Earlier this week I finished reading this unusual and great little novel by Guy De Maupassant. It follows a casual yachting trip from the diary of the traveller.
The writing shifts constantly between societal critiques and gorgeous sensory descriptions of the voyage and travels of the character. There is a great deal of food for thought in Afloat, there are some universally fascinating insights as well as the building of a character who is mysterious and interesting. De Maupassant divulges very little personal information about his character, mostly you get to know the man through his opinions (which are sometimes equally agreeable and disagreeable) and the few facts that are given to the reader don't seem to be essential. It is a wonderful presentation.
Here is one of my favorite passages:
It's true that sometimes I feel such a horror of living that I long to die, so intensely do I suffer from the relentless monotony of every landscape, of people's faces and their thoughts. I find the mediocrity of the universe appalling, revolting, I'm disgusted by the paltriness of everything, overwhelmed by the utter worthlessness of the human race. And at other times, I take a delight in everything, like an animal. If my restless, tormented, hyperactive mind soars full of hope toward things that are beyond our grasp and having realized the futility of its efforts, falls back into utter contempt of everything, my body hurls itself like an animal into the intoxicating pleasures that life has to offer, I love the sky like a bird, forests like a prowling wolf, rocky crags like a leaping chamois, the long grass to roll in or gallop over like a horse, and clear water to swim in like a fish. Quivering inside me, I can feel all sorts of animal instincts, all the obscure desires of the lower species of creatures. I love the earth as they do and not like you men, I love it without admiring it or turning it into poetry. I don't feel uplifted, I just love it like a brute beast; it's a deep, despicable, holy love for everything that lives and grows, everything you can see, for it all brings peace to my mind while distracting my eyes and my heart, yes, everything: days, nights, rivers, seas, storms, forests, the dawn, the sight of women and their flesh.
This is interesting, partially because it is beautiful prose and I have to read this book, and partially because I've been thinking a lot lately about the sometimes tenuous differences between humans and animals. I just finished a book called /McTeague/ my Frank Norris that examines the brute forces within humans which drive them toward unthinkable acts. The protagonist of the book quite literally recedes into nature and becomes an animal himself, entirely subject to his surroundings as he fights for survival.
ReplyDeleteThat book presents a very bleak view of humanity. /Afloat/ seems to be much more positive about the possibilities of "all the obscure desires of the lower species of creatures." McTeague figures animal desire as relentlessly self-serving; Afloat figures animal desire as simple and holy, capable of comprehending the world in ways that humans can't understand.
Thanks.
I like the idea of that simple interaction and reliance on nature as being the purest or holiest way of experiencing it. Though I'm not sure I totally understand what it looks like. But I like the idea of interacting with nature rather than just worshiping it as some kind of ideal. Something about animals and nature demands practicality.
ReplyDeleteI like it when interesting people admit that they want to die sometimes.
ReplyDeleteMaupassant’s character says "I love [nature] without admiring it or turning it into poetry." I too often try to make sense of a walk through the woods though there's no sense that needs making: it just is.
ReplyDeleteDave said, "something about animals and nature demands practicality." There's something very calming to me about the way you put that.
I appreciate all of these thoughts, it's nice to know that this writing resonates with all of you as well.
ReplyDelete