In this marvelously original book, Dan Hofstadter shows how a great treasure of forgotten personal writing—diaries, memoirs, and letters written by George Sand, Anatole France, and Marcel Proust, among others—bears on the erotic lives of the writers, and how the fine French tradition of conducting love affairs developed as an art form. As his subtle analysis makes clear, the love letters exchanged in a series of highly charged liaisons also suggested the themes of celebrated future novels.
Dan Hofstadter’s last book was The Love Affair as a Work of Art, a study of French writers. Falling Palace, about daily life in contemporary Naples, was published in 2005.
Hofstadter offers a glimpse into the love lives of some complicated figures from history, mostly literary and political. The stories are well told and the references and quotations from contemporary sources are fascinating. I only wish it was more clear what of his book came from recently discovered sources--it could use more of a researcher's story.
Hofstadter, what a historian! If all cracks at history were this compelling (admitting that Hofstadter chose quite the salacious subject), we'd all be experts. From the beginning, Hofstader lurched into the roll of a high society critic - something I found frustrating, and at times would have called it demeaning. How could Hofstadter treat his subjects like the targets of a classy tabloid? Beautiful prose notwithstanding, his judgments seethed! He tore into the character of those he assessed, attributing psychological attributes where none seemed clear. But as you continue to read, his analysis begins to glitter... for one, it becomes more clear that many of the statements or interpretations of his subjects - epistolary writers (among other professions and authorial styles) - were either well-researched by other biographers or historians, or commented on by people who knew Hofstadter's subjects well. It's just plain that Hofstadter finds the enterprise delicious! And then, as you come to his chapter on Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve, you may wonders: has Hofstadter donned the mantel of Sainte-Beuve himself? Self-congratulatory critic that he was, Sainte-Beuve played the role of judge for his literary friends, and character assassin. Hofstadter, while not always so harsh (he favors later subjects, which leads the reader to consider whether those French writers simply were atrocious), is not a man to sugar-coat a person's flaws. A lovely, if at times challenging, read.
A year and a day ago I bought this on Isaiah's recommendation. The author covers a lot of material & references several volumes more. The result is a fascinating journey through the path of relationships & emotion, packed with detail & insight. As the columnists are writing these days "love is not a big screen romantic comedy" - Hofstadter offers another view. Not an easy read.