Skip to main content

Madame Bovary, as interpreted differently

Side by side comparisons of Madame Bovary passages.

Chapter VIII: via Maude Marmur

"On the dark wood panels were large gilded frames with names written in black letters on their lower borders...Those that followed could barely be made out because the light from the lamps, directed on the green cloth of the billiard table, left the rest of the room in shadow. It turned the hanging canvases brown and highlighted only the cracks in the varnish; and from all the large gilt-edged black squares only some lighter part of the painting would emerge here and there--a pale forehead, two eyes staring at you, wigs unfurling over the powdered shoulders, red suits or perhaps the buckle of a garter at the top of a fleshy calf."

Chapter VIII, Via Geoffrey Wall

"On those dark-panelled walls, great gilded frames each displayed a black-lettered inscription...The rest of the sequence was scarcely visible, because the lamplight, directed down on to the green baize of the billiard-table, sent shadows floating about the room. Burnishing the canvases, the light scattered indelicate patterns, along the cracks in the varnish; and from each of those great dark rectangles edged with gold there appeared, here and there, a lighter section of painting, a pale brow, a pair of eyes gazing out at you, perukes curling over the powered-speckled shoulders of sculpt coats, or a garter-buckle above a shapely calf."

Chapter VIII: via Lydia Davis

"Along the dark woodwork of the wainscoting, large gilded frames bore, along their lower edges, names written in black letters...Then one could barely make out those that came after, because the light from the lamps directed down onto the green cloth of the billiards table,left the room floating in shadow. Burnishing the horizontal canvases, it broke over them in fine crests, following the cracks in the varnish; and from all those great black squares bordered in gold there would emerge, here and there, some lighter part of the paint, a pale forehead, a pair of eyes looking at you, wigs uncoiling over the powdery shoulders of red coats, or the buckle of a garter high up on a plump calf."

_______________________

Page 102, Marmur

"Emma, who had taken his arm, was leaning gently on this shoulder, looking at the solar disk gleaming whitely through the mist. Then she turned around. Charles was there, his cap pulled down over his eyebrows and his two thick lips quivering, which gave a rather stupid look to to his face; even his back, his placid back, was irritating to see, and she found the flatness of his personality written all over his coat."

Location 2250-Wall

"Emma, after giving him her arm, was leaning just against his shoulder, and she gazed at the disc of the sun radiating far and wide, through the haze, tits pale splendor; but she turned her head: there was charles. He had his cap pulled down to his eyebrows, and his thick lips were trembling, adding a touch of stupidity to his face; even his back, his tranquil back, was irritating to behold, and in the very look of his coat she found all the banality of the man."

Page 88, Davis

"Emma, who had given him her arm, was leaning lightly against his shoulder, and she was watching the far-off disk of the sun suffusing the mist with its dazzling pallor; but then she turned her head: there was Charles. He had his cap pulled down over his eyebrows, and his thick lips were quivering, which gave a stupid look to his face; even his back, his placid back, was irritating to look at, and she found displayed there, on his coat, all the man's dullness."

_____________________________________

Page 108, Marmur

"Emma grew thin, her cheeks paled, her face lengthened. With her black hair, large eyes, straight nose, birdlike walk, and her continued silence, she appeared now to be moving through life hardly touching it and to be wearing on her forehead the vague mark of some sublime predestination. She was so sad and so calm, at the same time so sweet and so reserved, that one felt a glacial charm when near her, as one shivers in churches under the scent of flowers blended with the cold of the marble tiles. Even the others felt the power of her personality."

Location 2359 - Wall

"Emma grew thinner, her cheeks turned pale, her face looked longer. With her black hair, her large eyes, her straight nose, her gliding step, always silent now, did it not seem as if she passed through life almost without touching it, bearing on her brow the pale mark of a sublime destiny? SHe was so sad and sol calm, so gentle and yet so shy, that by her side you felt under the spell of a frosty charm, just as you shiver in church at the scent of flowers mingling with the fell of the cold marble. Even other people were not safe from this seduction."

Page 93, Davis

"Emma grew thinner, her cheeks paler, her face longer. With her black bands of hair, her large eyes, her straight nose, her birdlike step, always remaining silent now, did she not seem to pass through life scarcely touching it and to bear on her forehead the faint imprint of some sublime predestination? She was so sad and so calm, at once so gentle and so reserved, that in her presence one felt captivated by an icy charm, the way one shivers in a church amid the fragrance of flowers mingling with the cold of the marble. Nor did others escape this seduction."

_
Page 108, Marmur

"But within she was full of envy, rage, and hatred. That dress with the straight folds hid a heart in turmoil, and those modest lips did not speak of her torment. She was in love with Leon and she longed for solitude in order to dream about him undisturbed. Even the sight of him troubled the voluptuousness of her meditation."

Location 2370 Wall

"But she was filled with lust, with rage, with hatred. That elegantly pleated dress concealed a heart in turmoil, and those lips so chaste told nothing of her torment. She was in love with Leon, and she sought solitude, the better to take her pleasure, undistracted, in images of him. The actual sight of him upset these voluptuous meditations."

Page 94, Davis

"But she was filled with desires, with rage, with hatred. That dress with its straight folds concealed a heart in turmoil, and those reticent lips said nothing about its torment. She was in love with Leon, and she wanted to be alone so as to delight more comfortably in his image. The sight of him in person disturbed the sensual pleasure of this meditation."

____________________________________________________

Page 111, Marmur

"It was the beginning of April, when the primroses are in bloom; a warm wind blows over the flower beds, and the gardens, like women, seem to be dressing for the summer holidays."

Location 2411, Wall

"It was early April, when the primroses are in flower; a warm breeze rolls over the newly turned flower-beds, and the gardens, just like women, seem to be making ready for the great days of summer."

Page 96, Davis

"It was the beginning of April, when the primroses are in bloom; a warm wind tumbles over the newly spaded flower beds, and the gardens, like women, seem to be grooming themselves for the festivities of summer."

*Location refers to the Kindle notation.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2010: January to June Favorite Reads

The best books I’ve read between January and June of 2010: Dandelion Wine , Ray Bradbury. First time I’ve read this an adult. It’s not quite cohesive as a novel, but wallops a double-dose of nostalgia: Bradbury’s for his childhood, and mine, for reconnecting with an old beloved book. Brooklyn , by Colm Toibin. Love this simple, rich story of a young woman’s maturation-through-immigration. Caution: there is one section that will make you cry buckets of salty, sad tears. I knew when I was in the middle of this tender novel that I wished it were three times as long. It's quiet and understated and elegant, this story of a young Irish woman who comes to America and finds her own strength and self. Reminiscent of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn , and an immersible world unto itself. Underworld by Don DeLillo. Epic monster of a story that seems to presuppose the horrors of the 2000s by looking at the less-but-still horrific 1950s through the 1990s.* True Grit by Charles Po...

2016 Reading Notes

My reading came to a screeching halt after the election and I've been having trouble resuming it since. But I did have a good reading year before that day. White Noise by Don DeLillo. First read in 1998, re-read in 2016. I remembered that White Noise is about supermarkets and Hitler studies. I remember loving it in 1998, but little else. What I rediscovered is that this novel is full of anxiety, dread, distrust of systems and data, environmental waste, precocious children, familial and romantic loves, and the repression of our fundamental fear of death. It's satirical but also mildly terrifying. I am happy to say that it's still a five-star read. I also read DeLillo's Zero K, which was fine but unexceptional and probably very close to the future as elites hoard all the money and try to preserve themselves past death, waiting out the demise of most of mankind. I was happy to discover three Louise Erdrich novels: Love Medicine; The Round House; and LaRose . Loved the...

Colwin, Mr. Parker, #3

Laurie Colwin "Mr. Parker" Published 1973 From the New Yorker Short Story Podcast, airdate 8/1/12 Read by Maile Meloy #3 Short Story Project, 300 in 2013 This is a coming-of-age story about a young girl who takes piano lessons from a teacher in the neighborhood. His wife dies, and that death marks a transformation in the girl, her relationship to her mother, and to her own understanding of what it means to perform well enough, through practice, to make real music. It's a simple story really, but the language used carefully describes the fading process that life deals out to older people. There's also a running theme of innocence vs. knowing. It's not funny, like Colwin's novel Happy All the Time, but in a small number of words, the reader is let in on the girl's inner life.