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Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Louise Labé, Lilli Marlene, Rape, And the Fate of Women in D’un château l’autre By Louis Ferdinand Céline


 

 

Louise Labé, Lilli Marlene, Rape,

 And the Fate of Women in

D’un château l’autre

By Louis Ferdinand Céline

 

In this article I shall be treating the poetry of Louis Labé ( 1522-66)  and the appearance of the popular song Lilli Marlene made so famous by Marlene Dietrich and the very sinister circumstances in which it appears and which puts a whole new context on the historical background in which the popular song played out during the last year of the war when Céline was staying in Sigmaringen after fleeing his apartment in 1944 for fear of reprisals against him for his supposed collaboration with the Nazi occupiers during the war, a very contested topic even to this day, and his virulent antisemitic pamphlets that were published before and during the war, and which sold so well earning Céline a handsome prophet from his royalties while the trains in France were being loaded up with Jews bound for the innumerable concentration camps in the East, such is the charge. I shall be contenting myself to underline the very musical quality of the prose where the author resorts to repetition, paraphrasing, alliteration, rhyme to achieve the fluency and orality in the text so that the text reads every so lightly off the page, making it a delight for the reader. This style of Céline’s which commenced with the publication of Voyage au bout de la nuit ( 1932) and Mort à credit ( 1936), and to which Céline is largely famous for, but whose unique literary style, or ‘petit musique’, doesn’t really fully get into its stride until the final trilogy of novels which document Céline’s time in war torn Germany which was finally seeing the whirlwind it had started back in 1939, finally, returning to its own doorstep, and which the French writer documented like no other. 

The name of Louise Labé, the Rennaisance poet and warrior, appears at the beginning of the Sigmaringen section in Céline’s first instalment of his exile trilogy D’un château l’autre ( 1957) and just as Francois Villon was symbolically evoked in the Meudon section, in which the first part of the novel is set, evoking memory, both personal and collective, in the symbol of snow, allowing the author to evoke, through the sign, the medieval French literary tradition so does the evocation of the celebrated female poet’s name grant Céline a form of continuity in the narrative to support the major theme of time which runs throughout the novel. ‘…toute les imposteurs commencent à l’an 1000! la jean-fouterie s’étale !...’[1] This is a very important point that we must underline as Céline’s sense of time is deep, like all poets, he is not working on mere Greenwich or Central European time zones which are imposed on the here and now, but, on the contrary his notion of time is more ontologically connected, as progress is practically non-existent. So, whereas in the immediate temporal zones time ticks on and if we miss our appointed rendez vous with A at point B it is because we failed to show up at the designated zone at the appointed hour, so the illusion of progress, its tyranny rather, as in Proust, is ever present. The mortal weight of its shadow pursues us all like some unrelenting banker who will forever claim the interest that our loan has accumulated over every ticking of the minutes. This is the infamous clock of Baudelaire that at every stroke speaks, ‘Meurs, vieux lâche! il est trop tard!’.[2]

The conception of time in D’un château l’autre is not such a sinister god with its sole emphasis on disrupting the quotidian, it is much more like Beckett’s notion of time in Comment c’est and in this I would suggest that the temporal notion that we are dealing with here, in both works, is more heraclitean in the sense that there is no notion of progress whatsoever, as, time is mere ontology so in terms of the human condition, we are at constant 0. Time is as unmoving as history itself in that it is always one step forward followed by two steps back. Hence, the apparition of historical figures like Louise Labé in Céline’s monumental historical literary narrative in which he is attempting to chronicle what exactly happened, yet setting the circumstances of the events in the backdrop of greater historical events, and starting with the castle of Sigmaringen itself, situated on the banks of the Danube, as the narrator reminds us, dates from the early 11th century. As the author of the medieval legend La Volonté du Roi Krogold , written between 1939 and 1940, and which only came to light with its publication earlier this year ( 2023), we now can appreciate the importance of such a location to the author who constantly referred to himself as a chronicler.

Peut-être pas encore se vanter, Siegmaringen ?,,,

pourtant quel pittoresque séjour !...vous vous diriez

en opérette…le décor parfait…vous attendez les

sopranos, les ténors légérs …pour les échos, toute

la forêt !...dix, vingt montagnes d’arbes !...Forêt

Noire, déboulées de sapins, cataractes…plateau,

la scène, la ville, si jolie fignolée, rose, verte, un

peu bonbon, demi-pistache,[3]

 

After the prelude of Meudon, with its views onto the Seine, the stage is now set for act two. The recent publication of La volonté du Krogold suivi de La légende du roi René puts everything into relief, and this was written at the start of the war.

 

Des plaines de la bataille au châteaux d’Elfesdal l’on comp-

tait trois étapes, l’une à travers les tourbes, deux autres en

forêt.[4] 

 

Despite everything, Céline, as an author, is clearly in his element and nowhere more so does the thesis of Yannick Gomez ( 2023) , between the correspondence of music between the 20th century French author and the early 19th century German composer seem more apt, Céline’s musical references already indicated above clearly signal the almost opéra bouffe element, and yet the whole very brooding atmosphere of Beethoven’s Fidelio is, and at all times, never too far off.   

 

Tout ce château Siegmaringen, fantastique bis-

cornu trompe-l’œil a tout de même tenu treize… qua-

torze siècles !...[5]

 

The reference to the fantastic nature of the situation that Céline is about to relate, and fantastical in the proper literary sense in the style of Edgar Alan Poe[6]; ‘funeste équipage’ ( p.122), ‘et un bateau mouche! pleine de Fatômes!...’ ( p.123)  on which Charon, the ferryman from out  of the Dead from out of Virgil and later Dante, ferries the assembled mass with Céline and his entourage to the magical castle.

 

Traqués à mort qu’on a été…pas qu’un petit peu !...

et en Cour !...ce qu’il a pu être héroïque !...quelle

attitude !

 

The heroic attitude of Virgil and Dante, say, not to mention Homer, all three being poets of the epic long poem which for the great Russian comparativist Mikhail Bakhtin ( 1895-1975) was the origins of the modern novel, in terms of structural composition. Indeed, I was much reminded of Bakhtin’s wonderful study of the novel The Dialogic Imagination ( 1975) while reading D’un château l’autre as it would appear to follow the ancient structure of the epic poem – before Sigmaringen[7] ( pp. 9 – 142) and which is mainly situated in Meudon, during Sigmaringen, or section 2, ( pp.143 – 392), and finally the short epilogue, or after Sigmaringen ( pp.394-404.).[8]

 

The appearance of Louis Labé in all of this should comes as no surprise[9]. Indeed, it is not the first time that Céline mentions her name.[10] And, when one thinks about it, considering the French woman’s personal life and how she was a known warrior of her own time, like Céline himself, a member of the cavalry.

 

Qui m’ust vú lors en armes fière aller,

Porter la lance et bois faire voler,

Le devoir faire en l’estour furieus,

Piquer, volter le cheval glorieus,[11]

Pour Bradamante, ou la haute Marphise,

Seur de Roger, il m’ust, possible, prise.

 

War and love are common themes for the Renaissance poet to which Céline has such a high regard, and is it any wonder when he himself was injured in the Great War ( 1914) while he was in the 12th Cuirassier Regiment [12]stationed before the war in Rambouillet. The Cuirassiers, meaning breastplates, were a legendary regiment and who fought distinguishing themselves in the Napoleonic Wars at Austerlitz ( 1805) and Borodino ( 1812) before the catastrophe of Waterloo ( 1815). Again, in an interview while living in Meudon, Céline, when speaking about his reason to join the Cuirassiers, in typical dismissive fashion, says that he was a little bit ‘con’[13].

Labé, a hero of contemporary feminist studies just like her male counterpart Sir Philip Sydney in England for example who embodied so much the idea of the much lauded notion of  the Renaissance man, Louise Labé, likewise, completely embodies the idea of Renaissance woman. The daughter of a wealthy merchant in Lyon who made his fortune making ropes[14], Labé, like many women today, considered herself the equal, if not more, of her male counterparts, a point she makes quite clear in the very first line of the dedication of her poems.

 

Es le tems venu, Madamoiselle, que le sévères loix des hommes n’em-

Peschent plus des femmes de s’appliquer aus sciences et disciplines : il me sem-

ble que celles qui ont la commodité, doivent employer cette honeste li-

berté, que notre sexe ha autre fois tant desiree, à icelles apprendre : a montrer

aus hommes le tort qui’ils nous faisoient en nous privant du bien et de l’hon-

neur qui nous en pouvoitt venir :[15]

 

This then is the poet whom Céline mentions in D’un château l’autre, a female warrior poet and in the context of a novel set during a war and which touches on the subject of women quiet a lot, I think the point is significant.

For example,  Madame Raumnitz who is modelled on the wife of Karl Bömelburg who was non other than the Head of the Gestapo in France during the war and so with the invasion of France by the Allies in June, 1944, he was charged with escorting Pétain and the Vichy government to Sigmaringen where he stayed until April, 1945, before fleeing to Germany where he disappeared without trace until his body was recovered after an accident while trying to enter Franco’s Spain, where more leniency was shown to former German fascists by Franco’s government. Céline describes the family atmosphere pretty well.

 

de ces appartements somptueux, ultraluxueux…

même là a Siegmaringen les locaux secrets

du Raumnitz, pardon ! autre chose que notre piaule !

je connaissais son « aile » au Château, deux étages !

entièrement fleuris !...azalées, hortensias, narcisses !

…et des roses ! je suis sûr au Kremlim, ils sont

pleins de roses au mois de janvier…[16] 

 

In the corridors of power, the point being, the powerful look after themselves, always, no matter where they are while the more vulnerable must deal with whatever obstacles that are thrown their way as best they can. For someone who was tried for being a collaborator after the war, it is hardly a sympathetic portrait that he paints of the Raumitz/ Boemelburg family.

 

…de quoi nourrir a Siegmaringen!...donc

vous voyez, Raumnitz, Madame, et la fille, avaient

trop de tout…et pourtant ils nous ont offert

la moindre tartine ! biscotte ! ticket !...c’était comme

leur point d’honneur…à nous rien ![17]  

 

Pierre Assouline, the novelist and biographer, while discussing his novel Sigmaringen with the academic Christine Sautermeister ( 2014)[18], touched on the point of how much malnutrition played in the lives of the people who were sequestered there. Assouline makes reference to the number of children, of the malice, died because of hunger. So, when you think about the historic context, as it was, and when you read Céline’s novel, you have, of course, a much better picture of just what it was he was trying to accomplish in his writing, particularly the last trilogy of which D’un château l’autre is but the first instalment. Returning to the subject of women, here is Céline’s portrait of Madame Raumnitz, the wife of the quintessential Nazi. The image he paints is almost one of grotesque caricature. 

 

Les deux dogues…il fait signe aux dogues…un

Bond, ils sont aux pieds de sa femme…enfin, à

sa botte !...elle porte bottes…bottes cuir rouge…

elle fait cavalière orientale, toujours à tapoter ses

bottes…et une très grosse cravache jaune…

« Allons, Docteur !... »

J’ai plus qu’à la suivre…[19]

 

The image that comes to mind is one of a dominatrix parading around the medieval castle, and whose husband is the former head of the Gestapo in France, apparently the last officer to see Jean Moulin alive who was so tortured by the Gestapo for two weeks in ‘Villa Boemelburg’ that he died from the injuries that were inflicted upon him. So, this is one part of the spectacle, a glimpse into the lives of the wealthy and powerful. But, how are the ordinary people down in the street doing? Leaving the castle then, and the bizarre scenes that go with it, (almost worthy of Visconti) Céline takes us by the hand and we see…

 

les hommes en chasse!...miteux aussi

en locques aussi ! et convoleurs ! et si ardents ! tous

les bosquets ! tous les carrefours ! l’âge enragé 14…

17…surtout les filles !...pas seulement celles- là, d’un

lieu bien spécial…l’eloignment, le danger permanent,

les hommes en chasses tous les trottoirs…[20] 

 

Every where you turn you can here the piano and the sound of Lili Marlene which Marlene Dietrich was to make so popular during the war that soldiers on both sides used to sing the song. The image that Céline paints of this time is an incredibly cold and violent one, there are all kinds of troop movements going on at the train station, for example. Hundreds of thousands of men from every corner of the world coming and going, and all of them have pretty much just one thing on their mind, as ever, but this is during a war like no other. Céline, as Pierre Assouline reminds us, is a Doctor who pretty much looks after, with one other doctor, almost 2 000 people that were in their charge from the period that he arrived[21]at Sigmarengin, and it is as a Doctor that Céline describes the plight of the many women, some pregnant, and who are out on the street in a time of brutal war. The picture he paints is sinister, particularly as he uses the famous song as leitmotif  in this particular section of the novel when he just wants to suggest the horror of rape, ever present, particularly at the train stations where human traffic is constantly coming and going.

 

la gare était dans mes fonctions, côté sanitaires,

poste secours, réfugiés…alors forcément, salles

d’attente et prostitution ! je devais y voir !...tout

voir !

 

The picture Céline paints, with the language he uses, is what we have come to expect from Céline, it is céllinienne,  as the French would say – un delire, quoi! A Célinean delirium.

 

…farandoles des

aiguillages! poésie!...que les viandes bougent ! c’est

pas qu’au ciel que ça cesse pas d’aller revenir…sur

les rails pareil, trains sur trains…convois infinis…

troubades et troubades, toutes les armes et tous

les peuples…et les prisonniers avec !...déchaussés

aussi, pieds pendants hors…assis au portières…

faim aussi ! toujours faim !...bandant aussi !...

chantant aussi «  Lili Marlène » !...Monténégrins,

Tchécoslovène, Armée Vlasoff, Balto-Finnois, troup-

bades des macédoines d’Europe !...[22]

 

The picture he paints… let us just say that after you have read the novel D’un château l’autre and you hear the song Lili Marlene, let’s just say that you don’t quite hear the song, somehow, in the same way, ever again.



[1] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p.188.

[2] Baudelaire, Charles: Les Fleurs du Mal, Préface de Marie-Jeanne Durry, Le Livre De Poche, Paris, 1972, p.207. 

[3] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p.143.

[4] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: La volonté du Krogold suivi de La légende du roi René, Pages Retrouvées, Édition Établie et Présentée par Véronique Chovin, Gallimard, Paris, 2023,

[5] Ibid, p.146.

[6] There are a number of references to the famous Gothic writer in D’un château l’autre ‘ce quil’s on fait de la maison Roguet’ ( p.41), (a play on Rogêt!) when Céline, returning again to complain of his unjust imprisonment in Denmark after the war, takes the opportunity to speak about some of his former patients, ‘ils savent tout ce qu’il m’est arrivé…ils trouvent tout joliment injuste! De me jeter moi en tôle!...’ ( p.41) . The offence is plapable, the indignation too, ‘moi’, but as ever with the case of Céline we don’t know if he’s serious or if it is just for comic effect, as there is a lot of room for comedy, even if we are never too far off from the grotesque. For example, as if to further highlight such an injustice, he goes on to speak about the disappearances of certain people as the possible consequences of murder, ‘le mystère a déménagé’ ( p.41), it’s a ‘mystery’, as in a tale by Poe, such as The Mystery of Marie Rogêt ,  involving a certain ‘monsieur Roudière’ ( p.42), ‘matraqué, comme!..’( p.42) suggesting that he was possibly bludgeoned to death, thus appeasing the sense of sensation that people seem to need in their lives, which are clearly without any so that a veritable industry is built around entertainment in the guise of crime novels ( beginning with Poe) and it is the same sense of sensation that leads  residents in the area to make the rather macabre joke that the street where the incident apparently  occurred was now known among them as ‘rue Rodière’ ( p.42). ‘Raconter comme ca…choses et d’autres…me remets en mémoire l’assassinat de ‘la Maison Verte’…le macabe esquivé…’ ( p.42) Again, Poe’s Tales were considered macabre, the macabre, a French term, is often associated with his name and Céline, particularly in this passage  of the novel would appear to be making great use of the associations with the writer of the Tales of Mystery and  Imagination.   

[7] Christine Sautermeister referring to ‘la Bibliothèque de la Pléiade’ calls this section the ‘Prologue, p.3-101’, ‘Recit de Sigmaringen, p.103-291’, ‘Epilogue, p291-299’.

Sautermeister, Christine : Céline à Sigmaringen, Éditions Écritures, Version Kindle, Paris, 2013, Chapter 1 ‘Les Dates’.

[8] ‘Now a thing is whole if it has a beginning, a middle and an end.’

Aristotle: Poetics, Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by James Hutton, W.W. Norton, New York, London, p.52.

[9] At the beginning of the Sigmaringen section of the novel, Céline wites the following about the mother of a minister:

chez le Landrat aussi, locataire, j’avais le mère d’un ministre, 96 ans…ma plus vieille malade…quel bel esprit ! finesse ! mémoire ! Christine de Pisan ! Louise Labé !... Marceline ! elle m’a tout dit, tout ! récité ! comme je l’aimais bien !

 

Seulette, je suis demeurée !

Selette suis !

 

Comme elle disait bien !

 

Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p. 200.

 

[10] Refer to interview.

I give the English here as it is the sole rhymed version in English available and Annie Finch has done a wonderful job translating Louise Labé into English.

 

[11]And you should have seen me in my armour, riding high,

  gripping my lance, letting my arrows fly!

  I kept my head in the fury of the fight,

  Spurring my glorious wheeling horse. You might

  have compared me to great Bradamante with ease,

  or to Roger’s sister, the renowned Marphise.

 

Labé, Louise: Complete Poetry and Prose, A Bilingual Edition, Edited with Critical Introductions and Prose Translations by Deborah Lesko Barker and Poetry Translations by Annie Finch, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago London, 2006, pp. 166- 169.

[12] Cuirasse is a word that pops up quite a bit in the remarkable poetry of Louis Labé, almost like a fetish.

 

Ou est l’espee, ou est cette cuirasse,

Dont tu rompois des ennemis l’audace.

 

These two lines appear in the first Elegy, a poem about ‘All-Conquering Love’.

 

[13] Con in French is a very flexible word and can mean both idiot and cunt, in its more vulgar form. It is a slang word that is used on a daily basis by French people everywhere. In Ireland, we would probably say eejit, in comparison. In its more gentle form, and this is how people typically use it. But, the vehemence in which its used should demarcate exactly which meaning would should understand. Beckett uses it a lot in Comment c’est, in screaming capitals too – ‘M’AIMES- TU CON’ – DO YOU LOVE ME CUNT. 

Beckett, Samuel: Comment c’est, Les Éditions de Minuit, Paris, 1992, p. 141.

[14] Again the parallels here are quite extraordinary, whereas Labé’s father was a Ropemaker, Céline’s mother was a Lacemaker. The analogy of Ariadne is not that far off when we consider that both of them would become writers, spinning out the interminable web of words that would become their work. It is just a very interesting point to observe how both of these writers grew up in households with quite similar backgrounds.

[15] Labé, Louise: Complete Poetry and Prose, A Bilingual Edition, Edited with Critical Introductions and Prose Translations by Deborah Lesko Barker and Poetry Translations by Annie Finch, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago London, 2006, p.15.

[16] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p.204.

[17] Ibid, p.25.

[19] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p.207.

[20] Ibid, p213.

[21] Sautermesiter puts the date at the end of October 1944, till the day that he left with Lucette and their beloved cat Bebert, on the 22nd March when he left for Demark.

 Sautermeister, Christine : Céline à Sigmaringen, Éditions Écritures, Version Kindle, Paris, 2013, Chapter 1 ‘Les Dates’. 

[22] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023, p.218.

Sunday, October 22, 2023

Proust & Céline - A Further Heraclitean Duality


 

 

 Proust & Céline

A Further Heraclitean Duality

 

It is largely accepted that the two greatest literary stylists in France during the last century were Marcel Proust ( 1871-1922) and Louis Ferdinand Céline ( 1894-1961). There is a duality at work here, and it works on many levels; literary – Proust famously wrote interminably long and complex sentences full of multiple clauses and which went on and on sometimes for pages on end, while Céline’s style was the very antithesis, his sentences were broken down into mere phrase often terminating in the famous three dots… followed by an exclamation point! And, while Proust came from a wealthy family, his father being a doctor was a member of what we used to call the professional classes, and they lived in the fashionable part of Paris where the young writer attended the Lycée Condorcet, one of the oldest and most prestigious schools in Paris and which introduced the young Proust into the world of the upper middle classes which he was to spend his entire life documenting, while the young Céline went into employment at a relatively young age, being the only son of a relatively middle class family who were quick to send him off to both England and Germany so that he might gain practical experience in learning languages, which he could later put to good professional use. As for religious background, Proust’s mother came from a Jewish background and this is certainly a very determining factor in his work, the Dreyfuss Affair frames a lot of the background of the monumental chronicle of the characters who come and go during the eight volumes, while Céline is still a notorious figure due to the virulently antisemitic pamphlets that he wrote during the nineteen thirties and forties. Yet, despite all of these apparent differences, in their writings they shared one common value which has made them the writers they are, and that is both of them understood the power and importance of human emotion to tell a story, and this is the subject of their commonality and which I want to explore in the present article. If we just take a couple of pages at random from both authors, I have decided to take the first couple of pages from À l’ombre des jeunne filles en fleurs by Proust, and a chapter, one that I was actually reading, from D’un château l’autre by Céline and by examining some passages from both works, it may just surprise the reader how similar, despite their very different literary styles, both writers actually are. Again, this is a Heraclitean element which, no doubt, as I often do, I shall also be remarking on.

 

Ma mère, quand il fut question d’avoir pour la première

fois M. de Norpois à dîner, ayant exprimé le regret que

le professeur Cottard fût en voyage et qu’elle-même eût

entièrement cessé de fréquenter Swann, car l’un et l’autre

eussent sans doute intéressé l’ancien ambassadeur, mon

père répondit qu’un convive éminent, un savant illustré,

comme Cottard, ne pouvait jamais mal faire dans une dîner,

mais que Swann, avec son ostentation, avec sa manière

de crier sur les toits ses moindres relations, était un

vulgaire esbroufeur que le marquis de Norpois eût sans

doute trouvé, selon son expression, « puant ».[1]

 

Here, in the microcosm of this one long complex sentence, made up of multiple non-defining relative clauses ( the infinite Proustian loop), the whole macro-cosmos of the Proustian universe may be dissected and exposed for what it in fact is. An emotional world, in a nutshell. In this opening sentence, Proust inserts the two words in any language which are going to provoke an emotional response, however subliminal, on any reader, and they are – Ma mère and mon père. Proust goes straight in, the very first two words which begin the novel are Ma mère! He takes you right into the heart of the matter in his story, in any one’s story, by introducing you straightaway to his parents, or at least, the parents of the leading protagonist, who is based on himself the author. And this is yet another factor which both these writers have in common, they both used the substance of their own lives to create the characters and plots of their own supposed literary fictions.

A second thing, after introducing you to his parents, in the very first sentence, he then inserts an opportune occasion for a bit of humour, after emotion comedy, or humour, and the two are of course incredibly linked, is the next thing which both authors used to the maximum advantage for getting the reader on their side as what are the two things that anyone, any human at least, needs for entertainment but some kind of emotional content that they can to some degree sympathise with, everyone, for good or bad, has parents, in some form or another, and, being human, so is caught up in the emotional entanglements of their parents and will side with either one or another, or, contrarywise like Céline, choose to remain detached or apart from them. For Proust, despite his great feelings for his father, his mother, and women in general, are very much the object of his attention; it’s all in the book’s title, after all.

Swann is, of course, the catalyst for Proust’s parent’s cause for debate. For despite the fact that his mother has, and by her own admission ‘entièrement cessé de frequenter Swann’, but at the same time expresses the regret that she has, in a sense, as Norpois would have appreciated his company if he had been invited to dine also, while his father is much more emphatic on the subject of Swann and whom he explicitly detests because of his ‘ostentation, avec sa manière de crier sur les toits ses moindres relations’, he is, according to his father, a poser, a name dropper, ‘un vulgaire esbroufeur’ and which even the marquis de Norpois, himself, would ‘selon son expression’, Stink. It's a very funny first sentence and it is a sign of Proust’s genius how he wins, or not, the reader straight away and thereby brings them immediately into the story by practically inviting them into his family home. Is this a very Jewish trait? I merely ask the question as it reminds me, very much, of the humour of Woody Allen, again a Jewish writer and film maker, who, once again, uses emotions and humour to get a direct response from the cinema goer.

So, to recapitulate, in the very first sentence of Proust’s novel À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs we are immediately struck by two things; the very emotive content of the text, or novel, which is that of a family discussion about something as banal as an invitation to a dinner party and the subsequent social politics that goes along with such an event, be they working class, middle class or upper, everyone can relate to the content of the subject that’s under discussion any they can also relate to the different alliances that go also go with such social interactions, and, secondly, the very long complex sentence structure or organisation of the content, those complex clauses in which a lot of non-essential information is being given, but, and this is the whole point, knowing the very complex intricacies of all human relationships, the form is dictated, in a sense, by the complexity of the social interactions of the characters who are being presented. Humour, then, is the solidifying agent that unites the reader to the emotional content of the topic that is under discussion and it is these two last points which, crucially, bypass the very complex social interactions that are being discussed for, at the end of the day, whether the characters under discussion are upper-middleclass Jews, middle class protestant or agnostics or working class Catholics, the creeds are irrelevant as the culture is one in the same, and that is human. This is the transcendental agent, as it were, which allows Proust to connect, and from the very first line, with the intelligence of the reader. Let us now turn our attention to Monsieur Céline.

 

Mois qui croyait!...en fait les malades reviennent

pas !...ni les impatients des W-C…, tout ça doit être

filé aux caves, aux grottes…leurs caves préférées…

ou sous le Château ?...la frousse les tient…pire que

les passages d’R.A.F., Aïcha et la chambre 36 ! je suis

sûr…Lili et Aïcha sont là, sur le palier…elles parlent

de ci, de ca, de tout…bon ! …moi, je dois aller

chez Luther… la consultation de Kurt Luther, méde-

cin mobilisé fritz…c’est l’heure !...[2]

 

‘Moi’ first word, chez Céline, that hits us on the page, first word that opens this particular chapter and it is further paralleled by the phrase ‘je suis sûr’, Me…I am sure, the first singular pronoun ‘moi’ is paraphrased by ‘je suis’ and further down, it is once again repeated ‘moi, je dois aller’, me, I have to go, so the narrator, Céline, as is typical of his work, is putting himself central to the text, all of the action is happening around the ‘I’ or the ‘Moi’, and, of course, this is a much more immediate locus to for the reader to enter into as everyone can identify with the I, it is one of the great privileges of reading to be able to shed one’s own circumstances and through the prism of the pronoun enter into the world of an altogether different subject, but whose context, through the ‘moi’ through the ‘je’ we can enter more immediately into the world of this other who has in a sense become us, in that we see the world now more immediately through them. And, because of the pronoun, its proximity to us, we can also jettison the formality of the speech…as we are talking directly to ‘oursleves’, oneself. Céline, that is, is targeting the other through himself, in the directness of the self and so the content, once again, determines the form, in a sense, and so the language must, by necessity become much more immediate. So all of the social conventions of the French language proper, as Proust employs them, all of the elaborate structure of the clauses, which is as complex and structured as the society in which we the readers now find ourselves, here in Céline, becomes altogether redundant. ‘elles parlent de ci, de ca, de tout…bon!...moi, je dois aller chez Luther…’What is comical, and here Céline’s genius is on parallel with Proust’s, here is the way in which Céline is so dismissive of the content of the women’s discussion. If this were Proust, Proust would have gone into every detail of the discussion that both Lili and Aïcha were having at that particular moment in time. But chez Céline, not a chance. He wants to get on with the subject at hand, which is to say the main events going on around the castle in Siegmaringen, namely the constant attacks from the sky of the combined allied air forces and the almost complete obliteration of the Luftwaffe.

 

je vous ai dit…y a pas que l’Armada!... elle est haute !...

y a les maurauders, rase-motte !...vous avez vu, je vous

ai raconté la promenade, la façon qu’ils nous avaient comme

sertis de balles pendant tout le long du Danube…[3]

 

The repetition is explicit, ‘je vous ai dit…’, the narrator, Ferdinand, is talking to you directly, situating you exactly on the spot. He is talking to you directly. ‘…vous avez vu, je vous ai raconté la promenade,’ he’s not using the informal tu, he is still using the formal vous, but here he is just following polite French social conventions, and so is even all the more to be trusted, the voice that is.

 

Puisque je vous reparle de la promenade, à y

repenser, c’est évident, s’ils avaient pas touché

Pétain, ni sa queue leu leu des ministres, c’est qu’ils

voulaient pas ! un jeu !...et pas un avion fritz en l’air !

…jamais !...et pas une mitrailleuse au sol ! en

somme, pas de « passive » ! n’importe quel bonhomme,

vache, chien, chat, à 400 à l’heure ! vu ! visé ! feu ! salut !...[4]

 

And now, we are directly in the matter at hand. In one clean line, Céline describes the situation directly as it was, emotively to any one who will ‘listen’. ‘He’ is, or rather his Ferdinand, is your eyes and ears on the ground in the environs of Siegmaringen when the allies were strafing the roads, shooting anything that moved, being Lords of the Skies, the German Airforce having been completely annihilated at this late stage in the war. And he is speaking to you directly in a language that you can trust, no frills, no embellishments, the Anti-Proust, in a sense. And in this sense you could say, that Céline, just as Proust is describing the mundane world of the upper classes using suitably upper class register, in other words perfectly formulated grammar, so perfectly formulated in fact as to be almost hyperbole, and in this too there is much humour to be mined, as the register is maintained to the absolute rigour for the entire eight volumes; and so, Céline, on his part, takes on the role of the exact counterpart of Proust, socially, in other words the language and ‘largo’, or slang, of the working classes. Stripped of every artifice, you could say.

 

j’étais dans la “Consigne Routine…

Rien sur les routes !... la même des boches ou des Anglais !

« Rien sur des routes ! » ni chats, ni chiens, ni bonhommes !

ni brouettes !...tout ce qui bouge : rigodon ! ptof !...[5]

 

Yannick Gomez, in his singularly unique comparative study of Céline and Beethoven D’un musicien l’autre, makes the point that onomatopoeia is one of the distinguishing or key factors that Céline manages to create his famous ‘music’. ‘Ici comme plus tard dans Féerie II et sa copieuse description de bombardements, nous retrouvons ces mêmes onomatopée qu’il réemploiera à satiété dans la trilogie allemande. Cette écriture accidentée produit in petto des changements de tempo dans l’oreille du lecteur.’[6]

The repetitions, the constant para-phrasing in Céline, is all part of an extremely complex literary style which he had to copiously apply and reapply by writing and rewriting in order to pare the style right back to its fundamentals, so that while the reader reads the prose with the ease and fluidity of hearing a stream flow or perhaps more so a river flowing along smoothly, the writing has been very meticulously crafted, just as with Proust, so that it is creating the illusion of typical spoken speech patterns of a particular kind of class of person, the immediacy found in the very informal use of language, the slang, all are helping to contribute to the ease and flow of a certain kind of person coming from what we could describe as the more common or ordinary kind of French person from the – dare I say it – ‘working classes’. And, just as Proust, with his very complex and elaborate French usage, is trying to portray the upper classes of French society just before, during and after WWI, Céline is attempting to portray a certain kind of French person of before, during and after WW2, at least in the latter novels. But the social elements, or points of view, are completely superficial for what both writers are ultimately trying to portray in their characters and plots is the utterly human.

 

Or cette réponse de mon père demande quelque mots

d’explications, certaines personnes se souvenant peut-être

d’un Cottard bien médiocre et d’un Swann poussant jusqu’a

la plus extrême délicatesse, en matière mondaine, la modestie

et la discrétion. Mais pour ce que regarde celui-ci, il était

arrivé qu’au « fils Swann » et aussi au Swann du Jockey,

l’ancien ami de mes parents avait ajouté une personnalité

nouvelle ( et qui ne devait pas être la dernière), celle de

mari Odette.[7]

 

Whatever class distinction you wish to underline with either author, one thing becomes very clear when you are reading both and that is the complexity of human behaviour and human communication, language being very much a part of this. As we have remarked, with different classes different ways of employing language are necessary, vital one could say, but when one looks behind the words, the language, one notices very simply that there is another guiding force that is animating the words, and which both Proust and Céline are tapping into, and that is the human register. What Samuel Beckett says about Proust can equally apply to Céline, indeed must.

 

For Proust the quality of language is more important

than any system of ethics or aesthetics. Indeed he makes

no attempt to dissociate form from content. The one is concretion

of the other, the revelation of a world.[8]

 

This is an extremely important point in our times when we are living in such a polarised world and when forces seem to be at work to keep us ever so deeply entrenched in our altogether superficial differences; class, gender, sex, race, creed, nationality, etc., etc. As the man said above, respect for the other is all that counts. So, whenever you hear some idiot praising Proust above Céline or Céline above Proust, you know then in your heart that the cretin didn’t understand anything as both authors, as we have so far seen, are merely interested in describing what is human, altogether being simply human and as the sage of Ephesus well knew, the opposites at both ends are but two forms of the mean.



[1] Proust, Marcel: À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, Folio Classique, Paris, 2007, p.3.

[2] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: D’un château l’autre, Folio, Paris, 2023.

[3] Ibid, p.211.

[4] Ibid, pp.211-212.

[5] Ibid, p.212.

[6] Gomez, Yannick: D’un musicien l’autre, De Céline à Beethoven, Préface de Michael Donely, La Nouvelle Libraire, Éditions, Paris, 2023, p.49.

[7] Ibid, p.3.

[8] Beckett, Samuel: Proust and Three Dialogues with Georges Duthuit, John Calder, London, 1987, p.88.