Customer Reviews

Mandarins

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There are plenty of great books and films about the squalor of life during wartime, and even more about shellshocked soldiers coming to grips with life during peacetime. But surprisingly few novels deal with civilians faced with the task of rebuilding the devastated world around them. The Mandarins would have to be at the top of that very short list. Most critics, here and elsewhere, have tended to focus on the book as Beauvoir's record of her affair with Nelson Algren, but like all great artists, Beauvoir transforms the raw material of her life into something far more profound and encompassing, especially as it is played out against the grand, ruined backdrop of postwar Paris. The resulting book succeeds on so many levels: as roman a clef (Camus, Sartre, Koestler, and obviously Algren all feature prominently), as novel of ideas (of the "where do we go from here?" variety), as a love story (really two love stories--we can't forget Henri/Camus, whose story takes up half the book!), as a Jamesian exploration of brash New World vs. exhausted Old World culture, and finally as a portrait of an intelligent, civilized woman wrestling with her darkest impulses in the wake of Europe's darkest moment.

Is the book overly long? Probably. Melodramatic? At times. Too cluttered with phrases of the "smiled knowingly" variety? Without a doubt. But it's redeemed time and again by the keen intelligence Beauvoir brings to bear on her characters and herself. For days after I put the book down, I found myself literally pining for the company of Anne, Lewis and Henri. Is there any greater testament to a novel than that?

This novel is the work of a brilliant mind wrestling with big thoughts during Europe's darkest hour, and it is easy to understand why it won France's highest honor, the Prix Goncourt. Set amidst the ruins of post-World War II Paris, THE MANDARINS (1954) provides a fictional portrait of Simone de Beauvoir's existential, intellectual circle of friends, which included her lifelong partner, Jean-Paul Sarte, Albert Camus, Aurthur Koestler, and her lover, Nelson Algren. (In her fiction, de Beauvoir drew heavily from her own life and the people in it. As a result, many readers of THE MANDARINS have drawn comparisons between her character Anne to de Beauvoir, Henri to Camus, Anne's husband to Sartre, and Anne's daughter to de Beauvoir's lover, and just as many readers have approached her novel primarily as an thinly fictionalized account of de Beauvoir's passionate affair with Algren.) Certainly, THE MANDARINS may be read as a love story examining the complex dilemmas posed by love and marriage (i.e., existential relationships are easier in theory than in reality). However it also succeeds on a more profound level.

In the confusing aftermath of a world war, when oppression and fascism threatened personal freedom, de Beauvoir insightfully struggles with the question, "where do we go from here?" in THE MANDARINS. Her fascinating circle of intellectual characters demonstrate that life is difficult and confusing, and to live a meaningful life, we must accept the responsibilities that come with freedom. In the end, one must decide to either founder in apathy--things "are never as important as they seem; they change, they end, and above all, when all is said and done, everyone dies. That settles everything" (p. 359)--or one may listen instead to the life-affirming beat of the heart--as the heart continues to beat, and it beats "for something, for someone" (p. 610).


THE MANDARINS is truly a masterpiece and a life-affirming work of genius. And when oppressive governments continue to threaten our personal liberties, the philosophical questions that haunted de Beauvoir when her novel was published fifty years ago remain just as relevant today.

G. Merritt

The reason that I love Simone so much is defined in this book. What happens when you live with atrocities? What happens when you have to see lives terribly torn apart by evil? What can a person do?

DeBeauvior takes these questions and makes them human, and gives hope to our world. But, with any great existentialist thinker, makes the point that living is hard. To exist well we must make choices and be able to live with them. All of the characters in this book show the angst and chaos of war. How they are able to live with each other and themselves is displayed with amazing depth and insight. The complexities of women are shown vividly - especially if you have read The Second Sex. Each of the woman characters are shown struggling with their societial place as Other, yet, show this trancendence that is even more important to her gender.

This is also an incredible demonstration of the power and pain of love. I read this book as a teenager and found that I reread it at least once a year to remind me of the beauty and pain of life. It is a wonderful book about being a woman, and a thinker. I recommend it to anyone who is disturbed about events in this world and how to deal with them.

De Beauvoir was one of the greatest minds of this century. The sheer force of her intellect is overwhelming, but thankfully she was also an imaginative, honest, and often funny writer. The Mandarins has long been considered her masterpiece, and with good reason. A fictionalized account of a group of intellectuals struggling in postwar Paris, The Mandarins allows us the reader to peer into a world inhabited by fascinating, difficult, confused and life-affirming individuals. The novel deals with issues that still haunt France, indeed all of Western society, today; specifically the choices people made when the world around them became dominated by oppression, fascism, and the suppression of certain freedoms. How does one come to terms with the fact that atrocities occured under one's nose? How much freedom was taken away, and how much was given up voluntarily? Why is responsibility so important? And how does one act responsibly? Though existential in nature, the themes addressed in this book transcend labels. It is a painful struggle to accept one's freedom, and the responsibility it entails. The Mandarins show how different people come to terms with their conditions. The novel becomes all the more juicy because it is based on real people; Anne is de Beauvoir, Henri is Camus, Anne's husband is Sartre, Anne's daughter is de Beauvoir's lover. Apparently, the rich clothes designer who clawed her way to the top and collaberated with the Nazis is based on Coco Channel. De Beauvoir caused quite a stir with the publication of this novel; I imagine she must have ticked off alot of Paris "society"

Not only was Simone de Beauvoir a greater philosopher than her companion Jean-Paul Sartre, she was also a tremendously skilled writer. Both the philosopher and writer in de Beauvoir find their expression in this autobiographical novel. Although the subject matter (post-WW II France) may at first glance appear dry, some of the greatest minds of this century are captured in this account. Although readers may not be in as fateful positions as the characters in this book, they can relate to the many difficult decisions that the characters have to make, e.g. between personal principles and financial necessity, or the personal dilemmas faced in love and marriage. The Mandarins thus make very engaging reading on several levels. Some readers may want a peek into the private lives of de Beauvoir and Sartre, others may be more concerned about philosophical issues, some may want a slice of social history, and yet others may seek a book that is so well written that it is a joy to read even if one does not care for the subject matter. The Mandarins meets all these requirements. Hats off also to the translator, who has done an exceptionally good job in carrying de Beauvoir's writing skills accross the Atlantic.

The Mandarins was the book of the month for an expat book club based in Moscow, Russia. We chose the book for the following reasons: life and values in post-war France, politics torn between Soviet Russia and communism on the left and the US and capitalism on the right, feminism, intellectualism. What we got was a lively discussion about idealism, returning to life after a war, trying to make sense of values and priorities. Most of us felt a sense of accomplishment by actually finishing the book. It is a formidable read, but worth the effort, less as a novel, but more as a snapshot of a time in which we did not live, but with elements of our current life in post-Soviet Russia still as relevant today as they were 60 years ago.

My reactions to Simone's massive novel about life with J.P. Sartre, Albert Camus, and Nelson Algren are violently mixed. It's fascinating to read about an era where prize-winning novelists were resistance fighters and political organizers, and though they're continually bemoaning their powerlessness, I'm amazed by how much what they do and say matters in their vanished world. On the other hand, it's discouraging the way Simone turns Sartre into a plaster saint, and Camus into a heroic godlike creature every woman desires. The big revelation this novel delivers is how focused on men the author, a feminist icon, was, and how hostile she is to all women other than herself. It wasn't just the era she lived in, because Colette, born a generation before Simone, wrote many warm and appreciative portraits of women, and didn't delude herself about the flaws in the characters of the men she loved.

One of the philosophical preoccupations of the novel is Sartre's idea of "Bad Faith", which as I interpret it, is the creation of a morality or an ideology that protects us from the anxiety of having to make choices about our life. The Camus character in the novel is continually struggling with one anguished choice after the next about freedom, betrayal, life and death, but the choices of the women are limited to choices between one man and another. And even then, the choices about when to end the love affairs are almost always made by the men. Perhaps Simone's bad faith about the inability of women to be happy without being the acolytes of men is what makes her style pedantic and turgid, resembling James Michener far more than her literary predecessor, the clear-eyed and elegant Colette, so that the novel is slow going, relying on the basic vitality of the times and the characters to pull you along.

I will allow the reader an oppurtunity to read through some quotes within The Mandarins, so that s/he will decide whether the book is worthwhile or not...

" [...] to be no one, all things considered, is sthg of a privilege [...]"

" No I shan't meet death today. Not today or any other day. I'll be dead for others and yet I'll never have known death "

" If you think you're nothing, that you can do nothing, that you have rights to nothing, what can you expect to make of yourself ? "

"... its unhealthy to insist on living in the past, but you can't be very proud of yourself when you realize you've more or less disowned it. That's why they invented that dreadful compromise: commemoration"

" To survive is, after all, perpetually to begin to live again "

"... is it that I really believe in a dream, or is it stubborness due to pride, defiance or a sense of self-satisfaction ? "

"... a habit is never bad, despite what they say..."

"... it's strange to lose yourself absolutely in another. But, how rewarding it is when you find the other in yourself..."

"... the right moment is immediately..."

"... to live is to die a little..."

"... becoming aware of my skin is the act of sex..."

This roman a clef -- whose characters' real-life counterparts were the intellectual vanguard of the French Resistance during World War II -- takes place in Paris just as the war is ending. Amid uncertainty, they try -- some more successfully than others -- to redefine their politics and personal relationships as peace descends. The complex story is told mostly in third person narrative, punctuated every few chapters by accounts of people and events through the eyes of Anne, a therapist long-married to an older, prominent intellectual and Resistance fighter and mother to a young woman just entering adulthood. (The character of Anne's husband, Robert, is based on Jean-Paul Sartre, de Beauvoir's long-time companion.) This group of writers, fighters, mentors and philosophers struggle with how to remain faithful to the values for which they had so valiantly fought during the war.

In addition to reckoning with political and intellectual complexities, every character in the book is coping with issues of personal attachment and integrity. Like many existential novels, this is a book about making choices and keeping commitments -- to ideas, to political values, to family and love.

The love affairs among the characters, young and old, are beautiful, heartbreaking and real. Over many years, Anne and Robert have built a comfortable and deeply respectful relationship that remains solid despite the enotional and ideological chaos that surrounds them. Their daughter, having come of age during the war, turns to impetuous and self-destructive behavior as she mourns the loss of her first love in the war. Especially poignant is de Beauvoir's depiction of obsessional love and madness in Paula, whose devotion to the ethically-challenged Henri is rewarded by deception and neglect.

This novel represents story-telling at its best -- brilliantly capturing time, place, character and the philosophical underpinnings of existentialism. The issues the author tackles and the characters she creates are as meaningful to us today as they were to her fifty years ago

A 500 page novel but once I picked it up, I couldn't stop. Set in post-far France, it the story of half-a-dozen characters. Their lives and ideas after war. I find politics boring but for the first time I found the political upheaval presented in such an intelligent fashion. Another aspect I liked was Beauvoir's ability to deal with the male characters in as much efficient way as she handled her women.

Simone de Beauvoir, a French essayist and novelist, was a leading feminist and a proponent of existentialism. Her philosophical view closely resembled that of Jean Paul Sartre, a lifelong associate. The story goes that she was very beautiful (besides being a very intelligent woman) and Sartre rather ugly and yet theirs was a great union. The existential dilemma is the central theme of her works, but her perspective ranges from the autobiographical to the historical. The Mandarins,is supposedly, a fictionalized account of Jean Paul Sartre and his existentialist circle.

Remember to pick it up when you have some time at hand or else you will find yourself sleepwalking at work after staying up with the book the whole night.