The Libertine

by Louis Aragon, Aragon

classic surrealist novel, tr Jo Levy

Genres: France

185 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1924

About the author

French writer Louis Aragon founded literary surrealism.

Louis Aragon, a major figure in the avant-garde movements, shaped visual culture in the 20th century. His long career as a poet, novelist, Communist polemicist and bona fide war hero secured his place in the pantheon of greats.

With André Breton and Phillipe Soupault, Aragon launched the movement and through Paysan de Paris (Paris Peasant), his novel of 1926, produced the considered defining text of the movement.

Aragon parted company with the movement in the early 1930s, devoted his energies to the Communist party, and went to produce a vast body that combined elements of the social avant-garde.

Aragon, a leading influence on the shaping of the novel in the early to mid-20th century, gave voice and images to the art. He, also a critic, edited as a member of the Académie Goncourt. After 1959, people frequent nominated him for the Nobel Prize.

Reviews

[B. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish the whole book was like the preface. That's the Aragon I know and love, the one who jumps from idea to idea, musing and reflecting on whatever comes to mind. It almost felt like it could have been an early surrealist precursor to Barthes's A Lover's Discourse: Fragments.

Instead, what follows is a series of short stories, each dedicated to a writer (Gide, Breton, Picabia, Desnos, Péret, Lautréamont et al., though no women), and each appearing to be a kind of pastiche of that writer's style whilst thematically being about love. Most of these stories were ok or mediocre. I only really thought the last one was good.

But this is the text where Aragon started finding their voice a bit more. It's the first to do away with story, at least in part, by showcasing Aragon's peripatetic thoughts. I was also hoping they'd do what Marcel Schwob did in The Book of Monelle by limiting the stories to the middle and returning to the abstractions toward the end, but alas. It ends up being mostly just a compilation of forgettable little love stories.

I want everything that comes into my head to stay there for such a short time that even I don't remember my own ideas. I want each intellectual step I take to be a stride forward and to leave no trace.

1.5-2 stars.

[Paul Cowdell · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's something poignant reading (re-reading, in this case) Aragon's early writings: they're always brilliant, always stimulating, even where they're maybe not quite fully realised. Sometimes this is because the avenues of exploration he's suggesting weren't necessarily followed up consistently at the time by the Surrealists collectively (as per Paris Peasant, say). This isn't my favourite of his writings of this period, but it's often like being with an explorer in an underground network: it's dizzying as his torch flashes tantalisingly down innumerable passages awaiting our investigation.

This sensation is lent poignancy, of course, by Aragon's subsequent betrayal of everything he stood for here. It's saddening to read how brilliantly the young Aragon dealt with what the older Aragon would be:

'In this world there are insensitive people animated by the sweet mania for compromise: compilers of anthologies, expert at leaving social and physical flaws well in the background. They can whitewash a wolf. But the wolf that obeys them turns into a sheep-dog. Cartouche joins the cops while the convict gangs sing out. Enough: I won't let this masquerade go on.'

[Jade Aslain · Rating 5 out of 5]

The editors saved the best for last. The first piece is a kind of manifesto type of writing, which is very good, but then the stories and dramas are ordered it seems from worst to best. The first few pieces therefore are somewhat of a disappointment --albeit short. But the rest of the collection in this book are fantastic!

[Aurélie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Écriture totalement aragonienne et parfois surréaliste. Certains chapitres sont incompréhensibles et illisibles, d'autres au contraire sont délicieux et répondent au titre. A lire, mais concentré et sans attentes. Pas le meilleur ouvrage d'Aragon

[Julie Seager]

Forgot how hard it is to read a book that makes no sense

[Eric · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lord knows I tried, but couldn't make it through this thin tome. I think most postmodern philosophy started out in just this way, as unreadably opaque, self-indulgent inside jokes. Out of respect to Aragon's earlier writings, I'll probably try again later.