Customer Reviews

History of the Thirteen (Penguin Classics)

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Most people will not consider this book one of Balzac's best, but I think this collection has some very interesting stories nonetheless. The main theme of each of these stories is love and passion seen through the eyes of Parisians. Some of these passages I consider some of Balzac's best; they are memorable words for anyone who has fallen hopelessly in love. The thoughts and observations of the characters within this collection of books is simply amazing.

"They were thirteen kings...judges and executioners too, they had equipped themselves with wings in order to soar over society in its heights and depths, and disdained to occupy any place in it because they had unlimited power."

So reads the back-cover blurb for the Penguin Classics edition of _History of the Thirteen_. Balzac had a way with words, and with these the fertile imagination soars: what sort of conspiracy theory would pere Honore, perhaps the most famous French novelist of all time, detail? What feverish secrets of ritualistic skullduggery would the ink-corrupted quill scrawl upon the blank, innocent face of parchment? Given the fact that this was written 160 or so years ago, I assumed that current Conspiracy Theory staples of paranoiac-favor would be missing-it seemed a far cry, that any 4th dimensional reptilian Satan-worshiping aliens would make a cameo appearance in the French salons, perverting the rule of the Bourbons, re-writing the Dead Sea Scrolls in their spare time, and jostling the extras line for a background face-shot in Sightings-yet certainly one could expect, in Balzac's `fictional' account of the Thirteen, the occasional allusion to the `old-skool' *member's only* clubs... perhaps a hint of neo-Templar Egyptian-spiced exclusivity? Or, perhaps, an eyewitness account of the ultra-debauched rites used to entertain and ensnare...? Thus, I plunged into the book with bated breath and no few pulpy expectations, hoping that, once again, the literary pen would raise the ghosts and grandiosity of the bygone age: let nineteenth-century Conspiracy Theory breath the befouled air of its exhumation!

Well, in reflection, the literary pen did revive, to my firmly modern-entrenched mind, the environmental parameters and social paradigms of this long-extinct Parisian era, so turbulent and raw in the aftermath of the Revolution and Napoleon's Grand Vision. Balzac was born on the tip of this generation, and his writings capture the social strata of the time: the continual wrangling for power between the aristocracy and the reformists; the lack of fortitude among the noble-born, the ignorance of the common-man...and, lest I forget, the upjump exploitation of the self-made individual. All and one, they find a place in Balzac's interconnected oeuvre, the Human Comedy, wherein the three novels of _History of the Thirteen_ reside.

Yes, three novels, or more accurately, novellas. Curiously, I could not find the above quote anywhere in the pages between the front and back cover, though its promising eloquence continually mocked me; moreover, the secret society of the Thirteen is left, for the most part, unexamined, their motives mysterious, their origin untold. Balzac instead concerns himself with the trials and turmoil of those in love, covering the three bases of miscommunication, coquetry, and unachieved expectation, afflictions so common and prevalent in matters of the heart.

A closer look:

1) Ferragus:
A tragic tale of a good, honest stockbroker and the wife he comes to suspect of cuckoldry. Miscommunication and the fear of plummeting down the social hierarchy are Balzac's central themes here, with constant asides about the nature of Paris or humanity as a whole. A member of the thirteen is central to this story, though his appearance is late and he reveals precious little of the society's History.

2) The Duchesse de Languais:
Balzac had just emerged from a disastrous fling when he wrote this novel, and it is quite obvious between the lines that he had an o'erbearing spleen to vent: thus we are treated to the oft-silly and ultimately destructive theme of coquetry. In no uncertain terms Balzac savages the "young and the restless" of the 1840's Parisian jet-set in straight language (a venomous critique of the dissipative patterns of the day), and exemplifies this class in one of the two main characters, the Duchess de Languais. The Duchess mercilessly toys with the desires of the honest soldier Montriveau (in essence, Balzac himself) until he, in turn, decides to enact a callous form of silent-treatment revenge... There are some rather piercing statements about the nature of women in this novella; nothing that would turn the eyebrow of Schopenhauer, but more than enough to infuriate the Toni Morrison crowd. Still, Balzac is unequivocal in his treatise on character wiles: Montriveau's pride is just as damaging, ultimately, as the Duchesse Languais' (quite natural) coy instinct.

3) The Girl with Golden Eyes: Here, Balzac abandons narrative and uses the first-quarter of the novella to ruminate on the social strata of Paris, specifically the physiognomy of the artist, the civil servant, and the elevated bourgeois; all enslaved, in their own way, to the lusts of "gold and pleasure." The story, when we eventually get to it, concerns the seduction of a beautiful young woman by a dissipated servant of the Thirteen, and touches on the sensitive (for that time) topic of homosexuality and the human obsession with purity and virginity. The shortest and the least of the three novellas, the Girl with Golden Eyes is still a worthy read for the opening screed and for some of Balzac's delicious descriptive prose.

All in all, although nowhere near as good as Pere Goirot or the Black Sheep, this is a worthwhile read for those who like nineteenth century literature. Balzac knew French society like few others and is happily unsentimental in both conceptual idea and the commencement of the prose. Just don't go in expecting `alternative history'... the only conspiracies here are those of the heart.

A definitive contrast between the men called the Thirteen and social life in Paris at the beginning of past century. On one hand, we have men dedicated to their principles and goals, and on the other hand, a declining noble society only busy with itself and its past glory. In the meantime one can feel how the less glamorous society is evolving and maturing.

I'm a fan of French literature, but no expert on Balzac, having read only a few of his better-known works, which I enjoyed very much. This book is actually a trilogy of three short novels. The common thread linking the three stories is the "Thirteen" mentioned in the title, a secret society of powerful, influential men, sort of a cross between the Order of the Skull and Bones, the Masons, and the Mafia. One would expect a book on such a subject to be full of dastardly deeds, politcal intrigue, and shocking criminal schemes. Unfortunately, the Thirteen only makes cameo appearances in what are basically three unexceptional romance novels. I wanted cloak and dagger; instead I got a meditation on love. To me it seems a waste for the author to have created this intriguing shadowy organization only to squander it on a book that's not really about the Thirteen at all. Quite often in this book Balzac breaks from the narrative to offer expository mini-essays on Parisian society and the politics of the era. While at times these asides are annoying distractions, they may also be the book's saving grace. Scholars or enthusiasts of French history and literature will find them fascinating, and probably more valuable than the love stories themselves.