you're just made for love
So I finally finished Story Of O today. And the irony is that after nearly a month of chronically slow progress, I only finished it in less than an hour and a half.
Notes from my journal, written this morning, not yet finished the book: The second section was so densely packed with the most complex emotion which I read with such narrow intensity I didn't even realise when it ended and the third section began!
And she did that absolutely brilliant thing that's become such a familiar favourite trope of romance novels --- Sir Stephen dominates O's body through sex and the BDSM psychology of being the toppy sort of dom, brutal in his will. But the moment she realises he's in love with her is the moment she gains power over him. Classic genderplay, yay! Well, classic to me cos I've been seeing it in fiction since I was nine. It's so brilliant, I never expected to see that in this of all novels.
The lesbianism I still find slightly strange maybe but that's because it hasn't fully unfurled its story potential yet. At least, I'm sensing it hasn't yet. I still love how O is the aggressor in the lesbian relationship, that she even lusts with aggression after women compared to the way she trembles with lust for the men. It's a bit stereotypical, I know, but the symmetry appeals to me.
Jacqueline's creepy but then that makes me realise that none of these people are particularly likeable. Before that turnaround, Sir Stephen was positively demonic and I felt such anguish for what I perceived to be O's abandonment by Rene. I know O is not without her faults but I find her so fascinating that even when she's unnerving, I still feel a fierce interest and loyalty towards her. She's so real to me, so fabulously complex that she couldn't be anything but real. There's such a great blend of lust and submission in her that I can't help but adore her.
But then it's written with such skill and elegance and lush visual detail --- the photographs on the table in the sunlight, omg --- that of course I'd respond as deeply as I have.
I regret so much that I just dived right into the third section, that I didn't pause to examine exactly how it began. I know very clearly how the second section ended because it was so powerfully poignantly romantic. But damnit, I have no idea how the third section began because I thought I was still in the second section. By the time I realised it had gone for way too long and flipped back to discover I was already in the third section, it was too late! Urgh.
Heh. It was quite sweet to realise there are four sections to Story Of O just like there are four scenes to my latest fic. I totally didn't plan that, not consciously at all.
What I wrote this arvo, after finishing the book: Christ there was SO MUCH packed into the last bit of the third section and then in the final fourth section, most of it --- if not all --- quite troubling and quite confrontational. The curious thing is she withholds consent from us, the knowledge and confirmation of O's consent to the escalating physical brutality. Every time I quailed and wanted O to say "yes! do this to me," she was silent and that worried me.
But then oh man. As soon as I had sadly resigned myself to O's silence, there was that marvellous twist of Eric and O's fabulous eloquent moment of laughing assertion and oh christ, all my love and admiration for her rushed right back, fiercer and more exultant than ever. Marvelous timing! Although then I wonder if it was just me ... no, surely not.
I knew Jacqueline was a bitch! The conflict between the women in that final section swerved a little too close to soap operatic cat fighting but it was still a very intriguing contrast to the men's relationships and the way O responds to each man. And oh fuck, what an amazing emotional journey, from Rene to Sir Stephen, so wonderfully subtle and so fabulously controllled, this steady organic evolution of feeling and commitment. I loved loved that, both as a reader and a writer, fully understanding how it happened even though I have no desire to lay out those steps, to analyse and unpick what right now is this tender vivid mystery before me.
The inclusion of Nathalie was very alarming, quite disturbing but christ was I fascinated to see how delicately poised she was in the narrative, poised between childhood and adulthood, poised quite literally between spectatorship and participation. And it's kinda awful that O will never love her as she loves Sir Stephen, as she loves men, because when he leaves her, she could be fully with Nathalie.
Because it's made clear with this glorious relief and delight that Nathalie, unlike that cold bitch Jacqueline, is instantly of their kind, a fierce passionate heart, unafraid to love. *sighs happily*
But quite honestly? The ending kinda failed. The first one, I mean. Intellectually, I got it. I saw that's exactly where this story was going, its natural conclusion. They said it right from the beginning. But emotionally, it lacked all the triumph and ecstasy it could have had, all the gorgeousness I wanted. I wanted her to exult in her role, in this amazing theatrical entrance into a whole new world, a whole new chapter in her life, a whole new reign for her. I wanted to exult for her.
But the frozen timidity of her robbed me of that. The imagery was fine, the costuming and setting. It was fine that she was silent, it was fine that she was taken and touched and used. That's the point of her love for him. But the language could have been so much stronger, the inner illustration of her in those final moments. It could have been lush, involved, passionate, triumphant, orgasmic.
The fact that it wasn't left me to contemplate this book in intellectual terms, not emotional, and that seems quite a cold and mean thing to do to me after enmeshing me in such emotional intimacy with this woman.
And maybe it's cos because I read of that alternate ending on Amazon before I actually got to it that it really didn't shock me at all. If anything, it made perfect sense, gave the whole novel a magnificent mythical cohesion.
Do I believe it? No. Because I know Anne Desclos died in 1998. Perhaps if I didn't know about her and her life before getting to that point, the alternate ending might have shocked and terrified me. But it merely sealed the intellectual point of the book, the emotional skewer that in this world, love is everything. Every. Thing.
I do love the language so much. Sure, I can hear people complain that the sentences are ludicrously messy, way too long, far too comma-laden. Dialogue that should be set out line by line is crammed up into paragraphs that sometimes go for the whole page, quotation marks against quotation marks. Time shifts happen within the same paragraph. And there was at least once that a phrase made absolutely no sense to me, even though I read it about five times, turning it every which way to fit into my brain. Never managed it.
Still I found all of this charming. It reminded me that this particular novel comes from an era of history I absolutely adore with its fashions and music and movies. And I loved all these quirks that required adjustment on my part.
Mind you, I did notice the word 'womb' pretty much disappeared from the third section onward. Instead we had the euphemism of 'belly' and 'behind', the first of which always puzzled me cos I kept thinking "Wait, he wants to fuck your navel? Oh no, wait, sorry, I get it, my bad." *lol*
And ah I was so delighted to read in the Wiki entry that Anne Desclos wrote in both English and French. Because I knew this was in no way a translation! Sure, the cadence of another language crept pleasingly in and I loved the significance ascribed to 'tu' and 'vous' just like it is in Hindi with 'tum' and 'aap'. But the fluency and deftness was too assured, too authentic to be a translator, however invisible you might think their name on the front may be!
Jean Paulhan's essay was just too delightful. If anything, I enjoyed that far more than the ending of the novel, especially knowing their relationship, knowing that it was to prove an awesome valid point to him that she wrote this novel. Exactly what I would do, yay! So his essay was just cheeky and wonderful and happy-making. And try as I did to keep a wary eye out for 1950s sexism, oh no. He was just far too clever and too perceptive and too passionate about matters of the heart to fail on that score.
Now I kinda want to read his stuff. And don't think I haven't noticed the similarity between his surname and the first name of Anne's nom de plume for this particular novel. Hee! I wonder what Reage means ... Ooh, interesting article on pseudonyms.
But, yes, I've read enough online to stay very far away from the sequel. And the movie. No way could any movie ever properly illustrate the depth and intimacy and truth of this novel. It's too inner and far far far too marvellous.
But yay, I'm so glad to finally be released of this book. It was such an intense thought-provoking emotional read and here's another paperback distorted with so many dogeared pages to add to the growing stack. I loved it but my god, I'm so relieved that I can finally go on to lighter and safer and more cerebral stories.
Like Frankenstein. *lol*
And okay, I totally did not plan for this song to come on now. Ha!
Notes from my journal, written this morning, not yet finished the book: The second section was so densely packed with the most complex emotion which I read with such narrow intensity I didn't even realise when it ended and the third section began!
And she did that absolutely brilliant thing that's become such a familiar favourite trope of romance novels --- Sir Stephen dominates O's body through sex and the BDSM psychology of being the toppy sort of dom, brutal in his will. But the moment she realises he's in love with her is the moment she gains power over him. Classic genderplay, yay! Well, classic to me cos I've been seeing it in fiction since I was nine. It's so brilliant, I never expected to see that in this of all novels.
The lesbianism I still find slightly strange maybe but that's because it hasn't fully unfurled its story potential yet. At least, I'm sensing it hasn't yet. I still love how O is the aggressor in the lesbian relationship, that she even lusts with aggression after women compared to the way she trembles with lust for the men. It's a bit stereotypical, I know, but the symmetry appeals to me.
Jacqueline's creepy but then that makes me realise that none of these people are particularly likeable. Before that turnaround, Sir Stephen was positively demonic and I felt such anguish for what I perceived to be O's abandonment by Rene. I know O is not without her faults but I find her so fascinating that even when she's unnerving, I still feel a fierce interest and loyalty towards her. She's so real to me, so fabulously complex that she couldn't be anything but real. There's such a great blend of lust and submission in her that I can't help but adore her.
But then it's written with such skill and elegance and lush visual detail --- the photographs on the table in the sunlight, omg --- that of course I'd respond as deeply as I have.
I regret so much that I just dived right into the third section, that I didn't pause to examine exactly how it began. I know very clearly how the second section ended because it was so powerfully poignantly romantic. But damnit, I have no idea how the third section began because I thought I was still in the second section. By the time I realised it had gone for way too long and flipped back to discover I was already in the third section, it was too late! Urgh.
Heh. It was quite sweet to realise there are four sections to Story Of O just like there are four scenes to my latest fic. I totally didn't plan that, not consciously at all.
What I wrote this arvo, after finishing the book: Christ there was SO MUCH packed into the last bit of the third section and then in the final fourth section, most of it --- if not all --- quite troubling and quite confrontational. The curious thing is she withholds consent from us, the knowledge and confirmation of O's consent to the escalating physical brutality. Every time I quailed and wanted O to say "yes! do this to me," she was silent and that worried me.
But then oh man. As soon as I had sadly resigned myself to O's silence, there was that marvellous twist of Eric and O's fabulous eloquent moment of laughing assertion and oh christ, all my love and admiration for her rushed right back, fiercer and more exultant than ever. Marvelous timing! Although then I wonder if it was just me ... no, surely not.
I knew Jacqueline was a bitch! The conflict between the women in that final section swerved a little too close to soap operatic cat fighting but it was still a very intriguing contrast to the men's relationships and the way O responds to each man. And oh fuck, what an amazing emotional journey, from Rene to Sir Stephen, so wonderfully subtle and so fabulously controllled, this steady organic evolution of feeling and commitment. I loved loved that, both as a reader and a writer, fully understanding how it happened even though I have no desire to lay out those steps, to analyse and unpick what right now is this tender vivid mystery before me.
The inclusion of Nathalie was very alarming, quite disturbing but christ was I fascinated to see how delicately poised she was in the narrative, poised between childhood and adulthood, poised quite literally between spectatorship and participation. And it's kinda awful that O will never love her as she loves Sir Stephen, as she loves men, because when he leaves her, she could be fully with Nathalie.
Because it's made clear with this glorious relief and delight that Nathalie, unlike that cold bitch Jacqueline, is instantly of their kind, a fierce passionate heart, unafraid to love. *sighs happily*
But quite honestly? The ending kinda failed. The first one, I mean. Intellectually, I got it. I saw that's exactly where this story was going, its natural conclusion. They said it right from the beginning. But emotionally, it lacked all the triumph and ecstasy it could have had, all the gorgeousness I wanted. I wanted her to exult in her role, in this amazing theatrical entrance into a whole new world, a whole new chapter in her life, a whole new reign for her. I wanted to exult for her.
But the frozen timidity of her robbed me of that. The imagery was fine, the costuming and setting. It was fine that she was silent, it was fine that she was taken and touched and used. That's the point of her love for him. But the language could have been so much stronger, the inner illustration of her in those final moments. It could have been lush, involved, passionate, triumphant, orgasmic.
The fact that it wasn't left me to contemplate this book in intellectual terms, not emotional, and that seems quite a cold and mean thing to do to me after enmeshing me in such emotional intimacy with this woman.
And maybe it's cos because I read of that alternate ending on Amazon before I actually got to it that it really didn't shock me at all. If anything, it made perfect sense, gave the whole novel a magnificent mythical cohesion.
Do I believe it? No. Because I know Anne Desclos died in 1998. Perhaps if I didn't know about her and her life before getting to that point, the alternate ending might have shocked and terrified me. But it merely sealed the intellectual point of the book, the emotional skewer that in this world, love is everything. Every. Thing.
I do love the language so much. Sure, I can hear people complain that the sentences are ludicrously messy, way too long, far too comma-laden. Dialogue that should be set out line by line is crammed up into paragraphs that sometimes go for the whole page, quotation marks against quotation marks. Time shifts happen within the same paragraph. And there was at least once that a phrase made absolutely no sense to me, even though I read it about five times, turning it every which way to fit into my brain. Never managed it.
Still I found all of this charming. It reminded me that this particular novel comes from an era of history I absolutely adore with its fashions and music and movies. And I loved all these quirks that required adjustment on my part.
Mind you, I did notice the word 'womb' pretty much disappeared from the third section onward. Instead we had the euphemism of 'belly' and 'behind', the first of which always puzzled me cos I kept thinking "Wait, he wants to fuck your navel? Oh no, wait, sorry, I get it, my bad." *lol*
And ah I was so delighted to read in the Wiki entry that Anne Desclos wrote in both English and French. Because I knew this was in no way a translation! Sure, the cadence of another language crept pleasingly in and I loved the significance ascribed to 'tu' and 'vous' just like it is in Hindi with 'tum' and 'aap'. But the fluency and deftness was too assured, too authentic to be a translator, however invisible you might think their name on the front may be!
Jean Paulhan's essay was just too delightful. If anything, I enjoyed that far more than the ending of the novel, especially knowing their relationship, knowing that it was to prove an awesome valid point to him that she wrote this novel. Exactly what I would do, yay! So his essay was just cheeky and wonderful and happy-making. And try as I did to keep a wary eye out for 1950s sexism, oh no. He was just far too clever and too perceptive and too passionate about matters of the heart to fail on that score.
Now I kinda want to read his stuff. And don't think I haven't noticed the similarity between his surname and the first name of Anne's nom de plume for this particular novel. Hee! I wonder what Reage means ... Ooh, interesting article on pseudonyms.
But, yes, I've read enough online to stay very far away from the sequel. And the movie. No way could any movie ever properly illustrate the depth and intimacy and truth of this novel. It's too inner and far far far too marvellous.
But yay, I'm so glad to finally be released of this book. It was such an intense thought-provoking emotional read and here's another paperback distorted with so many dogeared pages to add to the growing stack. I loved it but my god, I'm so relieved that I can finally go on to lighter and safer and more cerebral stories.
Like Frankenstein. *lol*
And okay, I totally did not plan for this song to come on now. Ha!