In language and tone, I find Andre Gide’s The Immoralist reminding me much of the work of J.M. Coetzee, specifically Disgrace. Both authors use a very pared. There is an oft-cited sentence in André Gide’s journal entry for March 28, , in which Rereading Gide’s The Immoralist () recently that is indeed how I. Gide, Andre: The Immoralist (new tr by Richard Howard).

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What a brute the. Its more personal triumph lies in the successful avoidance of lyricism, of confused or vide self-justification, of special pleading-of all the evasions, in fact, to which autobiographical fiction is tempted. After several days of drenching downpour, one morn- ing, suddenly, I woke in an atmosphere of brilliant blue.

Their frightful memory has no tongue. Not far from the shore and very near the sky, Ravello lies on an abrupt height gidr the flat and distant coast of Paestum. It was while I was taking a laborious walk up and dowir.

Andre married to please his parents and did not have sex with his wife. Discussing his pleasures in the same way as he describes “the awakening of the fields”, the smell of wet leaves and the joys of nature and health, he makes a compelling case for himself and his new philosophy. Some- one hurried to our help. The following days I went further; I saw other gardens, other goatherds and other goats. Michel is still capable of devotion. The danger had not been great; but I had had to show my strength, and that in order to protect her.

A land liberated from works of art. Quotes from The Immoralist. He told me the names of his goats, told me that the little canals are called ‘seghias’; they do not all run every day, he explained; the water, wisely and parsimoniously distributed, satisfies the thirst of the plants, and is then at once withdrawn.


This is the feel of this novel: I have worked hard to the end, done my duty with passion and dedication.

Don’t hide just for her to agree in marrying you.

The Immoralist by André Gide

There was some wild thyme growing near by; I picked some of the sweet-smelling leaves, crushed them in my hands and rubbed my wet but burn- ing body with them. It is sur- rounded by the low walls of a garden — or rather, an enclosure, in which there grow three stunted pomegranate-trees and a superb oleander. His want was the gifted Marc Allegret, then 15, with whom he started a long relationship in Immorallst air was almost sharp, but the sun was burning.

I’ve never felt that it is in any way important to like or admire the main character in a gise. And at first I merely felt rather painfully out of my ele- ment; but soon I became aware of a very different feeling. And perhaps that is the basis of all our morality, ethics, belief systems etc. Marceline was still asleep. So then, as is always the case when one overcomes immoralisf initial disgust, I ended by taking pleasure in my dissimulation itself, by protracting it, as if it afforded opportunity for the play of my undiscovered faculties.

At the touch of new sensations, certain portions of me awoke — certain sleeping faculties, which, from not immorlaist as yet been used, had kept all their mysterious fresh- ness. Most cruelly gied all he turns on his wife and watches her die while at the same time sucking in all of her beauty, loyalty and kindness to enforce his own life force.

It is, however, suggested by the female lover that he does prefer boys.

Reading group: A slap in the face from André Gide’s The Immoralist

Before, thought I, I did not understand I was alive. It was an old house which would easily have lodged a dozen per- sons; Marceline, three servants, and myself, who occasionally lent a helping hand, found it all we could do to animate a part of it Our old bailiff, who was called Bocage, had already done his best to prepare some of the rooms; the old furniture awoke from its twenty years’ slumber; everything had remained just as I remembered it — the panel- ing not too dilapidated, the rooms easy to live in.


I had planned for some time past to give the chief management of this land to Bocage, thinking that in this way I should be giving it indirectly to Charles; my intention also was to look after it a good deal myself; but in real- ity, I reflected very little about it; the very risk of the undertaking tempted me.

It struck an instant chill through me and I jumped out again quickly and flung myself down on the grass in the sun.

Full text of “The Immoralist”

His Life and Art, pp. My second Gide book and I quite enjoyed it.

What remains of them? Some kind of inexplicable curiosity made me watch his movements.

OW is not Mephistopheles. Menalque is a Nietzschian character, at first a vague acquaintance, but then a guiding influence on the direction of Michel’s life. I expected it eventually to give birth to actions that would astonish me — but later — later, I said to myself, when it is more fully formed. Can there be any atheist raised in a Christian country that does not understand this? I sweated mortally; I gasped for breath; at times I lost consciousness.

But he is not the one who ill-treats his wife, even after finding his new ways of joy. She told me some of their names; questions and answers passed, smiles, pouts, little jokes.