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bob625's review against another edition
3.0
La Symphonie Pastorale is a proto-Lolita exposé of a priest's infatuation with a blind teen, presented through unconvincing diary entries. Though flawed, it was a fascinating downward spiral into jealousy, religious denouncement, and submittance to sinful passion.
Isabelle started off bland but matured as sordid discoveries were made, which got the ball rolling on this mysterious, hopeless tale. Strongly reminiscent of The Pupil by Henry James, one of Hardy's Wessex Tales named The Distracted Preacher, and even Lady Chatterley's Lover at times.
Dorothy Bussy's quarter-century translation is a bit creaky, but proper crackerjack sentences pop up every once in awhile. Gidé's brilliance shines through as being both thrillingly insightful:
Many things would be easily accomplished but for the imaginary objections men sometimes take pleasure in inventing. From our childhood upwards, how often have we been prevented from doing one thing or another we should have liked to do, simply by hearing people about us repeat: 'He won't be able to!...'
and flatout hilarious:
The Abbé had screwed up his mouth till it looked like the hinder end of a hen, and was letting off a series of small explosions.
They're slight things, and will compel fans of Gidé sufficiently, but I felt the spark of emotion failed to render into a full blown flame. The casts' concerns blossom and evolve, though never involve; but don't let this put off these novellas: they're interesting, beautiful, and very much worth reading.
Isabelle started off bland but matured as sordid discoveries were made, which got the ball rolling on this mysterious, hopeless tale. Strongly reminiscent of The Pupil by Henry James, one of Hardy's Wessex Tales named The Distracted Preacher, and even Lady Chatterley's Lover at times.
Dorothy Bussy's quarter-century translation is a bit creaky, but proper crackerjack sentences pop up every once in awhile. Gidé's brilliance shines through as being both thrillingly insightful:
Many things would be easily accomplished but for the imaginary objections men sometimes take pleasure in inventing. From our childhood upwards, how often have we been prevented from doing one thing or another we should have liked to do, simply by hearing people about us repeat: 'He won't be able to!...'
and flatout hilarious:
The Abbé had screwed up his mouth till it looked like the hinder end of a hen, and was letting off a series of small explosions.
They're slight things, and will compel fans of Gidé sufficiently, but I felt the spark of emotion failed to render into a full blown flame. The casts' concerns blossom and evolve, though never involve; but don't let this put off these novellas: they're interesting, beautiful, and very much worth reading.
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