As I read each page of this dreadful, almost too realistic, novel, I noticed Flaubert likes to point out sometimes mundane realities, and even common, yet tragic realities. As I read, I find myself bored with the book because I catch on to these realities and I don't feel the way a novel is supposed to make me feel. I don't like to think or focus my mind on things that could have originated in my own mind, or I could have even witnessed firsthand, but to experience another's mind or even to learn new ideas. If not to learn a new idea, then to expand on a preexisting idea or even create a more stable base for newly emerging ideas to form.
I haven't yet finished Madam Bovary, so I cannot say that what I have read so far holds true throughout the entire book, but I can say that from the moment I read the opening sentence to the moment my eyes shut unwillingly each night, I was not satisfied.
Yep.
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Good post! (It's great to see some writing from you--I hope to see much more). As we discussed in class, I wonder if the term "tragedy" is really appropriate here. Indeed (and as we also discussed), a big part of your frustration is that Flaubert never really signals how we, as readers, ought to "feel" (which compounds the difficulty in processing the work). It seems that the only legitimate reaction is to sneer along with the author at his pathetic characters' stupid decisions--but where does this leave us?
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