Customer Reviews

Les Liaisons Dangereuses (New York Public Library Collector's Edition)

5 star:		(27)
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2 star:		(1)
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Many people have seen one of several movie productions of this book and assumed that it is a modern story that has taken the 18th century as its setting. In fact, the book was written at that time, and it provides a shocking, thrilling, sexy window into the lives of the french aristocracy. It is a thing of beauty. The exploits of the central characters make your average daytime soap opera look tame, and it is all done with a cunning and an evil grace that went out of style with the french revolution. Language is used as an aphrodesiac, a lever, and occasionally a cudgel, and since the book takes the form of the published letters of the main characters we hear it straight from the pens of those involved. "Les Liasons Dangereuses" will make you mourn the invention of the telephone. Such skill with the written word! The double meaning was king, with muddied intentions as its queen. Read this book: you really must. If you love language it will become a favorite of yours, just as it did for me.

When I read Choderlos de Laclos' 1782 novel, "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" (which retains its French title in the 1961 English translation by P W K Stone), I found myself amazed and thrilled by its absolute excellence of execution. Its energy and spirit, and the seductive and machiavellian - perhaps even diabolical - undertones which whisper throughout the work, urge the reader ever onwards in the best page-turning tradition. It is possibly not for nothing that the book itself was eventually decreed 'dangerous' by French officials a full 42 years after it first appeared, long after it might have been expected to have lost its ability to shock. Even if you have seen the films "Dangerous Liaisons" (dir. Steven Frears) or "Valmont" (dir. Milos Forman) based on the book - and whether or not you liked them - this is an outstandingly good novel which is beautifully served by the precise and graceful prose of its translator, whose subtle range of diction manages to convey the tones and tempers of the characters most convincingly. The written story's chief virtues - a compelling narrative drive, and a skill in characterisation which permit some superbly-observed insights - easily withstand comparison with the screen versions; even today, when we are so fully exposed to the diverse secrets of the psychiatrist's confessional and the details of all the world's vicissitudes and miseries, it would be hard to improve on their portrayal here in print.

The book succeeds so well for many reasons. Some of its appeal to a sophisticated (or at least blasé) modern audience is, I believe, the multi-layered cynicism of its vainglorious but not unattractive main characters and rivals, the Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte (viscount) de Valmont, a reminder that profound deceit is not the sole prerogative of the post-industrial era. Part of the reader's amusement is to observe how their egotism - by far the most easily-wounded of their sensibilities - is also an exercise in the deception of themselves as well as of all those with whom they have dealings. Equally, their wily scheming and duplicity simultaneously appal the reader while also appealing to any secret desire he might himself harbour to exercise his or her own will with equal freedom and with equal heedlessness of conscience or consequences, thus planting a distinct ambivalence in his breast. This effect is augmented by the shifting first-person narrative, a device which gives the voices of its protagonists an intimate (and often touching) immediacy and multiplies the scope for irony by giving the reader a consistently better view than the characters, to which the skilful interweaving of the sub-plots also contributes. I should mention that the novel is written entirely as a sequence of letters. This format was common in the 18th century when the book was written, but its relative rarity in modern fiction makes its appearance today refreshing. That it is overtly concerned with the sexual seduction of the weak by the strong partially disguises the fact that it is also a philosophical novel whose themes would easily form the subject of more general discussion. As a depiction of the relations between individual human beings, it is, to be sure, a study of calculating spiritual emptiness, but one which does not shy from laying bare the catastrophic consequences of the conspirators on their victims, just as the report of a war correspondent might describe in detail the horror of a bomb explosion in a hospital. "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" not only contains plenty of anguish on the part of its characters and an affecting deathbed scene, but the reader's own emotions are made to oscillate intensely throughout from amusement to arousal, from curiosity to incredulity, from admiration to dismay... all thanks to the superb manipulation of Laclos, whose mastery of both narrative and reader is absolute and, perhaps, somewhat unsettling. (But how I wish he had written more!)

I'm 13 and the reason I bought the book was that I LOVED the movie. I was worried by the fact that it was written in letters but after the first few pages I was completely taken in by it. Dracula was written similarly in letters - but the letters were more descriptive than personal. In the bookwe get in a very close insight into the characters. The true emotions of the characters are conveyed. The conflict of the Presidente's emotions and the tragedy and irony of the Marquise are put across beautifully. A work of art- buy it.

An artillery officer who wrote nothing else of note wrote this book to propagandize his theory that women should be allowed education. One of the cornerstones of the history of the novel. An epistolary novel, which gives De Laclos a wonderful chance to exercise a variety of styles and voices. A story of erotic vengeance. Full of provocative moral and gender relation questions. Several movies and an opera are based on it. The recent movie with Glenn Close is very good.

When I read Choderlos de Laclos' 1782 novel, "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" (which retains its French title in the 1961 English translation by P W K Stone), I found myself amazed and thrilled by its absolute excellence of execution. Its energy and spirit, and the seductive and machiavellian - perhaps even diabolical - undertones which whisper throughout the work, urge the reader ever onwards in the best page-turning tradition. It is possibly not for nothing that the book itself was eventually decreed 'dangerous' by French officials a full 42 years after it first appeared, long after it might have been expected to have lost its ability to shock. Even if you have seen the films "Dangerous Liaisons" (dir. Steven Frears) or "Valmont" (dir. Milos Forman) based on the book - and whether or not you liked them - this is an outstandingly good novel which is beautifully served by the precise and graceful prose of its translator, whose subtle range of diction manages to convey the tones and tempers of the characters most convincingly. The story's chief virtues - a compelling narrative drive, and a skill in characterisation which permit some superbly-observed insights - easily withstand comparison with the screen versions; even today, when we are so fully exposed to the diverse secrets of the psychiatrist's confessional and the details of the all world's vicissitudes and miseries, it would be hard to improve on their portrayal here in print.

The book succeeds so well for many reasons. Some of its appeal to a sophisticated (or at least blasé) modern audience is, I believe, the multi-layered cynicism of its vainglorious but not unattractive main characters and rivals, the Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte (viscount) de Valmont, a reminder that profound deceit is not the sole prerogative of the post-industrial era. Part of the reader's amusement is to observe how their egotism - by far the most easily-wounded of their sensibilities - is also an exercise in the deception of themselves as well as of all those with whom they have dealings. Equally, their wily scheming and duplicity simultaneously appal the reader while also appealing to any secret desire he might himself harbour to exercise his own will with equal freedom and with equal heedlessness of conscience or consequences, thus planting a distinct ambivalence in his or her breast. This effect is augmented by the shifting first-person narrative, a device which gives the voices of its protagonists an intimate (and often touching) immediacy and multiplies the scope for irony by giving the reader a consistently better view than the characters, to which the skilful interweaving of the sub-plots also contributes. I should mention that the novel is written entirely as a sequence of letters. This format was common in the 18th century when the book was written, but its relative rarity in modern fiction makes its appearance today refreshing. That it is overtly concerned with the sexual seduction of the weak by the strong partially disguises the fact that it is also a philosophical novel whose themes would easily form the subject of more general discussion. As a depiction of the relations between individual human beings, it is, to be sure, a study of calculating spiritual emptiness, but one which does not shy from laying bare the catastrophic consequences of the conspirators on their victims, just as the report of a war correspondent might describe in detail the horror of a bomb explosion in a hospital. "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" not only contains plenty of anguish on the part of its characters and an affecting deathbed scene, but the reader's own emotions are made to oscillate intensely throughout from amusement to arousal, from curiosity to incredulity, from admiration to dismay... all thanks to the superb manipulation of Laclos, whose mastery of both narrative and reader is absolute and, perhaps, somewhat unsettling. (But how I wish he had written more!)

In this novel, the ingeneous author juxtaposes two forces of evil--the Vicomte de Valmont as the mysoginist who exploits female sexuality in order to ruin women, and the misanthropic woman--the Marquise de Merteuil, who is brilliant and evil enough to beat men at their own game. That is, until she locks horns with the Vicomte. In each other they meet their match, only this is far from a love match. I think that in each other, they see embodied the very things they each hate about the opposite sex. So, very aptly, their relationship may be called a hate match.

In discussing the wicked deeds of these two characters, critics have attributed them to boredom. One critic said that the two antagonists display a sort of pride in their skill at sexual intrigue. I think that this assessment misses the point. Everything that the Vicomte and the Marquise do in the story is a game leading only to one goal--they each have a burning desire to destroy the other. This may not be readily apparent, but I think that when you realize how much they both hate each other, it is not possible that they could have had any other end for each other in mind. The relationship is one of hate, and their goal is mutual ruin. The people they hurt and destroy are not the point. The point is they want to ruin each other, and they use anyone and everyone to accomplish this goal. Poor Cecile and Danceny are tertiary damage.

The Madame de Rosemonde, who is the Vicomte de Valmont's aunt in the story, described the affair perfectly toward the end of the book. In a letter to Madame de Volanges she states, "I recoil from entering into the least detail concerning this pack of horrors." A pack of horrors it is, but one worth studying. Rarely does a novel provide such a profound and thorough examination of hatred, in particular the hatred between the sexes. However, brace yourself. It is not a comfortable experience to look at hatred this up-close.

The movies that have been made from this book do not really do it justice. I think that everyone deserves the experience of reading this book personally. I think you will learn something about the war of the sexes that may make you reflect on your own misoginistic or misanthropic feelings, thereby providing you with a critical view of the fabled "war between the sexes." If you have such feelings, it will make you question why you feel that way and to what end do you harbor these feelings and perspectives.

This is one of my top 3 favorite books. One of the best epistolary novels ever written, it chronicles the adventures of two courtiers, le ViComte Valmont and Marquise de Merteuil and their manipulative adventures in the world of courtly "love." Spurned by her lover, Merteuil wants to corrupt his finace by having someone take her virginity. Meanwhile, Valmont is insistant of seducing the young and beautiful Mme de Tourvel, a devoted wife. When these two devious seducers make a bet regarding Valmont's success in seducing Tourvel, amorous hell breaks loose, leading to the corruption of more than one innocent. It's a juicy read, full of beautiful people, beautiful language and an adundance of intrigue!

Les Liaisons Dangereuses have a special place in French Litterature. This book offer a perfect view on the libertinage during the 18th century, as well as the way of life of this period (school with cecile de Volange, Marriage with both cecile and Mme De Merteuil, the situation of men : Valmont and St Preux). What makes this book unique : its style, made of letters, you can recognise all characters by his own style. Laclos really gives life to all its characters, each of them having its own voice. Moreover, the typical "double language" is unique. the story, which is part a duel, part a romance.

According to me surely the best book ever written. read it, you will love it

5 stars. A masterpiece, really. So the story is: rich, pretty, French people behaving very badly. Always fun, right? Anyway, I love this story, but I've learned that not all translations of this book are equal. In fact, some translations are so awful that they should be avoided at all costs; others, of course, will really bring the story to life and make you appreciate why this book is such a classic. My opinion on the many translations (the ones I've read, at least) below:

Dangerous Liaisons: Translation by P.W.K. Stone. One of the *best* English translations of this novel. The language is crisp, modern and clean; the style is perfect. You'll forget it's a translation, that's how good this one is. All the characters retain their original voices, wit and characterizations. This is the translation that really made me fall in love with this story all over again. RECOMMEND.

Les Liaisons dangereuses (Oxford World's Classics): Translation by Douglas Parmee. This one is bad. A great example of how NOT to translate a book. All the elegance of the original French novel was stripped from the text by Douglas Parmee, for some unknown reason. Instead, the characters turn into simpering weirdos who talk in garbled, embarrassing-to-read dialogue. The run on sentences gave me headaches; a lot of stuff didn't even make any sense, like the author just did a google translate on huge sections of the book. AVOID.

Dangerous Liaisons (Penguin Classics): Translation by Helen Constantine. This one resembles the P.W.K. Stone translation. It's a very elegant translation of the original novel. It retains all the good parts of the original, while modernizing the vocabulary and making it accessible to a 21st century audience. There are lots of foot/endnotes and background information (unlike Stone's version) that will be helpful to readers who are not familiar with the world of 18th century France. RECOMMEND.

Dangerous Liaisons (Les Liaisons Dangereuses): Translation by Ernest Dowson. A poor translation, imo. This is 18th century French translated into Victorian English; it's one of the oldest surviving translations of the novel, from the late 1800s. The sentences are very ponderous, heavy and bordering on unreadable. I found it *very* difficult to get through it. Like Parmee's version, I found myself reading many (extremely run on) sentences over and over again, because they made no sense at all. AVOID, unless you have a thing for Victorian prose.

I enjoyed the movie adaptation of this play immensely. I enjoyed reading it almost as much...and I STILL gave the play 5 stars!

Valmont is such an interesting character I don't know where to start. He is without morals, charming, intelligent and would give Machiavelli a run for his money. Even so, he ends up being as human as any of us.