Well, what a way to prove that not much changed between 1813, when George Wickham first terrorised the Bennets, and 1885, when Georges Duroy plagued the ladies of Paris. The political intrigues and serial seductions of Guy de Maupassant’s Bel-Ami take a form similar to what I imagine might happen if John de Mol trained a raft of cameras on Paris’ veriest rascal. Duroy, who has very little talent but is blessed with a bounty of good looks and charm, sleeps his way to the top of his profession. His most potent weapon is his moustache, which seems to literally transfix women. Never mind that one of them, Madame Forestier, is clever in her own right and serves as the most important stepping stone in Duroy’s career. Never mind that one of them is married to one of the richest men in town. The ladies fall to pieces for the facial hair. There are plenty of meditations on the fine entity that is Duroy’s moustache. Bel-Ami also reproduces very nicely the effects of a moustache – it looks amazing, you can get stuck in it, it’s tickly, but at the end of the day you’re glad it’s happening to someone else and not you. Quite excellent.
June 12, 2008
Comments (2)
Subscribe to RSS
Posts
Comments
Site by Skiing
FoodieFi | 24th Jun 08 | 11:52 pm |
I love the first sentence of this review! And all the moustache comments – nicely done!
David Rochester | 5th Aug 08 | 1:47 am |
I greatly enjoyed this book, and your review of it. I am disappointed never to have had such stellar results from my own moustache, but it’s more David Niven-esque than Bel-Ami-esque, so perhaps if I were more flamboyant with it, I’d see some action.