خواندنش کردم و بعد با شلم‌شوربایی بی‌سروته مواجه شدم، تربیت احساسات هم ناامیدم کرد. در این رمان با یک جوان بی‌اراده، خجالتی و احساساتی مواجهیم که از اول تا آخر کتاب بین زن‌های مختلف سرگردان است. هیچ کاری نمی‌کند، هیچ اتفاقی نمی‌افتد، و خواننده در نهایت به هیچ نتیجه‌ای نمی‌رسد. خود فلوبر گفته بود «می‌خواهم کتابی دربارهٔ هیچ بنویسم. کتابی که خودبه‌خود در هوا معلق بماند» و همین کار را کرد. کتاب از ابتدا تا انتها شرح جزئیاتی بی‌اهمیت بود از توهمات جوانی به نام فردریک که لابه‌لای آن ماجرای انقلاب ۱۸۴۸ فرانسه نیز گنجانده شده بود که بسیار خسته‌کننده بود.

مارسل پروست در شاهکارش «در جست‌وجوی زمان از دست رفته» می‌نویسد: ادیبی که با او از یک «کتاب خوب» تازه حرف می‌زنی پیشاپیش از بیحوصلگی خمیازه می‌کشد، چون میانگین گونه‌ای از همهٔ کتابهای خوبی را در نظر می‌آورد که خوانده است، حال آن‌که یک کتاب خوب چیزی خاص و پیش‌بینی نکردنی است، و نه از مجموع همهٔ شاهکارهای پیش از خود بلکه از چیزی ساخته شده است که برای یافتنش جذب کامل آن مجموع هیچ بس نیست، چون درست در بیرون از آن است. ادیبی که تا اندکی پیش دلزده بود، همین‌که با این اثر تازه آشنا شد به واقعیتی که اثر توصیف می‌کند علاقه‌مند می‌شود.

من هم با به یاد سپردن این نکته و بدون هیچ‌گونه پیش‌زمینهٔ ذهنی سراغ «تربیت احساسات» رفتم اما نتیجه دلچسب نبود. به داستان علاقه‌مند نشدم و این بی‌میلی تا انتها ادامه داشت.

Dithering Heights.

Debería crear una estantería de “novelas incalificables”, en donde podría agregar todos esos libros que me resultaron arduos y que, al mismo tiempo, tienen una construcción y un trasfondo tan fenomenal que sería una completa desalmada si les pusiera una sola estrella. Noté que me sucedió con varias novelas francesas del mismo siglo. La educación sentimental me hizo sufrir, porque sus altibajos son incontables, los personajes son detestables y en ciertos momentos no hay nada por lo cual interesarse.
El argumento es sencillísimo y hasta les puede sonar parecido al de otras novelas. Moreau es el típico personaje provinciano que va a la ciudad para triunfar, algo que en esa época podría traducirse como “mantener varias amantes, rodearse de amigos más inteligentes y más poderosos que uno y conseguir un puesto de trabajo gracias a todos ellos”. La sociedad (preferiría utilizar la idea de Balzac en Papá Goriot porque me parece más exacta: el lodazal) está repleta de ellos. Y Moreau cumple con todas las condiciones, porque es un muchacho indeciso, se limita a pensar por imitación y vive arrastrado por las circunstancias. Esto no es un dato menor: la presencia del contexto histórico en esta novela es muy fuerte. Francia va camino a la Revolución de 1848 y la agitación política golpea a todos los personajes, a los cuales Flaubert les dio una posición tambaleante.
Todo lo que amé de La educación sentimental está situado en la tercera y última parte. No quiero contar demasiado, por supuesto, así que me limito a decir que Flaubert se lució. Tampoco quiero aburrir elogiando el narrador, pero podría definirlo a mi manera: explosivo, detallista y poco explicativo cuando quiere. Lo realmente genial está en cómo surgen las voces de los personajes sin abandonar la tercera persona (¡y ya en esa época!).
Mientras lo leía, llegué a preguntarme muchas veces cuál era el motivo principal de mi hastío, además de los que mencioné anteriormente. Creo que ya estaba cansada de los advenedizos al estilo Rastignac o Bel Ami, de la focalización en frivolidades, de las reuniones y fiestas en donde no ocurre nada, de la misoginia gratuita y los conflictos amorosos forzados. La historia de Moreau no es ni tan simpática ni tan intrigante como para terminar el libro en dos días. Si tuviera que recomendarlo, lo haría sólo por esos recursos técnicos que a mí tanto me gustan y por la genialidad de Flaubert para convertir argumentos soporíferos (aunque muy reales, por cierto) en una obra literaria respetable. Y subrayo, como siempre, que son apreciaciones e interpretaciones personales.

Long time friends will know I have a great love of the English novel of the nineteenth century, but, heavens, it’s a ponderous beast when compared to this work by Flaubert.

Written in 1869 this feels a far more modern novel , with a rapid pace which covers events in two chapters that it takes most contemporaneous novels a volume to deal with. Indeed it would be hard to imagine such a swift style ever use in 1800s Britain, if anything it feels more appropriate to a novel about 1960’s Carnaby Street. The morality too is much different to straight-laced Victoriana, with the lead character spending most of the book in love with a married woman and even scheming on how best to get her into bed. This is before he actually moves in with the woman of easy virtue.

Frederic Moreau is the young antihero: a lazy, feckless, amoral and envious sort, who we follow through this tumultuous period of French history. (Flaubert is superb at weaving his characters into real events, although if – like me – you don’t have expert knowledge of this era then an edition with good notes is essential). Thinking of the 1960s may actually be a good window for the modern reader to start reading this book, there is the social mobility, the tumultuous times, the ambitious young men and the sex (if not the drugs and rock’n’roll). Covering a number of years Flaubert follows his character as he succeeds and then fails many times over until the reader, whilst still probably not liking him, does understand him and the world he lives in.

L’Educazione Sentimentale pubblicato nel 1869 dallo scrittore francese Gustave Flaubert [1821-1880], racconta in maniera esemplare l’irresoluta e incerta vita sociale e amorosa del protagonista, il giovane Frederic Moreau, che lasciata la provincia francese per la capitale aspirando a gloria imperitura e ad amore eterno, a lungo andare si dimostrerà incapace di gestire la sua vita privata e sociale come il suo impeto giovanile avrebbe sperato.

Un romanzo che accanto alle vicende private del protagonista e dei personaggi comprimari, maschili e femminili che ruotano intorno alla sua vita delinea in maniera mirabile un microcosmo che riflette la società francese borghese dell’epoca con le sue contraddizioni, aspirazioni, ideali, mostrando le difficoltà della Francia a ritrovare un equilibrio sociale e politico dopo i tempi della Rivoluzione, dell’Impero e della Restaurazione.

Más que la historia en general, lo que amé fue la forma de escribir de Flaubert. Las descripciones, los cambios de tiempo, los personajes; en fin, fue magnifico. Además esa tercera parte fue lo que más me agradó del libro. Su calificación sería un 4.5

'Sentimental Education' seems a very unusual 19th century novel to me. On the surface it follows Frédéric, a quite attractive young man from a respectable family. Frédéric has a promising future and high hopes. Time passes, the story unfolds; the young man gets older, he experiences love, happiness, disappontment, sadness, joy and grief (against the background of the dramatic historic events) - he receives the usual 'sentimental education'.
It seems there is nothing unusual about this kind of plot apart from the fact that the novel is a huge sarcastic caricature of the characters, events, relationships, etc. and this what makes the work different from the other 19th century texts.
We can see a caricature of love, a caricature of friendship, a caricature of a duel, a caricature of a funeral, a caricature of death, a caricature of an artist, etc.
Flaubert has no mercy on his characters, their thoughts, emotions, passions, weaknesses and actions. He sneers at practically all of them. Is that why the structure of the novel seems somewhat chaotic and personalities are schematic and unrealistic? Is Flaubert's cynicism the result of his own disappontment and bitter feelings?

'It was filled with women sitting close to one another in little groups on seats without backs. Their long skirts, swelling round them, seemed like waves, from which their waists emerged; and their breasts were clearly outlined by the slope of their corsages. Nearly every one of them had a bouquet of violets in her hand. The dull shade of their gloves showed off the whiteness of their arms, which formed a contrast with its human flesh tints. Over the shoulders of some of them hung fringe or mourning-weeds, and, every now and then, as they quivered with emotion, it seemed as if their
bodices were about to fall down. But the decorum of their countenances tempered the exciting effect of their costumes. Several of them had a placidity almost like that of animals; and this
resemblance to the brute creation on the part of half-nude women made him think of the interior of a harem—indeed, a grosser comparison suggested itself to the young man's mind. Every variety of beauty was to be found there—some English ladies, with the profile familiar in "keepsakes"; an Italian, whose black eyes shot forth lava-like flashes, like a Vesuvius; three sisters, dressed in blue; three Normans, fresh as April apples; a tall red-haired girl, with a set of amethysts. And the
bright scintillation of diamonds, which trembled in aigrettes worn over their hair, the luminous spots of precious stones laid over their breasts, and the delightful radiance of pearls which adorned their foreheads mingled with the glitter of gold rings, as well as with the lace, powder, the feathers, the vermilion of dainty mouths, and the mother-of-pearl hue of teeth. The ceiling, rounded like a cupola, gave to the boudoir the form of a flower-basket, and a current of perfumed air circulated under the flapping of their fans.
Frederick, planting himself behind them, put up his eyeglass and scanned their shoulders, not all of which did he consider irreproachable. He thought about the Maréchale, and this dispelled the temptations that beset him or consoled him for not yielding to them.'
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'For certain men action becomes more difficult as desire becomes stronger. They are embarrassed by self-distrust, and terrified by the fear of making themselves disliked. Besides, deep attachments resemble virtuous women: they are afraid of being discovered, and pass through life with downcast eyes.'
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'Deslauriers believed in Frederick's statement on the point, and expressed approval of his conduct, for he had always been ambitious of constituting a phalanx of which he would be the leader. Certain men take delight in making their friends do things which are disagreeable to them.'
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'It was over, this life full of anxieties! How many journeys had he not made to various places? How many rows of figures had he not piled together? How many speculations had he not hatched? How many reports had he not heard read? What quackeries, what smiles and curvets! For he had acclaimed Napoléon, the Cossacks, Louis XVIII., 1830, the working-men, every régime, loving power so dearly that he would have paid in order to have the opportunity of selling himself.'
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'And she fell back on a chair, crushed. A mother grieving beside an empty cradle was not more woeful than Madame Dambreuse was at the sight of the open strong-boxes. Indeed, her sorrow, in spite of the baseness of the motive which inspired it, appeared so deep that he tried to console her by reminding her that, after all, she was not reduced to sheer want.
"It is want, when I am not in a position to offer you a large fortune!"
She had not more than thirty thousand livres a year, without taking into account the mansion, which was worth from eighteen to twenty thousand, perhaps.
Although to Frederick this would have been opulence, he felt, none the less, a certain amount of disappointment. Farewell to his dreams and to all the splendid existence on which he had intended to enter! Honour compelled him to marry Madame Dambreuse. For a minute he reflected; then, in a tone of tenderness:
"I'll always have yourself!"
She threw herself into his arms, and he clasped her to his breast with an emotion in which there was a slight element of admiration for himself.'
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'But there was no way of learning any more about it! However, what was the use of it? The hearts of
women are like little pieces of furniture wherein things are secreted, full of drawers fitted into each other; one hurts himself, breaks his nails in opening them, and then finds within only some withered flower, a few grains of dust— or emptiness! And then perhaps he felt afraid of learning too much about the matter.'
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'She played her part badly, after all; for she grew serious, and even before going to bed always exhibited a little melancholy, just as there are cypress trees at the door of a tavern.'

Flaubert si documentava in modo pazzesco. leggeva quantità di libri per scrivere i suoi romanzi, arrivando a sfiorare l'idiozia; come Swift, aveva infatti il timore di essere idiota, e forse lo era un po'. quando scrisse la "tentazione di sant'Antonio" e lo lesse ai suoi amici, gli dissero che avrebbe dovuto concentrarsi su una storia meno magniloquente, una storia più modesta. e allora pensò a madame Bovary; una cosa che a me sembra un'assurdità, ma questo era Flaubert. per salambò fece non so quante ricerche, però mi dicono che ci sono parecchie imprecisioni. per bouvard e pecuchet arrivò addirittura a identificare la casa "reale" dei due sempliciotti.
tutto il contrario di Henry James, che quando ascoltava una storia da cui poteva trarre il tema per un suo racconto, dopo averne colto le linee essenziali, faceva tacere i narratori perché non voleva ulteriori dettagli. il tutto doveva essere elaborato dalla sua immaginazione. vero è che Henry James aveva il dono di captare idee, e l'impressione generale è che il suo mondo sia molto più ricco e denso di sfumature di quello di Flaubert, ma h.james ha il difetto di rendere poco vividi i suoi racconti; pochi i dettagli plastici, i personaggi sono spesso inconsistenti; c'è una certa tendenza melodrammatica. Da questo punto di vista James è qualche spanna sotto sia Kipling che Conrad, signori indiscussi del racconto lungo o romanzo breve, che dir si voglia. Non c'è uno scrittore italiano che gli assomiglia; perché Buzzati ad esempio scriveva storie non molto complesse, più allegoriche, e aveva un'incapacità quasi assoluta nel creare caratteri. Buzzati annaspa insieme a noi nella sua realtà, non arriva al castello né sa il modo per arrivarci.

"l'educazione sentimentale" mi è sempre sembrato orrendo, e non credo di averlo mai letto per intero.

اونقدر دلنشین و جذاب نوشته شده که حتی جاهایی که هیچی از جریان نمیفهمیدم هم خوندنش برام جالب بود
کاش اطلاعات تاریخی و سیاسی بهتری داشتم تا کامل متوجه میشدم
اگر قبلش راجع به انقلاب فرانسه اطلاعات داشته باشین قطعا خیلی کمک میکنه
از کتاباییه که دوست دارم حتما بتونم دوباره بخونم

What can I really say about a book published more than 100 years ago that has been considered a masterpiece ever since?

Well, it's really good.

The novel traces the life from student to early old age of one Francois Moreau, a man who at a young age falls in love with Madame Arnoux, another man's wife . . . He is not really able to express his love for her until it is much too late. In the interim, he has an affair with a kept woman, Rosante, a very young woman from the country, and the wife of his sometimes benefactor, Madame Descaumbes.

The novel also follows his friendships with a number of men he meets in law school, from various classes and different political positions.

They live and participate in a decidedly corrupt society, in which they strive to make connection with men likely to advance their careers. It is assumed that government officials take bribes. And men who have enough money keep mistresses. Besides ordinary prostitutes, there are at least 3 grades of kept women, each with its own status in the hierarchy.

The action of the novel takes place in the years leading up to thee French revolutions of 1848 and ends shortly after the coup that brought to power Napoleon III as boss of the Second Empire in 1852.


It seems that Moreau is capable of feeling intense romantic love -- he feels it for Mme. Arnoux -- but he lacks the energy or desire to act on it. He has only a slight interest in politics except as a topic of conversation, and in the midst of a revolution, he feels affinity for the bourgeoisie (his own class), but does not take action. It's been suggested that he represents a generation disillusioned with Romanticism, which in some forms demanded action (Byron and Bakunin were motivated by Romantic views of politics). It seems it's inertia, perhaps some laziness, and sometimes material self-interest that keeps him from acting.


"Sentimental education," I am told, refers to the process of learning to relate to women, to enjoy relations (emotional, sexual etc etc) with them, and to love. Moreau's sentimental education is stunted and partially sordid. The title should be read ironically.


Flaubert is known as a great stylist; unfortunately, we will need to learn French to appreciate that.

I would recommend the novel to anyone who likes Flaubert, French novels, or good novels in general.

The Oxford Classics edition offers a very valuable apparatus, including a glossary of historical figures, a historical sketch on the political background of the novel, and notes to the text.

I would also recommend this novel to anyone preparing to read Pierre Bourdieu's The Rules of Art: Genesis and Structure of the Literary Field, which uses the novel in its introductory section, or Karl Marx' The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Napoleon, his analysis of the events of 1848-1852, because you will learn what happened in those years in preparation for Brother Karlo's analysis.

موضوع کلی داستان ساده و چیزی نبود که قبل‌تر توی کتابی نخونده باشیم؛ اما امان، امان از جزئیات پرپیچ‌و‌تاب و زیبای فلوبر. هروقت نیاز به جزئی‌نگری در داستانی داشتید و حوصله‌تون به‌قدر کافی فراخ بود، این کتاب شما رو به دنیای دیگه‌ای می‌بره. و تنها ایرادی که می‌تونم بگیرم موضوعات سیاسی-اجتماعی‌ای بود که برای من خیلی جالب نبود و انگار با باقی کتاب حل نمی‌شد. به نوعی حس می‌کردم دارم کتابی از برادر داستایوسکی می‌خونم که اتفاق‌های داستانش حول عشقی در رفت‌وآمد پیش میره.

I have been educated.