Love, lust, and Les Liaisons dangereuses

1/ It was clearly a mistake to neglect French literature for so long. 

Up till now, the writer I’ve read who seems to have the best understanding of longing and sexual desire and especially female sexuality is Chekhov. But as a writer in Tsarist Russia, he couldn’t be very direct, and Laclos also has an advantage over him that we follow his characters for 400 pages. 

(Went for the original title in my headline so the alliteration works better—see, I think about little things). 

2/ Under my previous blog post about Dangerous Liaisons, Cathy Young wrote: 

“It took me several readings to notice this, but I think Valmont’s actions toward Cecile are very substantially motivated by the need to have a “victory” to counter Merteuil’s victory over Prevan.

[…] I think he waits to write back to Merteuil after he has a “success” of his own to report, especially since she’s been zinging him so much about his lack of success with Tourvel. Also notable: he starts putting the Cécile plan into action shortly after Merteuil sends him the long autobiographical letter in which she is absolutely brutal in putting him in his place and affirming her superiority, and which she concludes with, “As for Prévan, I want him, and I’ll have him; he wants to tell, and he won’t. That is our story.” That letter is sent on Sept. 20; Valmont presumably receives it Sept. 21; his letter to Cécile is sent Sept. 24, presumably after he’s had a bit of time to come up with the scheme with the second key. So I think he knows by then that Merteuil will succeed and is planning his own “victory” to match hers and maybe even beat her to it (but his plan is delayed because Cécile initially refuses).” 

That’s a very good point. 

Cathy also pointed out the parallels between the Valmont – Cécile scene and the Merteuil – Prévan scene, and between the Merteuil – Prévan plot and the Valmont – Tourvel plot. Again, these are great observations—you should read her comments for yourself.

Nothing to add, so I’ll make a different point: I think Merteuil seduces Danceny partly because she’s jealous of Cécile; partly because she wants to test her own power of seduction (as some women out there steal someone’s man just to prove that they can); partly because she wants Valmont to be jealous; and partly because she wants to triumph over Valmont, who won Cécile’s body but not her heart and not even her head.   

3/ Since Hadrian’s comments under my first blog post about Dangerous Liaisons, I’ve been toying with the idea that Valmont is not as attractive and seductive as he portrays himself to be.

Let’s see. Valmont is meant to seduce Cécile and Tourvel. Even if you don’t want to say Valmont rapes Cécile, he lays a trap for her, puts pressure on her, threatens her about reputation, and essentially forces himself on her. 

Now look at his “conquest” of Tourvel: 

“At this last word she threw herself or rather fell into my arms in a faint. As I was still doubtful of such a happy outcome, I pretended to be dreadfully alarmed. But at the same time I was leaving her or carrying her towards the place I had designed before as the field of victory. And, in fact, she only regained consciousness having already submitted and surrendered to her happy conqueror.” (Letter 125) 

(translated by Helen Constantine) 

Is that victory? In both cases, they yield after he forces himself on them—Cécile previously had no interest in him and Tourvel was resisting—it’s only after the sex that they yield, but Cécile is a 15-year-old virgin and Tourvel is sexually unfulfilled (where is the husband?) and vulnerable. They’re vulnerable like Natasha when separated from Andrei. Yes, Tourvel has fallen for Valmont, but you may have feelings for someone and not act on them.

Having said that, I still think John Malkovich is wrong for the role—Valmont has to be attractive—I’m merely pointing out that his two victories are not quite triumphs as he presents them to be.   

4/ For some time, I thought I understood Merteuil better than I understood Valmont. What kind of woman, however self-assured, would enjoy hearing a man with whom she has been involved speak in such praise about another woman? What kind of woman, however slutty, would enjoy being taken for granted and expected to run like a dog whenever some man calls? Laclos depicts so well her jealousy, her sense of rivalry, her wounded pride, her competitiveness and vengefulness, her need to triumph over Tourvel and to have control over Valmont, her love of freedom and of power. I even get why, when Valmont gives her an ultimatum, Merteuil chooses war, knowing it would ruin everybody involved. 

So for some time, I didn’t quite get Valmont, but now I do. To steal Hadrian’s ideas, this is a twisted love triangle—Tourvel appeals to the human side of Valmont and Merteuil attracts the demonic side, but that demonic side is so ingrained in him that he suppresses and denies and rejects his own love for Tourvel, to a disastrous end. He thinks he knows himself, but he does not—until it’s too late. 

5/ In Dangerous Liaisons, the characters all change. The most fascinating change is the deceitful, manipulative Valmont becoming more human, as his foil—the supposedly romantic and noble Danceny—turns out to be a false lover. Look at his letters to Merteuil! What kind of love does he have for Cécile that she is so easily supplanted? Cécile may be unfaithful to him physically, but he betrays her physically and emotionally. 

(With whom does he mean when Danceny writes in Letter 174 that he’s no longer in love?) 

6/ Now that I have finished reading Choderlos de Laclos’s book, I can say that it’s the greatest epistolary novel I’ve read, and the greatest novel about sexual desire, manipulation, and power.

It is also better than the films. It’s no wonder that Dangerous Liaisons has been adapted so many times, as Laclos creates two of the most devious, cunning, and memorable characters in fiction, and there’s a timeless appeal about their sex games—manipulating others for each other’s amusement and then manipulating each other. But it’s in the book where you can see the subtlety of characterisation, the different voices these characters adopt for different readers, the lies they tell others and tell themselves, the uncertainty about whether they’re being honest or playing a role. Laclos exploits the full potential of the epistolary form. 

Magnificent novel.