Indefatigable, nothing like a limp rag but firing all pistons, she strode up and down in her red polka-dot jacket which left her thighs bare, paced feverishly, her words warmed by a sacred flame and strengthened too by the exultation of victory, while her spouse, stunned and left reeling by the power of her avenging eloquence, could only stand by and watch open-mouthed as his unsuspecting sins were clearly marshalled and paraded before him.

It has been lovely here in Beograd. It has been just as lovely reading this in Beograd. I followed Graham Greene's advice to take something to read on holiday which has nothing pertinent to the place or nature of the sojourn. It was GR friend Ilse who noted that my brain might find comfort in something French or Russian; I thank her for that clarity. While it is a thousand page novel it was hardly bulky and I have taken it along on buses, trams and my daily seven to ten mile walks. There was never a regret.

The story is literary, simply so. The capricious wife of a dunderhead diploma falls for the diplomat's superior. It is pure Wodehouse. Everything is rehearsed. Even the rules for seduction are outlined in advance. There is an interiority but it is all somehow outcome oriented. The monologues are often fleeting, scattered but the need to focus-and thus practice is never far from the task. The scenes focusing on the unfortunate cuckold are so human, I did gasp. Cohen outlines the attitudes of Europe in the 1930s as a tacit backdrop until the seducer gives vent to his rage. This is tantamount to the last volume of the Knausgaard. It is impossible to discuss this novel without thinking about Anti-Semitism. I want to also thank GR Friend Mimi for leading me to an article about Simon Schama's appreciation for the novel.

There are a plethora of voices in Cohen's palette and each one contributes to the tapestry. The emotional coloring is also deft. My reduction of a star was due to the fact that the novel chose verisimilitude and I wanted something a bit more nuanced and perhaps sinister. I am not sure what that suggests about me on holiday.

One of my favorite classical! A great story of love and passion (and destruction)

This book made me understand something important: I still have stories to discover and love and I might find them in novels.

As a history buff and a lover of developed character, I almost believed for a certain period that I will no longer be able to properly enjoy a novel unless it was a novel older than 60 years.

Belle du Seigneur proved me wrong: there is not a single character who is not interesting, not a single useless part, not a single poorly-written page. This book is extraordinarly rich even if the plot itself is pretty simple.

Either you love it or you hate it. I simply adore it.

le « a » (Adrien et Ariane) comme arrogance
le « s » (Solal) comme suffisance
tragique et toxique
simplement pas pour moi

I've just started it. hope it won't take me too long to finish it.

I liked this for a while, it was really fun for a while, then it got a bit too over the top!!!

«  La regardant dormir, il conjugua silencieusement le verbe faire l’amour, au passé, au présent et, hélas, au futur. »

A 974 page love affair, the first few hundred pages are the seduction, then a hundred or so pages in which the lovers revel in themselves and their beauty and their relationship. Then they run away together and the last five hundred pages record the descension of their relationship into boredom, isolation, and degradation. In order to keep their passion on edge and as exciting as the first night, the man -Solal- resorts to sick cruelty. She accepts it - and adds to the chaos itself. Does she make up the story of her affair to add excitement? The Jewish element seems to be floating in the text. The character struggles with the tide of anti-Semitism that is building up around him.
Although well-written, the story ahs some elements similar to a soap opera. It is possible to skim the love story for pages and still not miss much action. The strange thing is that there is some level of love between the characters yet they themselves destroy it and themselves. The best part of the book for me was the very drown out description of the husband, Deume, a perennial incompetent bureaucrat who spins most of his day spinning his wheels, procrastinating until the end of the day, an endless pencil sharpener. It is quite easy to comprehend and sympathize with this beautiful young wife for falling for someone else, yet it is impossible to avoid feelings of pity for him when he is dumped with no warming.

I probably enjoyed this one a bit more than three stars. I felt it was a bit long but Cohen really likes to torture the reader. This entire book has a slight sadomasochistic bent that is rather interesting.

Basically, every character in this book is an asshole and the reader is treated to an omniscient point of view that is very complete. I especially liked the part about a government servant who manages to spend an entire day at work without doing a single thing. Never has laziness been so thoroughly examined.