The Damned (La-Bas) (Penguin Classics)

Joris-Karl Huysmans (‘Against Nature’) wrote an even more lurid novel in 1891: ‘The Damned’. In 1890’s Paris, the protagonist - a writer named Durtal - digs into occultism, spiritualism, and satanism while writing a biography of medieval mass murderer Gilles de Rais. One chapter based on Huysmans’ own true life experience describes a black mass. So, yeah, as is typical for the Decadent genre, ‘The Damned’ is out to shock complacent morality by any means possible. However, there’s a lot more going on here. The protagonist is driven by his disgust with a society overrun by positivism and an overweening, grindingly ignorant, materialistic middle class. For example, there’s a pulled-from-the-headlines thread in the novel about half-witted democracy-hating demagogue General Boulanger winning over the French public that sounded very much like America in 2016. Even stronger parallels come via the novel’s critiques of how fin-de-siecle French society corrupts religion, deifies money (in the form of expensive bad taste), and waters down even something as evil as satanism for cheap thrills. As one character says: “Nobody believes in anything any more and yet everybody swallows everything they are told wholesale.” Many such details so strongly mirror 21st Century America that I’m beginning to wonder if the modern interest in Decedent fiction stems from its venomous skewering of trends operating in modern times.

Clasico de clasicos.

Is this a well written piece of literature? Certainly. Is it entertaining and a pleasure to read? No. A part of me felt a bit guilty taking a thrill in the descriptions of Gilles de Rais' crimes, which are truly horrific. But, those thrills were few and far between as the majority of the novel takes place as academic or dinner table discussions between the characters. Protagonist Durtal can be described very simply as a whiney complainer, nostalgic for the good ol' days of the Middle Ages. His boredom and elitist complaints of modern society get wearisome. The other setting is his home where he anxiously pines for Hyacinthe Chantelouve. They exchange stereotypical yes/no/maybe love letters with her starting off as the secret admirer. Predictably, once she gives in and they exchange bodily fluids, he loses interest; the pursuit always more satisfying than the destination. Chantelouve herself is supposed to be mysterious, but is no more sinister than that emo-girl you briefly had a thing for in college. He shows no appreciation, if not outright disdain, for the readers who supply him with an income. He also can't appreciate that the enthusiastic roll in the hay by Chantelouve is the only action he ever gets other than prostitutes. Again, he complains about all of it the whole way. Yes, there is Satanism and mysticism, etc.; but, they predominantly appear in the book as topics of conversation. Very little actually occurs.

Arrived promptly and was in excellent condition--better even than I'd originally anticipated...Save for those remarks, there's little else to add...It's Huysmans enjoying the fruits of Satanism, while researching the life of an infamous diabolist and child-murderer, amid all the dissolutions one would expect--hope, rather--to encounter at a black mass/orgy in fin de siecle Paris; that's just unimpeachable--could one really ask for a better Sunday afternoon's amusement?

People trying to get a kind of occult/gothic aura from this book are wasting their time. This is a luxurious slice of Catholic ritual. Read it in conjunction with Saint Louis de Montfort's  THE SECRET OF THE ROSARY , specifically "The Seventh Rose". La-bas is the Latin Rite in concentrate.

As tends to be the case, my introduction to J.-K. Huysmans was his most famous book, _À rebours_ (1884), which I read three years ago. Far from cheerful and virtually devoid of plot, the novel (if one may call it that) is nevertheless a tour-de-force, and contains some of the most vivid sensory descriptions I have ever encountered. It consists primarily of the portrayal of a mood, namely ennui. Even the book’s anti-hero seems to be an excuse for the depiction of boredom and quiet desperation. The style, however, makes it all worthwhile, even if you don’t happen to agree (as I hope is the case with most readers) with the worldview the book presents._Là-bas_ (1891) is a different story, and yet it bears the unmistakable mark of its author. Unlike its predecessor, this book has protagonists, antagonists, and a plot of sorts, but it also features digressions, social analysis, and art criticism, and behind it all the reader will find a worldview similar to that of Des Esseintes, the central figure of _À rebours_. The final result of this mixture is that _Là-bas_ is not static, not as hopeless, as the work Huysmans is primarily known for.At the center of the novel we find Durtal, who will reappear in three additional novels: _En route_ (1895), _La Cathédrale_ (1898), and _L'Oblat_ (1903). The cycle traces Durtal’s journey from cynicism and misanthropy to the Catholic faith. In this first novel, we find him sunk in a quagmire, desperately seeking for a way out, but looking for salvation in all the wrong places. His close friend, Des Hermies, with whom he disagrees on minor issues, shares his dismal view of the human condition. They pass the time discussing life, art, and Durtal’s current project: a biography of Gilles de Rais, who is often described as the first serial murderer. Another thread of the novel’s plot has our anti-hero getting involved with a married woman with a taste for Satanism. Through her he hopes to meet Canon Doncre, an ordained priest who now officiates at sacrilegious rituals. Huysmans offers in this novel an excellent example of montage. Interlaced with Durtal’s routine is the story of Gilles de Rais, which the protagonist shares with his acquaintances as he does his research.In a sense, _Là-bas_ is a chronicle of the struggle with the three enemies of the soul: the Devil, the World, and the Flesh. Durtal is as world-weary as Des Esseintes, and he looks to the past in order to combat his disgust with the present. He is convinced he would be much more at home in the Middle Ages than in the so-called age of progress. The world around him simply does not satisfy him. His illicit relationship with Mme Chantelouve, for its part, brings out his misogyny, which is simply a facet of his general misanthropy. Mme Chantelouve enters his life at a moment when he thinks he has solved the problem of sexual desire, and so he sees the woman as a bothersome disruption of his peaceful (if tedious) life. Satisfaction of his sexual desire leads only to more disgust, and thus the Flesh fails to endow his existence with meaning. The Devil, finally, is the most obvious presence in the novel, personified in both Gilles de Rais and Canon Doncre, who do his evil work through acts of torture, murder, rape, and desecration. In the Durtal cycle of novels, _Là-bas_ is the equivalent of the Divine Comedy’s Inferno. The descriptions of violence and sacrilege are extremely graphic and disturbing, but readers should keep in mind that this novel represents only the first step in Durtal’s journey, and after all the sight of a devil may lead a person to convert just as effectively as the sight of an angel. At the same time, one must recognize that _Là-bas_ is by no means an innocent novel. Durtal’s inability to embrace the Catholic faith at this point may well mirror the author’s own. It seems to me that Huysmans did intend this novel to be a shocker. I see its influence in another "naughty" novel of the epoch: Octave Mirbeau’s _Le Jardin des supplices_ (1899), in which a woman also leads a man into a world of depravity and sadism.Read in the light of its protagonist’s eventual conversion, the novel makes perfect sense. Durtal despises the vanity of the world; he has a preference for the ideal because the real does not satisfy him. The morbid interest in Satanism is the misguided result of man’s desire for transcendence. After the events described in _Là-Bas_, there are two possible outcomes for Durtal: conversion or despair. Fortunately for him, he chooses the former.More traditional than _À rebours_, this novel is nevertheless a brilliant formal experiment. I have already mentioned the concept of montage; in addition, _Là-bas_ is a dialogical novel. Even when characters are by themselves, they are in dialogue. One may perceive here the influence of Dostoevsky, for whom Durtal expresses admiration in the novel’s first chapter. Many events are described in the novel, and there is certainly more “action” here than in _À rebours_, but the important action takes place in Durtal's mind, or better yet, in his soul._Là-bas_ is the next logical step for readers who enjoyed _À rebours_. Let me warn you again, though: this is an extremely disturbing novel that has retained its shock value more than a century after its publication.The edition I read is that published by Penguin. The introduction by the translator, Terry Hale, is very good and ties the material of the novel to the author’s life. It also traces the reception afforded to Huysmans’ novels in the English-speaking world. The explanatory notes are useful and not excessive. On the downside, the print, for some strange reason, is quite small, the smallest I have seen in a Penguin book.My next book by Huysmans will be _En route_, or perhaps one of his shorter works, such as _Downstream_ and _A Dilemma_.Thanks for reading, and enjoy the book!

I have given Huysmans' novel 5 stars both because of its originality and because of how it treats its subject matter, the relationship of perceived good and evil to a sense of disenchantment with life. Some years ago I also read the novel "Atomised" by Michel Houllebecq which I would also recommend. I believe that Houllebecq was influenced in his writing by Huysmans and it comes through when reading his work. French authors seem highly placed in expressing such things.

I started reading Huysmans because of a thread in Houellebecq's work - the speaker of 'Submission' is an authority on Huysmans, and the focus of the two authors, each at the end of their own epoch, intermingle.It is a good read, surprisingly modern although dealing with esoteric themes: Catholicism, degeneracy, a collapse of civilised norms at a personal and societal level. I see why Houellebecq chose him. Recommended.

'A Rebours' (trans. 'Against Nature'/'Against the Grain') is the more widely known work and certainly the most influential, yet it's this later novel that really delivers all of the crotchety art criticism, withering put-downs, florid description and pervy occult dabbling that you want from this still-underrated novelist. The best part? The strange Satanic investigations part-fictionalised in this novel were informed by Huysmans' own dangerous spiritual curiosity and correspondence with dodgy defrocked clerics. Basically, this is a must-read and, I have to say, still very shocking in certain parts.

Great read.

good