You can read this as a warning to stay away from much younger lovers or as a reminder that our lovers are human beings, too, not only the providers of our pleasure.
For anyone who likes the early novels of Jean Rhys, this has the period appeal plus more lasting joy.
The connection to The Vagabond here seems primarily commercial. The narrative sweep of The Shackle is much smaller and, with the exception of the last few chapters, is more of a vignette along the lines of many of her short stories albeit expanded and expounded upon. There isn't any need for The Vagabond to have transpired before it. The cameo from Brague is a minor detail and the memories of Maxime hardly betray any believable character evolution between the books.
The Shackle is beautifully written and badly realized.
At times this read more like a Francoise Sagan than a Colette. Beautifully observed as ever but lack a little of the lightness of touch of the best of her work.
She resists that which she seeks, refuses that which is already written and despite asserting her independence finds herself falling for the man she had been trying to convince herself she had no feeling for.
I will be intrigued to read what Vivian Gornick has to say about reading this in the 60's in her new , which is the reason I picked up The Shackle to read. Well that and because I think Colette herself is such an intriguing character.
This novel is delicious (sensual pleasure) and merciless (games women and men who are sexually attracted play). From what other reviewers say, maybe I enjoy it so much because I have not read Vagabond. But that will be next.
To me, Renee is lost. There is no real resting place for her outside of sensual pleasure. I haven't read the Thurman bio for quite some time (wish I still had that), but I don't remember Colette being really content with anyone or anything that is completely hers. She's a hungry ghost sort of person, probably not a great friend but a person with an unsparing eye. The sensual detail of her writing, which is exceptional, is what redeems that. And she is one of the few writers who can describe beauty in a person, in this case her lover, without sounding trite or at all predictable. Women rarely do this, or maybe I need to read more French women writers (who?). Well, I just answered my own question by remembering Duras. But both of these women wrote so long ago . . .
As with a lot of her work, the plot is deceptively simple but holds a lot of insight into human feeling. It's a rather sad book, dealing with a stage where a woman is leaving youth behind, and becoming rootless.
The 'captor' of the book, Jean, is also leaving behind the irresponsibility of youth. He could have been written as just another tediously handsome twink, but Colette writes him subtly and with sympathy. Both characters have flaws which seem organic parts of their characters.
It looks like a rather silly romance novel from the blurb; don't let that put you off. It's more than the sum of its parts, with real believable feelings and a natural world that's just as important as the characters.
It feels far more deeply felt and vulnerable than her short stories. and also somewhat crueller. There is also a sense of action and involvement that isn't on her later recollections. It's quite claustrophobic at times, being a novel with only four characters at most.
I love all her work, but this one has a lot of her best ingredients in one place!
What I love most about this book is the beautiful prose. It's precise but poetic, and has odd-but-illuminating metaphors and comparisions that make everyday experiences fresh and new.
After retiring from the stage, 36 year old Renee finds herself a friendless 'old maid'. She is neither rich nor poor, ugly nor beautiful, just someone who is accustomed to picking up and moving to a new city and hotel with no one to meet her there. She falls in with a group in Nice that consists of a pretty young woman, the lover who beats her and his opium-addicted weirdo friend. When the young lover begins paying attention to Renee she tries to resist but he arouses the long-dormant need to belong.
Colette has a reputation for writing about sex, or sensuality, but her writing has just a normal tone for the modern reader. She doesn't focus on sex, at least in this book or the previous work I've read, but it isn't ignored either. Her characters aren't prim and awkward towards each other but instead expect sex and living together to be a part of a relationship. As this book was written 100 years ago and lacks a moral character, it must have drawn attention to the female author, but Colette's talent is in the emotional inner dialogue of Renee, who has been alone for so long.
The Shackle is the sequel to The Vagabond, and it follows Renee Nere as she struggles to reconcile her need for independence and self-sufficiency with the demands of a passionate love affair. Colette's writing is so deceptively, beautifully simple that she pulls you in before you've quite realized it. It is also beautifully on-point emotionally. I loved this one.
Circa 1900, naughty ladies and lace in a foofy hotel in Nice, difficult to read first person meanderings. Twenty pages in, a big question: Do I really care??? The answer, a resounding NO. And thus, abandoned, like Fifty Shades of Gray to which it is sometimes compared. Not interesting to me. Others may differ.
this had a lot of live up to, being the sequel to the vagabond, which is one of my very favorite colette books (yes, better than the claudine books), one i have a personal, not critic-eyeballing attachment to. and still given that, it was quite good.
Didn't enjoy this one much. My copy's title is translated as The Captive. I'm guessing it's the same book based on the synopsis. I didn't realize that it was a sequel, so perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if I had read the 1st one.
So this book follows The Vagabond by Colette -This time she falls for a man who belongs to someone else- she tries to distance herself from him but they meet again. as always a complex passionate tale of love and life i never tire of Colette-
This is probably my least favourite Colette novel, if only because it glories in the ruin of the proud vagabond she so painstakingly built in its predecessor.
The third of three books by Colette I have read in succession and the best of the three too. I had to reach the end of the book before I felt I was really drawn in, compelled to read by the interaction of the two main characters. Chapters 11 and 13 (the last few chapters) I found very touching, very poignant. Some quotes are as follows:
''I have often seen you with eyes that are suddenly empty; eyes paler and blanker than a vast stretch of sea without ships.''
''When I leave it, I shall go off to seek some other known setting, where the spire of a church, the silhouette of a mountain-not even as much as that; a noisy street, the welcoming face of a hotel proprietor who will call me by my name-will give me, for an hour, the illusion, not of arriving, but of coming home.''
''Once again I have consumed the night in contemplating you, you who were my pride, my succulent and unloved prey.''
And many more insightful gems into the workings and breakup of a relationship. It reminded me of Evelyn Waugh and his writing, the emphasis on dialogue, the unsaid in a conversation and how it tortures us, shows and can be captured in literature.
All in all, a great writer and a fantastic read. Much recommended.
I'm sure, once upon a time, this was a very exciting forthright sort of book to read. But now it doesn't read quite as free and cool as it probably once did. For me, I could not get over the fact that the love interest of this book hits his girlfriend. (We learn this very early on, so I don't think this spoils anything.) We never see him hit the protagonist but we know he hit his previous partner. And the protagonist knows he hit his previous partner and she maybe finds this charming?!?!? I can't. Like, every sentence of this book I was like, "Girl. No. He hit her. No. This isn't a fun journey on a boat with a charming man. That guy hits his girlfriend. Nope. Get off that boat." It was just not in the least bit sexy and I feel fairly certain it was supposed to be. For me? No. Nope. Ew. No. I mean, I suppose it is very old school French but... Get back on the stage, girl! Lounging around waiting for that mistress-beater is no kind of life!
Anyway - I did manage to read the whole thing when I was sure I was going to abandon it because the quality of the writing was somehow compelling but I nearly abandoned it many times.
a little excruciating, though I should read the book that precedes it, to get to know Renee a little better, for she's quite a desperate sadsack in this story. I know that's mostly the point - the melancholy, the feeling of being abandoned and directionless, but I just wished she'd kept on her own more instead of entering this fruitless affair that unfortunately is the dominant plot.
Ah, well.. easy breezy read, no harm done (except for a lingering melancholy (so French!) and a terrible feeling of regret and embarrassment for Renee. And a lesson learned to not fall for charmless men out of desperation, loneliness and fear of aging.
The descriptions are beautiful and the prose elegant, but this isn't exactly an enjoyable story. All of the characters are basically terrible people who seem to be pretty out of touch with reality. My reaction to the ending was just "...okay."