Nothing really prepared me of reading Bel-Ami even after having watched the movie starring Robbie Pattinson and Uma Thurman. To be honest, I never really had the intention of reading it for a while, but the story in the movie was engaging — this mediocre, no-good, no-talent, above-average looking bloke who sleeps his way up the Paris society and somehow managed to pull it off, but not before a lot of learning pains and eating a few humble pies.
It is a novel that I couldn’t put my finger on, because it is deceivingly simple in its writing, but expansive in the coverage of its themes; it is a book that thrives in the grey of moral ambiguity which makes you question why you are rooting for this vile anti-hero? Nothing is as simple as it looks in Bel-Ami and you can go into the rabbit hole of its side characters who arguably have more depth than our title character. But at the same time, it is a wonderful novel because of the reasons above.
But here’s why I think Bel-Ami is a stunning book:
Shady-ass Georges Duroy
The novel would not have worked if the title character wasn’t so captivating: a dandy moustache that just helps him pull all the ladies, a blind but potent ambition which magically opens doors for him, and a humble underdog beginning. Duroy started off near broke, a simple clerk in the railway whose clothes are falling apart, but an itch to still have a good time, as you would in Paris. He calculates his pennies to decide whether it is worth to buy a beer now, but suffer with hunger the next day. He opted to skip the beer, as the summer heat means that he will gulp the beer down instantly and leave nothing for later. It is this calculative mindset that would take him up the ladders of society as he constantly measures the costs and benefits of his next move. As he reaches the societal ceiling, he calculates whether he would have enough in the tank to smash his younger mistress while he services his simpy older mistress who was promising something to his benefit. Duroy treats women like doormats with zero remorse.
His relationship with others isn’t much better: He is spiteful, willing to stomp on those on his way and squash those who sneer at him. We started off liking Duroy but we end up absolutely being disgusted by him as his moral values deteriorate like the tomatoes in my fridge. At the end, he was willing to gamble a young girl’s future for his when he pretended to elope with her. Reading Duroy is like reading Humbert Humbert in Lolita — a man of moral vacuum, but charming, a magnet that makes you disgusted when all this time, you wanted him to succeed that you sympathise with him.
Minor characters that will leave a major imprint on your mind
Most side characters will appear out of nowhere and whither silently never to be heard from again. However, Norbert de Varenne, Charles Forestier, all the women that Bel-Ami bedded are all well-drawn characters that you can smell their perfumes, hear their coughs and ponder on their contemplations of life. Norbert de Varenne’s fear of death breathing down his neck is disturbing (it scared the shit outta my missus), Forestier’s sickness is nauseating, Monsieur Walter as a newspaperman is the embodiment of greed and power. The women, *frustrated sigh* (HEEEEEEHHHH) they are such interesting, intelligent and captivating characters and you can’t help but sympathise with them for their train wreck affairs with Duroy.
It’s more French than a baguette
Just as British writers would write about post war London, French writers paint Paris in its ditzy nostalgia. The clamour of lights, the summer sweat amid the dancing, the Dionysian drunkenness, the stroll between Arc de Triomphe from Les Champs Elysées. It is a very French novel in that Paris is ever present, like another being that drives the story. The decadence of Paris and her promiscuous citizens, the casual conversations in the dinner table that determine the fate of the country, the hunger to be recognised by people in the theatres, the prostitutes and the brothels of Paris, its working class bars and cheap canteens essential for Duroy’s survival — the fabric of Paris is embedded in the essence of the novel.
Maupassant also takes us to the countryside near Rouen — a juxtaposition between the city and the countryside. The details of the peasant life which unsettled Madeleine shows us the irreparable gulf between the French aristocracy and the lesser privileged. The walk through the woods, the simple nights in the countryside are all vividly written, but much too short.
Ever-present Symbols
There are some imageries used in the novel which are poignant, objects which reflect the character’s mental states and premonitions of things to come. Maupassant used mirrors as the reflection of Duroy’s state of mind — he could not recognise himself with the evening suit that he hired, a yet to be fulfilled ambition for finer things in life, despite his poverty. His and Madeleine’s reflection in the darkness with a weak candle of light echo their moral deterioration. At the same time, the mirror exposes lies, the superficiality of appearances and the vanity of the characters.
The painting of Jesus is a contrast to Duroy. The painting is worshipped by many superficially, much like the characters worship the reflection of themselves in the mirror. Madame Walter saw the resemblance of the painting to Duroy’s face, as he thus becomes the Anti-Christ. Madame Walter’s agonising conflict to repent as she prays to the painting or to be continually entwined with Duroy is the struggle to maintain moral values or to succumb to a hedonistic life, a personal conflict which would ultimately destroy her. These contrasts are omnipresent in Bel-Ami. Madame Walter also met Duroy at church before she fell into sin with him — the last place you should start an adulterous relationship; the painting of Jesus in the Walter home is out of place — Walter bought the painting for financial reasons rather than because he likes the painting or for its religious content.
Reader beware
I can go on about Bel-Ami for days. There’s so much I want to write about the book: the power of language, when the words of the newspaper can distort, manipulate and determine the courses of nations; the role of France as a colonial power; the gulf between the wealthy and the poor; and everything about sex. This book is full of sex but who am I to complain? I contrast Bel-Ami with the book I finished before, Dickens’s Martin Chuzzlewit. It is a bad Dickens book as he writes pompously without saying much, while Maupassant wrote concisely with a lot of depth. But reader beware: this is a book that might break you, perhaps for better, perhaps not.
