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And we've come to the end of our journey with Bel-Ami. By the end of the book, I think he was definitely a rogue and a scoundrel. Not that I didn't think that before. It just became extremely apparent the amount of manipulation used to get to the end he desired.

The only time there ever appears to be any real feeling is the feelings he has for his parents. Other than that, he uses feelings to fit his goals without caring what the outcome is for those around him.

It is summed up very well in Chapter 10: "It's fools and innocents who are always taken in." Duroy is neither of those things, but has no restraint in using people to his advantage.

No questions this week either, as I am sure that most of you have strong impressions by this point.

For those that have finished this book. Was anybody disappointed in the ending? I will not give it away, but I thought sure Mme Walter was going to make a scene or prevent certain events from happening.

I think we can assume that spoilers are now fair game - is that right Deborah?

But... SPOILERS AHEAD, just in case.

I also had a feeling that something horribly tragic was going to happen towards the end. And, in a way, it does: the spoilt, childish brat gets his way in absolutely everything.

It's not a Dickensian "all-tied-up" ending. Throughout the story, individual victories are hollow and the victors are mostly undeserving. I was actually quite pleased that Maupassant chose the ending he did. It definitely had the feel of a short story ending, which leaves echoes and vague resonances, rather than an epic novel cymbal crash.

Somebody mentioned Les Liaisons Dangereuses earlier in our discussion, and I felt there were many parallels to be drawn in Bel-Ami. Not so much character-for-character, but rather in the themes: sexual politics (and political sex), the hypocrisy of society; the seduction, conquest and devastation of a noble, older "virgin", for example.

Deborah wrote: "And we've come to the end of our journey with Bel-Ami. By the end of the book, I think he was definitely a rogue and a scoundrel. "

Yes, definitely a nasty piece of work. And the more he gets what he wants, the more he feels entitled to.
Did you notice how he referred to his family towards the end? Even they get the sharp end of his ungrateful, spiteful thought processes. I'll need to hunt out the quote.

Cindy wrote: "For those that have finished this book. Was anybody disappointed in the ending? I will not give it away, but I thought sure Mme Walter was going to make a scene or prevent certain events from happ..."

Pip is correct. The entire book is fair game.

Pip wrote: "Deborah wrote: "And we've come to the end of our journey with Bel-Ami. By the end of the book, I think he was definitely a rogue and a scoundrel. "

Yes, definitely a nasty piece of work. And the ..."

Duroy was a creep. I never felt he was insecure as some did. I just felt he wanted everything for free. I was dismayed that he could beat Clo, and then she would be willing to go back to their relationship.

He definitely didn't show any redeeming qualities at the end. He stayed in true character. Even worse, it seemed he was more admired at the end by others. They didn't like him, but they also thought he would go far because of his ruthless attitude. I feel like I saw the movie a long time ago, but don't remember much. I will be curious to see it now after reading the book.

I have to admit I didn't like the ending-I don't like it when the sociopaths "win", particularly at the expense of so many who love them. And Duroy was certainly a sociopath with his complete lack of empathy and concern. I was particularly disappointed in his treatment of his wife-I felt that they made a good working couple and seemed, at least at the beginning, to suit each other. I had assumed they would simply both turn a blind eye to each other's infidelities. I also thought she might stop his rise to power with her new magazine. There will clearly be no happy outcome for Suzanne, and she won't have her mother to help pick up the pieces when it all falls apart.

I was also disappointed that Mme Marelle went back to him in the end-I had also thought that he might have beaten her badly enough to suffer consequences-charges or at the very least social consequences. I wondered if this was Maupassant demonstrating his worsening behaviour-going from seducing those he admired, to seducing to be unkind and exploitative, to harming those he had loved (his wife and Mme Marelle) as a demonstration of the corrupting effect of wealth and power.

(A tiny part of my dislike, I will admit, stems from Duroy's/Maupassant's horribly insulting description of middle-aged women in love when describing Mme Walter once she has been seduced-for someone older than the character in question, that one hurt!)

Was the woman who entered the church with Georges his mother? I found it hard to believe that he would invite her, given he is trying to pass himself off as aristocracy.

A very different read from the Dickens/Gaskell novels of social improvement and harsh commentary on wrongdoers-is there an English or American equivalent from the period of someone celebrating the rise and success of the worse-than-scoundrel?

I don't think Maupassant was celebrating the life he described, he was just being realistic and exposing it (and the Paris Belle Epoque) warts and all. In doing so he exposed his own failings and showed what befalls people who live such lives. That is the social commentary. Like Duroy he had successes but he died a syphilitic madman. He contracted syphilis from a prostitute at the age of 20 and suffered its ravages all of his life, dying at the young age of 43 after several suicide attempts.

BTW the immorality of the novel disturbed the English into changing the title but the French were more upset by the exposure of corruption at the heart of the newly emerging newspaper industry.

Frances wrote: "I have to admit I didn't like the ending-I don't like it when the sociopaths "win", particularly at the expense of so many who love them. And Duroy was certainly a sociopath with his complete lack ..."

France's you have eloquently described my problems with the book. Why was there never any repercussions? I agree that he was showing the reality of the time, but wouldn't there have been some repercussions for owing so many people, beating a woman, divorcing?

But isn't that the point of the novel? That there are no repercussions? Would everyone have been happier with an epilogue in which Duroy dies of syphilis in agony in a garret and is thrown into a paupers' grave? (Thanks Madge, by the way, for the biographical info).
If repercussions were a feature of everyday life, we wouldn't have the politicians we are still forced to vote for.

Re: Madge's point about the corruption in newspaper industry and politics in general.

This is something we haven't discussed and it is a very prominent theme. Another case of "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose" (Trans: "The more things change, the more they stay the same")?

Yes, I wondered if it wasn't discussed because people take it for granted whereas sexual immorality still shocks them? A christian heritage perhaps.

As well as realism, I see satire in the way the novel ends because this is exactly what happens, then and now. Are the celebrities, bankers and newspaper proprieters around us paying for their profligate, unethical lifestyles? Maupassant was telling it like it was, and is. A 'moral' ending would be unrealistic and would make the novel more of a romance. Given all that has gone before and what we know of Duroy, the marriage to Suzanne is not a happy ending, it presages tragedy.

So what does everybody think of the corruption?

Pip wrote: "But isn't that the point of the novel? That there are no repercussions? Would everyone have been happier with an epilogue in which Duroy dies of syphilis in agony in a garret and is thrown into a p..."

I'm struggling with this. Wouldn't there be some consequence from beating Clo? She goes home, and her husband doesn't say what happened to you? He doesn't want revenge on Duroy? Yet Duroy has a duel for a perceived slight at the paper earlier in the book? Was life like that?

I must admit to not knowing much about France in this time period. I know women had few to no rights. I just can't help thinking her husband wouldn't put up with the insult of somebody beating his wife.

I think I must have missed something - where does Duroy beat Clo? She whacks him one at one point, but I can't find a reference to the other way round.
But either way - unreported and unpunished domestic violence is still rife in all of our countries, so I think it very unlikely that a woman in the 19th century, beaten by a lover, would have gone home to her husband and let on where the bruises came from. The least she could expect would be an additional beating, but this time a "legal" one.
As for the duel - wasn't that more about a professional slur than a private one?

The beating takes place in Chapter 10. My translation, Penguine edition, says he hits her like he would hit a man, and says she's laying on the floor.

Gosh, yes, I don't know how I missed that. In my edition it's in chapter XVIII.

I think you are right, Pip, that she wou,d have gotten a legal beating at home. But I also think the husband would have done something to Duroy for damaging his property.

Deborah wrote: "I'm struggling with this. Wouldn't there be some consequence from beating Clo? She goes home, and her husband doesn't say what happened to you? He doesn't want revenge on Duroy? Yet Duroy has a duel for a perceived slight at the paper earlier in the book? Was life like that?
"

But wasn't Duroy already too famous? Because after he brought the minister down with just 3 articles in the newspaper, lots of people would be anxious to end up the same way. So maybe her man was anxious about doing something about Duroy beating his wife. We also saw that Duroy already has a certain influence over the police as well. So maybe the risk would be too high for her husband to step up for his wife.

MadgeUK wrote: "BTW the immorality of the novel disturbed the English into changing the title but the French were more upset by the exposure of corruption at the heart of the newly emerging newspaper industry.
"

It would depend on what immorality you are referring to-the sexual infidelities and affairs would, I assume, have been shocking to read of in the 19th century, but are relatively tame by today's standards. However I am still distressed by the immorality of Duroy's flagrant dishonesty, disloyalty to his friends and lovers, corruption, and duplicity. I would have considered him a scoundrel in the first half of the book, by the ending his has become something much worse.

Frances, I think the "sexual infidelities and affairs" were more acceptable - almost required - then than they are today. Today we like our politicians squeaky clean.
And yes - while Duroy is dishonest, disloyal, corrupt, duplicitous and the rest - who in the novel isn't? He's a product of the time and of the society in which he strives to ascend.

Frances wrote: "MadgeUK wrote: "BTW the immorality of the novel disturbed the English into changing the title but the French were more upset by the exposure of corruption at the heart of the newly emerging newspap..."

France's I agree. I really did not enjoy this book because of this, and the fact that there were few if any redeeming qualities in any of the characters.

Phew! I'm so glad to read your comments here. I spent the first third of the book telling myself, "different times, different culture, everyone involved knows what they're getting into..." Then the middle, thinking "I don't like this guy and I can't find him a charming rascal, cuz he's not." And by the end despising him as a manipulative, selfish, cruel, sociopath.

My heart does not want to believe that GdM was just exposing the "realities" of life. Perhaps, this is true for some circles, but that's not all there is. People are also amazingly loyal and generous and kind

Renee wrote: "Phew! I'm so glad to read your comments here. I spent the first third of the book telling myself, "different times, different culture, everyone involved knows what they're getting into..." Then the..."

Renee, I think corruption exists. I'm just not convinced every single person in a society is corrupt.

I completely agree. The statement that "power corrupts" has been proven over and over.

But, in Bel Ami, I found no characters here who were heroic or even trying to be. Therefore, it seemed to ignore that aspect of life. Maybe heroic is too strong a word. I mean everyone just seemed to be bent on surviving or gaining status, but not on being or making of themselves anything good or honorable. I found it to be a very bleak vision and a bleak novel.

#22: The French still do not expect men, especially leaders to be squeaky clean though I expect standards are different for women despite this article suggesting otherwise:



I found that the novel lived up to its genre of 'realism' in portraying life among the movers and shakers of Belle Epoque Paris as it really was and I was struck by how similar it was to life today with its scandals about celebrities, politicians and financiers. Maupassant could write the same novel now citing, say, a film star and set it among the high flyers in New York or London. Indeed the British tabloid press write mini novels daily about such 'goings on'.

One difference is that the 'sexual revolution' and increased affluence has made it easier for all classes, and women, to have a 'slice of the action'.

I watched the film of The Wolf of Wall Street last night and you're right Madge-it left me feeling exactly the way I felt after reading Bel-Ami.

Did Maupassant write this as an exposé?

He had to make changes before publication because it was thought several of the characters would be recognissble to the public so it seems rather like an exposè

Just a reminder that the poll for our April read closes today-it's currently at a tie so please consider voting if you're planning to join the read.

Pip wrote: "It's not a Dickensian "all-tied-up" ending. Throughout the story, individual victories are hollow and the victors are mostly undeserving. I was actually quite pleased that Maupassant chose the ending he did. It definitely had the feel of a short story ending, which leaves echoes and vague resonances, rather than an epic novel cymbal crash."

One of the things of which I did like about the ending, opposed to perhaps a neater, everyone gets what they truly deserve type ending is the fact that this ending is far more realistic.

It is a fact of life that sometimes indeed the seemingly undeserving people are the ones that come out on top. And well much like some of the other characterless in the book state, though I might not approve of everything De Roy does, and he does get progressively more unlikeable there is a part of me that admires his tenacity. He won't be stopped in getting what he wants.

On the other hand even though it does seem like he is getting everything he wants now, knowing his history, how long will it last before he starts making himself miserable again?

He might climb the social ladder and have all the women he wants, but it still seems as if he can never truly be happy or satisfied.

Also I did enjoy that little bit about Madeline and the other newspaper with the articles that resemble the Forestier/Du Roy writings. Much like Du Roy she herself is quite the survivor and will always find a way to rise herself back up.

Deborah wrote: "Frances wrote: "I have to admit I didn't like the ending-I don't like it when the sociopaths "win", particularly at the expense of so many who love them. And Duroy was certainly a sociopath with hi..."

In regard to no repercussions for the beating of Clo, in part I think that stems from the fact that Clo herself is hardly likely to tell the truth about her beating. She isn't going to risk her own reputation and tell people that Du Roy beat her, and thus possibly expose her affair.

There is no one else who would know what happened to Clo besides her and Du Roy, what story she might have told her husband to explain the bruises, who knows.

And considering she is still attracted to him, she would want to protect him as well by not revealing that it was he who had done it.

Silver wrote: "Pip wrote: "It's not a Dickensian "all-tied-up" ending. Throughout the story, individual victories are hollow and the victors are mostly undeserving. I was actually quite pleased that Maupassant ch..."

I agree; while it is satisfying to read a book with a perfect Austenite ending, it is also dissatisfying on another level. Finishing this novel felt like finishing Jackson's short story "The Lottery"... at first it repelled me completely, then it began to occupy my thoughts, and soon I was ready to consider it a masterpiece. In fact, if the novel had ended with Duroy ruined, the work would probably have felt weak.
It isn't only about realism (and of course, since when do the meek get what they want outside of Mansfield Park and Wives and Daughters?) but also about leaving a message: Parisian ennui-ridden society was not a place where deserving things were of value, so why should the reader get the wrong impression? Why not illustrate the consequences of a purposeless, frivolous lifestyle? I also believe that Duroy at the end of the book, though outwardly happy, is not necessarily better off at heart. Probably his happiest moment was when he was neither rich and famous, nor poor and a nonentity (around the time of his first marriage). When he is being prevented from marrying a second time, however, he becomes excessively mentally and emotionally distracted (I can't come up with a word that will truly express what I mean, so that will have to do!) as a result of following his ambition blindly. This phase of literal insanity (for I will go as far as calling it that) reflects how Duroy is sinking down in true despair, even while he is rising outwardly. The marriage scene is ironic; it does not have a "happily ever after" feel to it, but a tinge of true degradation. Yes, Duroy is happy--I should say, rather, excited, which isn't the same--by his future prospects, but this future probably holds little in store for him in terms of mental/emotional peace.
On a different topic...
Duroy is a rascal, scandal, ruffian, bandit, etc., etc., etc. and I admit to it all wholeheartedly. However, I will still stick to my original impression that his egotistic and dehumanising characteristics originated in his sense of inferiority. Everytime he advances a step further, his vanity increases, yet he is still so insecure (on a strange measure) that he must make it to the absolute top, receiving universal admiration. I am not trying to defend his character or actions, but I do believe that attempting to explore a character's REASON for being evil, is far more interesting and deeper than simply declaring him/her a degraded villain. Afterall, it is a little narrow-minded to just look at characters and lay blame on them for being on an extremity of demoralization, when we all, to some extent have similar character traits. (I am preparing to take blows, and therefore I must clarify that I don't think humanity is hopeless, but I don't think either that it is close to what it could be. Duroy reflects one example of extremity, but that doesn't mean that we cannot all find some similar ideas--though not carried out--clouding our hearts). Just some thoughts... (and sorry for not being eloquent, I am rather in a hurry to get this done!)

Clara, I think you were eloquent. I don't see any inferiority in Duroy, I do see greed where no matter what he has he wants more. And yes, it repels me. For me, this work is not a masterpiece, but I'm a firm believer that not ever book nor author is for every reader. I'm ok with it not being a masterpiece for me, but being a masterpiece for others.

I do think this author accomplished something grand in that he got you thinking, reconsidering, and really thinking about the material and your reaction to it. That, to me, is a sign of success.

I agree, the aim of the book was achieved and it has certainly stayed in my thoughts for a long time afterwards. I still feel very differently about Duroy-I never felt he had an inferiority complex-it seemed to me that from the beginning he believed he deserved to have what the others around him had and that he was prepared to sacrifice and to use anyone to get to that end. He starts by quite happily using his friend Forrestier to get an entree into society and was quite willing to take advantage of his wife's skill at writing (with absolutely no guilt at letting someone else write his article, and no conception that his own next article was vastly inferior). He then moved from person to person, taking advantage and feeling quite justified in doing so as his own advancement was the only important thing to him. I've labelled him a sociopath exactly because I see no conscience or empathy for those around him, he simply becomes more confident and blatant in his use of those around him. By the time he seduces Mme Walter, he doesn't even bother to convince himself that he fancies her, and he is laughing at her gullibility and naivet´e. I also felt that he was quite happy and satisfied with his success at the end, and looking forward to more exploits now that he has resumed relations with his mistress-during his marriage ceremony, no less.

I think that part of Maupassant's point or criticism is that this was a society (not unlike ours today) in which the ruthless, the self-serving, the amoral could not only survive but thrive, and that they were particularly suited to reaching the top in this social milieu.

Frances, your view point in the above post is what I saw too.

Oh, and this is on a different topic that occurred to me while I was reading but that I had forgotten to comment on. I find the scene where Duroy brutally beats Clo ironic, because Duroy is speechlessly enraged by the fact that he is being accused of something he didn't do--but was fully capable of doing. He is mortified because for once, when he has been virtuous, he will--quite obviously--not be believed. This part of the novel strongly reminded me of Maupassant's short story "A Piece of String", in which a peasant is accused of a theft he could have, based on precedents, committed (and even bragged about)--but hadn't. The unfortunate man becomes so desperate at not being able to convince whomever he meets of his innocence, that he ends by wasting himself to death, pleading innocence in his last breath. I wonder if Maupassant ever suffered under a similar circumstance?

Good question, Clara. Maupassant was already suffering from syphilis when he wrote this work. Not sure, but perhaps it would create a paranoia where he felt he was being accused of things he hadn't done.

Someone here remarked that Bel-Ami felt like a long short-story. I had the same impression, but I cannot just now say why. The reason is certainly not a lack of character development, because this is the story of a weakling changing into a full-blown scoundrel. The interesting thing is how women - unintentionally - become the instrument of his degradation.

Maupassant uses the long and uneventful first part of the book to give us a picture of a provincial youngster unable to find his place in Parisian society. A rather unmanly man, returning from a colonial conflict that was more like a hunting party than a real war. We may assume that left to his own devices he would have ended as small-time official in some forgotten office, but he is picked up by an old acquaintance and his female entourage.

The women attracted by young Georges and helping him are all, each in her own way, superior to him, but somehow he succeeds in taking much more from them than they ever intended to give. In the end even the intelligent and calculating Madeleine becomes a victim. No doubt Duroy is helped by laws and social conventions, but I feel Maupassant was also wondering why capable women seem to be attracted by such weaklings and scoundrels in the first place.

In the second half of the book Maupassant demonstrates how this female support gives Duroy a self confidence and a power that eventually corrupts him. There is no success like success so easily won, and the more he gets by his good looks, the more he needs to convince himself that he really deserves it. In the end there is no limit to his ambitions, nothing in his environment reminding him of moral scruples, and nothing in his nature to make him grateful.

The image Maupassant gives is of an almost cynical realism, unrelieved by a hopeful ending. This may be difficult to accept, but at the same time it feels more sincere to me than the saccharine realism of Dickens or the activist naturalism of Zola. In passing we also get a depressing picture of French society: corrupt republicanism, thoughtless colonialism, a self-centered church. This bleak outlook is only contrasted by a few fleeting and almost painful views of nature’s beauty.

Wendel, that is a really interesting and insightful assessment. You are right-initially the women seem to take him under their wing as someone who needs their help and can benefit from their support, and then he not only bites but completely destroys the hands that feed him.

I agree that this is, unfortunately, a more realistic portrayal of the way of the world than we find in Dickens and others. Which raises the question-does one prefer to read fiction that portrays the world as it is, or that portrays the world as we would like it to be?

Which raises the question-does one prefer to read fiction that portrays the world as it is, or that portrays the world as we would like it to be?"

I definitely like reading fiction that portrays the world as we would like it to be. That said, I believe that pessimistic, awful portraits tend to be characterized as more realistic than equivalent portraits of optimistic people trying to do good in the world.