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A review by albatrossonhalfpointe
Carmen and Other Stories by Edward Manley, Prosper Mérimée
3.0
The first in a line of modern masters of the short story, Prosper Mérimée (1803-70) wrote about the dark forces at work beneath civilization's thin veneer.
In Carmen (1845), the tale from which Bizet's famous opera was drawn, Mérimée created a classic literary type: the femme fatale, who exploits her sexuality and air of mystery to ensnare and ultimately destroy the unwary. Like Carmen, his other 'long' tale, Colomba, mingles violent action and local colour with an ironic narrative style; Colomba herself is a protagonist of chilling power even greater perhaps than Carmen's.
This selection includes five short stories written in 1829-30, chosen to show Mérimée's supreme ability to explore the contrast between primitive and civilized values. In Mateo Falcone, a Corsican's conception of honour forces him to exact a ruthless revenge; The Storming of the Redoubt describes an incident in Napoleon's 1812 Russian campaign; Tamango depicts a revolt of Negro slaves; The Etruscan Vase is a tale of passionate jealousy set in Paris; The Game of Backgammon is a study in fatal remorse.
Mérimée's own favourite among his stories, The Venus of Ille, is a brilliant tale of the supernatural; Lokis, the last story in this selection, is set in the forests of Lithuania and represents the fiction Mérimée wrote in old age.
OK, well, let's do this in the order presented above.
Carmen: I wasn't really that enamoured with either her or the story. I didn't find her that enthralling, and the dude wasn't that sympathetic, either. I seem to recall that in the opera, he actually kills her in a passionate moment of frenzy, right outside the bullring, and I think that's a better way than the almost calm, matter-of-fact way he does it in the original. I'm really not doing so well lately on originals vs. adaptations here...
Colomba: I liked this one. I don't know that I would necessarily go so far as to say that Colomba has "chilling power," but I liked her better than I liked Carmen, and I liked the whole story better too. It didn't end quite the way I expected, either, wich is always kind of fun. This was the second-last story in the collection, and up to that point, they'd all ended badly, so I was entirely expecting this one too as well. Things mostly worked out OK, though, so that was kind of nice, as I actually liked the characters, and was pleased to see things turn out for them.
Mateo Falcone: Didn't leave much of an impression on me. There was honour and ruthless revenge, and that was that.
The Storming of the Redoubt: This one was very short, and I'm not too sure what the point was. It was more like a short battle scene out of a larger context.
Tamango: Stories about slaves are always a little sad, although frankly, I feel a little less sad about the fate of a guy who makes a living selling his own people into slavery. The sense of futility was quite well conveyed though, with the slaves successfully managing to overthrow their captors, only to realize that they have no sea skills, leading to their getting lost at sea and ultimately all dying anyway. Dying free, I guess, which is perhaps an improvement over the alternative, but dying of starvation and dehydration is really never good, no matter what angle you look at it from.
The Etruscan Vase: This one did not end well, and that made me sad, because it almost did, and I actually quite liked the protagonist. Human folly at its best (or worst, really, I suppose) leads to the poor dear's undoing.
The Game of Backgammon: Another downer, but interesting in the way he uses the framing device. A number of his stories start and end with someone telling a story, but this one brings the frame back before the story is over. Something happens in "real life," if you will, leading to the story's being broken off so you never actually get to find out how it ends.
The Venus of Ille: There was a little Frankenstein in here, a little Tim Burton's Coprse Bride, and I want to say at least a little of something else I've heard before. It was very reminiscent of a sort of folk tale, maybe, an old legend that we've heard in various incarnations throughout our lives. Who knows, though? Maybe this was the original.
Lokis: This one was a little odd. It too ends quite abruptly, but not in quite the same way as the other. You basically do get to the end of the story, but there are quite a number of unanswered questions at that point. It seems like there might be a supernatural element, but that's never entirely clear, or it could just be an insanity story, but that's not entirely clear either. I liked it, though. It kept me interested in what was going to happen, so that's good.
Generally, I'm not a big fan of short stories, but for the most part, these ones were pretty decent. Still, though, I prefer to have my stories told in their full context and everything, rather than just quick little snapshots of a moment.
In Carmen (1845), the tale from which Bizet's famous opera was drawn, Mérimée created a classic literary type: the femme fatale, who exploits her sexuality and air of mystery to ensnare and ultimately destroy the unwary. Like Carmen, his other 'long' tale, Colomba, mingles violent action and local colour with an ironic narrative style; Colomba herself is a protagonist of chilling power even greater perhaps than Carmen's.
This selection includes five short stories written in 1829-30, chosen to show Mérimée's supreme ability to explore the contrast between primitive and civilized values. In Mateo Falcone, a Corsican's conception of honour forces him to exact a ruthless revenge; The Storming of the Redoubt describes an incident in Napoleon's 1812 Russian campaign; Tamango depicts a revolt of Negro slaves; The Etruscan Vase is a tale of passionate jealousy set in Paris; The Game of Backgammon is a study in fatal remorse.
Mérimée's own favourite among his stories, The Venus of Ille, is a brilliant tale of the supernatural; Lokis, the last story in this selection, is set in the forests of Lithuania and represents the fiction Mérimée wrote in old age.
OK, well, let's do this in the order presented above.
Carmen: I wasn't really that enamoured with either her or the story. I didn't find her that enthralling, and the dude wasn't that sympathetic, either. I seem to recall that in the opera, he actually kills her in a passionate moment of frenzy, right outside the bullring, and I think that's a better way than the almost calm, matter-of-fact way he does it in the original. I'm really not doing so well lately on originals vs. adaptations here...
Colomba: I liked this one. I don't know that I would necessarily go so far as to say that Colomba has "chilling power," but I liked her better than I liked Carmen, and I liked the whole story better too. It didn't end quite the way I expected, either, wich is always kind of fun. This was the second-last story in the collection, and up to that point, they'd all ended badly, so I was entirely expecting this one too as well. Things mostly worked out OK, though, so that was kind of nice, as I actually liked the characters, and was pleased to see things turn out for them.
Mateo Falcone: Didn't leave much of an impression on me. There was honour and ruthless revenge, and that was that.
The Storming of the Redoubt: This one was very short, and I'm not too sure what the point was. It was more like a short battle scene out of a larger context.
Tamango: Stories about slaves are always a little sad, although frankly, I feel a little less sad about the fate of a guy who makes a living selling his own people into slavery. The sense of futility was quite well conveyed though, with the slaves successfully managing to overthrow their captors, only to realize that they have no sea skills, leading to their getting lost at sea and ultimately all dying anyway. Dying free, I guess, which is perhaps an improvement over the alternative, but dying of starvation and dehydration is really never good, no matter what angle you look at it from.
The Etruscan Vase: This one did not end well, and that made me sad, because it almost did, and I actually quite liked the protagonist. Human folly at its best (or worst, really, I suppose) leads to the poor dear's undoing.
The Game of Backgammon: Another downer, but interesting in the way he uses the framing device. A number of his stories start and end with someone telling a story, but this one brings the frame back before the story is over. Something happens in "real life," if you will, leading to the story's being broken off so you never actually get to find out how it ends.
The Venus of Ille: There was a little Frankenstein in here, a little Tim Burton's Coprse Bride, and I want to say at least a little of something else I've heard before. It was very reminiscent of a sort of folk tale, maybe, an old legend that we've heard in various incarnations throughout our lives. Who knows, though? Maybe this was the original.
Lokis: This one was a little odd. It too ends quite abruptly, but not in quite the same way as the other. You basically do get to the end of the story, but there are quite a number of unanswered questions at that point. It seems like there might be a supernatural element, but that's never entirely clear, or it could just be an insanity story, but that's not entirely clear either. I liked it, though. It kept me interested in what was going to happen, so that's good.
Generally, I'm not a big fan of short stories, but for the most part, these ones were pretty decent. Still, though, I prefer to have my stories told in their full context and everything, rather than just quick little snapshots of a moment.