My friend Annie Connor is still a bit miffed with me for suggesting Madame Bovary, years ago, as a book choice for our book club. She hated the book and I just LOVED it.
There is something about the character of Bovary that is so believable, even though she is over the top.
She wants to live a life full of adventure, continual romance and free from want, and yet, she must face the fact that much of life is in the details, the stuff that has to get done. That, There is no fantasy escape, free of total want. Don't many of us vacillate between these worlds, the fantasy vs. the reality? I think so. What makes Bovary so tragic is that she is never able to accommodate the two, she prefers the fantasy to everything else, so of course nothing will be good enough. She will be continually let down. I couldn't help but think, while reading the book and also then seeing the insanely beautiful Vincent Minnelli version in 1949, that Bovary is like a lot of people trapped within social aspects of class, gender, race, that desperately want to escape. They turn to the outside world for images of success, and find the answer there. Like the magazines that construct ideas of success and beauty today, Bovary buried herself in the sketches and paintings of her era, pasting her walls with these images. These images became her markers of success. Bovary only wants to be in the scenes of beauty, but instead she feels everything is hideous. In this scene we see Bovary as she escapes into her fantasy. She is excited by her image in the mirror and the men that seem interested. She dances as she has seen others do, and yet her husband, a simple but kind doctor, who has gotten drunk, because He feels out of his element, comes in and ruins her fantasy. The editing, the music, the wasteful access of the crashed windows, there is an operatic sense to this scene that is so fitting, heartbreaking, yes, and also magnificent.
There is something about the character of Bovary that is so believable, even though she is over the top.
She wants to live a life full of adventure, continual romance and free from want, and yet, she must face the fact that much of life is in the details, the stuff that has to get done. That, There is no fantasy escape, free of total want. Don't many of us vacillate between these worlds, the fantasy vs. the reality? I think so. What makes Bovary so tragic is that she is never able to accommodate the two, she prefers the fantasy to everything else, so of course nothing will be good enough. She will be continually let down. I couldn't help but think, while reading the book and also then seeing the insanely beautiful Vincent Minnelli version in 1949, that Bovary is like a lot of people trapped within social aspects of class, gender, race, that desperately want to escape. They turn to the outside world for images of success, and find the answer there. Like the magazines that construct ideas of success and beauty today, Bovary buried herself in the sketches and paintings of her era, pasting her walls with these images. These images became her markers of success. Bovary only wants to be in the scenes of beauty, but instead she feels everything is hideous. In this scene we see Bovary as she escapes into her fantasy. She is excited by her image in the mirror and the men that seem interested. She dances as she has seen others do, and yet her husband, a simple but kind doctor, who has gotten drunk, because He feels out of his element, comes in and ruins her fantasy. The editing, the music, the wasteful access of the crashed windows, there is an operatic sense to this scene that is so fitting, heartbreaking, yes, and also magnificent.
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