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Our Lady of the Flowers

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Jean Genet's seminal Our Lady Of The Flowers (1943) is generally considered to be his finest fictional work. The first draft was written while Genet was incarcerated in a French prison; when the manuscript was discovered and destroyed by officials, Genet, still a prisoner, immediately set about writing it again. It isn't difficult to understand how and why Genet was able to reproduce the novel under such circumstances, because Our Lady Of The Flowers is nothing less than a mythic recreation of Genet's past and then - present history. Combining memories with facts, fantasies, speculations, irrational dreams, tender emotion, empathy, and philosophical insights, Genet probably made his isolation bearable by retreating into a world not only of his own making, but one over which he had total control.

The imprisoned narrator "Jean," who may or may not be identical with the author, masturbates regularly; like a perpetual motion machine, his fantasies fuel his writing and his writing spurs on his fantasies in turn. Nothing illustrates this more than the brief scene in which self - sustaining "Jean" describes his Tiamat.... Legs thrown over shoulders, "Jean" is not only the serpent that eats its tail but becomes a small, circular, self - imbibing universe all his own. A motto attributed to the alchemists could be the narrator's own: "Every man his own wife."

Though the narrative is not the primary focus of this or any of Genet's novels, most responsible critics have failed to remark on the fact that the narrative of Our Lady Of The Flowers is the least compelling of any found in his five major novels. Our Lady Of The Flowers, does, however, lay the basic groundwork for the novels to come: The Miracle Of The Rose, Funeral Rites, Querelle, and The Thief's Journal (all written between 1944 and 1948).

While Our Lady Of The Flowers is Genet's only novel to feature a predominantly effeminate homosexual man (Divine, who is at least partially a transvestite) as its protagonist ("Our Lady Of The Flowers," a virile young thug, is a secondary character), most of the other elements of the book will be very familiar to those who have read the balance of his fiction. Transvestites and transvestite figures abound, as do handsome, amoral, and homosexual or bisexual "toughs," jokes and extended vignettes concerned with lice, flatulence, constipation, and feces, mordant examinations of manhood and the criminal's code of honor, obsession with personal power through emotional betrayal, the long vagabond road to "sainthood," theft, masochistic love, prostitution, and vivid examples of the way in which physical desire and sexuality secretly and subtly fuel, in Genet's view, almost every aspect of life. As in portions of his other novels, the characters here, even the swaggering, virile young men, are known among their friends by fey pet names like "Darling Daintyfoot," "Mimosa," and "Our Lady of the Flowers," which are intended to be simultaneously affectionate and mocking. To further confuse, Divine is referred to as a "he" and referred to his surname during his youth and as a "she" and "Divine" in maturity. As in the Miracle of the Rose and Funeral Rites, characters mesh into one another, exchange identities, and move backward and forward through time at the narrator's whim. Both "Jean" and the individual characters fuse their own and each other's personalities together as needed, and all occasionally lose control of this process: but Jean Genet, master puppeteer, never does.

Genet's readers are probably aware of the existence of haughty establishment critics who pretentiously embrace Genet's work but nonetheless treat it like something best held at the end of a very long stick. "Evil" is the word most commonly used to describe Genet's fiction by stuffy, anxious middlebrow critics who, while distressingly stimulated by his work, feel duty - bound to officially decry its potential for pernicious influence. Many artists are said to create a "moral universe" within the body of their work; Genet is one of the few that actually does, though his is a mirror universe where amorality reigns. Genet's world is so exclusively concerned with flea - ridden prostitutes, child murderers who don't wipe themselves, handsome pimps who eat what they scratch out of their noses, [prostitutes] with rotting teeth, strutting, uneducated alpha male hustlers, and masochistic sodomites -- bourgeois emblems of horror all -- that the question of "evil" as such in Genet's work becomes obsolete.

While Genet loves and personally glorifies his memories, fictional recreations and their outcast lifestyles, he never objectively condones their actions to his audience. In all of his novels, Genet finds beauty, suffering, and vulnerability - humanity - in everyone, thus setting a far better example than his hypocritical reviewers. There is as much "evil" in Genet's books as there is represented by any typical novel's reality principle (for example, all of Genet's characters reveal more humanity and innate dignity than the crass, vacuous crowd Nick Carraway falls in with in Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby) or, for that matter, as there is in the lives of those unstable, morally - confused critics who are simply too cowardly to recognize the world as the diverse, dangerous, devouring, and unstable place that it is. If Our Lady Of The Flowers proves anything, it's that fifty years after its initial publication, the book is still effectively upsetting the wormy apple carts Genet intended it to.

From the standpoint of Jung's psychological types, Genet's feeling and sensation functions probably predominated in both his life and his writing. However, his thinking and intuition functions were clearly constellated as well, giving Our Lady Of The Flowers and the masterpieces that followed it unmatched macrocosmic perceptiveness, poetic resonance, and gripping, all - inclusive dramatic power. Like alchemical "totality" the hermaphrodite, a shaman, or a legitimate Christian saint, mystic Genet seems to have written from a state of undifferentiated consciousness and enjoyed a state of perpetual participation mystique with life.

Although I first came across Genet reading "The Thief's Journal", I believe this to be his greatest work (if not the greatest work of modern fiction, better than "Ulysses"). His writing lyrically flows and gives the work an organic unity. No other work, except "Swann's Way" by Proust, has the creative control and beautiful images Genet infuses in his work. A recommended read for all people. A shimmeringly beautiful work of fiction which makes the underworld and the sexual outlaw sublime. (Also, I'd recommend "City of Night" by John Rechy.)

Jean Genet is surely one of the greatest thinkers of the 20th century - not to mention one of the greatest dreamers. In this book he presents us with a web of characters that can only reach mythical preportions. And, interestingly enough, he reveals that the only reason for their creation is for his own pleasure. So the book becomes like a walk through Genet's subconcious, in which we meet different aspects of the total personality that is Jean Genet. The book is like a dream and throughout it we are confronted with monsters, saints, nuns, prison guards, and the most secret of desires. Genet is the only author I have read who is capable of opening himself so completely - and we do get the feeling that this is written for his own pleasure - this makes it all the more enjoyable for us to read!

one of the most brilliant layouts of the psychology of the criminal mind i have read... to actually understand the movements of thought of a boy gone bad and to see the inevitable run of the crime. and to share in the mental and emotional movement is undeniably shared in this first person narrative account.

Certainly one of the greatest lyrical novels of all time. Takes the ideas of Sade, Baudelaire, Burroughs, Robbe-Grillet, Rimbaud, whoever, to a beautiful flowering of evil in which the human body is truly LIVED in and nothing is shirked. One sometimes underrated heir is Dennis Cooper ["Closer," "Try"]. Intense, incredibly shameless and intelligent, this is the novel that made Genet's name. Start here.

A truly great book. Simultaneously psychological and anti-psycholgical, Genet explores and sanctifies outlaw behaviours such as homosexuality (when it was truly outlawed), thievery and murder. Read this in French if you can, but don't hesitate to read the translation if you can't. Sartre's introduction is trash, however (what did you expect?).

Somebody should make an opera of this book! I've loved this book since high school, perhaps more than all the others! Genet as always is like a dark narcotic; impossible to shake, and constantly ecstatic. His genius is like a kind of suffocating honey on the page, it pulls your heart out. This edition has a substantive Introduction by Sartre, whose "Saint Genet" is one of the seminal books of the late twentieth century. If you've never read Genet, you've got something coming! What is there to say about literature of this standing? Read it and be ennobled.

Recently, in reviewing the texts for some of the plays by French writer and playwright, Jean Genet, I wrote the following first two paragraphs that apply to an appreciation of his first novel, "Our Lady Of The Flowers", as well:

"There was a time when I would read anything the playwright Jean Genet wrote, especially his plays. The reason? Well, for one thing, the political thing that has been the core of my existence since I was a kid, his relationship to the Black Panthers when they were being systematically lionized by the international white left as the "real" revolutionaries and systematically liquidated by the American state police apparatus that was hell-bend on putting every young black man with a black beret behind bars, or better, as with Fred Hampton, Mark Clark and long list of others, dead. Genet, as his somewhat autobiographical "Our Lady Of The Flowers" details came from deep within a white, French version of that same lumpen "street" milieu from which the Panthers were recruiting. Thus, kindred spirits.

That kindred "street" smart relationship, of course, was like catnip for a kid like me who came from that same American societal intersection, the place where the white lumpen thug elements meet the working poor. I knew the American prototype of Jean Genet, up close and personal, except, perhaps, for his own well-publicized homosexuality and that of others among the dock-side toughs that he hung around with. So I was ready for a literary man who was no stranger to life's seamy side. His play "The Maids" was the first one I grabbed (and I believe the first of his plays that I saw performed)."

I also noted in a review of "The Maids" that, fortunately, by the time that I got around to reading (and seeing) then such seemingly avant-garde material I had shed my prissy Catholic ignorance about the great varieties of human sexual expression, for good and evil. Especially about the overt homosexuality and masturbatory fantasies that dominate the story line, a plot, moreover, set in prison and concerning the French version of those lumpen elements, from the Parisian streets and waterfront, that I mentioned above that I grew up around in the 1950s. This reading is not for everyone, as literature or as prod to sexual fantasy, but it certainly is in the great French tradition of literature down at the base of society. And certainly a kindred spirit to Celine's novelistic approach. The problem for us is, as the short-loved Paris Commune of 1871 found out, this lumpen social layer, this human dust form the "shock troops" for the reaction when society slides into a revolutionary period. For now though, read this.

Jean Genet's seminal novel "Our Lady of the Flowers" is a glorious celebration of transvestites, lowlifes, prostitutes and murderers in the underworld of 1940s Paris. Our narrator, Jean, who may or may not be Genet himself, regales the reader from prison with stories he's created about fellow inmates between fits of furious masturbation.

The story begins with the death of Divine, a notorious drag queen and inmate of Jeans. From there Jean goes into the story of the recently canonized Divine, from "her" beginnings as the boy Culafroy to her living in an apartment overlooking the french cemetery Montmartre with her pimp Darling, and a young boy dubbed "Our Lady of the Flowers", whom recently committed a murder.

Our Lady is a brilliant exploration of the darker side of life. But naturally, a novel based around a perverted narrator inventing lives for people in order to help him masturbate isnt exactly for everyone. Id call it a healthy mix of Celine's stylistic sensibilities with Battaile's sexual overtones. An early influence on writers like Bukowski. And the 30 page, raving endorsement from Sartre in the preface should entice the existentialist crowd. So, give it a shot. You'll either be a little grossed out or particularly enthralled.

Genet's classic is full of lush, flowery, dreamlike prose and images, and genuinely subversive and anti-social themes. The plot is decidedly non-linear, with many scenes dissolving, more the product of a drug induced dream.