Weeks 7–9: Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" (1984)

We have traveled far and wide this semester, but our sixth novel presents us with a situation we haven't previously encountered: a country that no longer exists. Indeed, the Czechoslovakia that serves as the setting for Milan Kundera's best-known novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984) has been replaced by the Czech Republic, and by the time of the book's publication, Kundera had moved on as well — he left his homeland in 1975 and lost his citizenship in 1979, eventually becoming a French citizen two years later. Arguably, one could consider Kundera a French novelist, since he's spent the past three decades writing exclusively in that language, and the author himself supports this characterization.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being centers around the tumultuous events of 1968 and their aftermath: specifically, the brief hope presented by the democratizing Prague Spring, which was swiftly crushed by a Warsaw Pact invasion (led by the USSR) in August of that year. Tomáš and Tereza are a young married couple: he's a brash womanizing surgeon, while she's still discovering herself both on her own and through their union. Sabina is Tomáš' mistress, and in time becomes a friend to Tereza as well. Through their experience of the revolutionary spirit of the times, Kundera offers us philosophical insights on life and its meaning, from the macrocosm of geopolitical clashes to the ways of individual hearts and minds.

Here's how we'll split up our time with Kundera:

• Fri. October 6: part 1, ch. 1–17; part 2, ch. 1–17
• Mon. October 9: NO CLASS — Fall Reading Days
• Wed. October 11: part 2, ch. 18–29; part 3, ch. 1–11
• Fri. October 13: part 4, ch. 1–29
• Mon. October 16: part 5, ch. 1–23
• Wed. October 18: part 6, ch. 1–29; part 7, ch. 1–7

And here are some additional resources you might find interesting:

• "Four Characters Under Two Tyrannies," E.L. Doctorow's review of the book for The New York Times: [link]
• John Bayley reviews the novel for The London Review of Books: [link]
• John Banville reconsiders the novel for The Guardian 20 years after its release: [link] 
• Kundera's "Art of Fiction" interview with The Paris Review takes place just as the novel is gaining international renown: [link]

Weeks 6 and 7: Heinrich Böll's "The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum" (1974)

With Heinrich Böll (1917-1985), we encounter our second Nobel Laureate of the semester, and the novel we'll be reading — The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum (1974), perhaps his best known book — is especially interesting in that it's the first book that he published after winning the prize in 1972.

Böll was a major figure in establishing West German culture in the aftermath of WWII, working as both an author and (with his wife, Annemarie Cech) a translator. His pacifist parents lamented the rise of the Nazi party and kept him out of the Hitler Youth, though eventually he was forced to serve in the German military, where he was wounded four times before eventually being apprehended by Allied forces close to the end of the war in Europe.

He took a chance on writing and in a cultural void left by the war's widespread devastation, quickly rose to national and eventually international prominence, largely due to his sympathetic depictions of the struggles of individuals set against a broader array of socio-political challenges. To the west, he was a symbol of rebirth after the scourge of Nazism, and he was tremendously popular within the Eastern Bloc for his criticisms of capitalism. Indeed, Böll's perspective was a singular and uncompromising one: while he remained a devout Catholic for his entire life he was condemned for his criticisms of the Catholic church, and his liberal ideals and disdain for authoritarianism made him enemies within West German conservative circles.

One such controversy helped shape The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum. In the early 70s, West Germany was shaken by the actions of the RAF (better known as the Baader-Meinhof Group, a cadre of leftist terrorists opposed to the government's authoritarian policies, widespread employment of former Nazis, and involvement in colonialist struggles). While reactionaries within the country called for swift justice, Böll was part of the minority of public intellectuals calling for due process the proper adherence to the country's democratic legal doctrines. In return, he was savaged in the media and branded a terrorist sympathizer. So too is the novel's titular heroine drawn into forces beyond her control and hounded by both a relentless police state and the sensationalist news media until, in short order, her simple and innocent life is destroyed.

Here's how we'll divide up our three classes on Böll:

• Fri. September 29: introduction and chapters 1–23
• Mon. October 2: chapters 24–40
• Wed. October 4: chapters 41–58

Here are some additional resources that might be helpful:

• "A Sorrow Beyond Dreams," The New York Times' 1975 review of this novel and Peter Handke's A Life Story: [link]
• Böll's 1972 Nobel Prize Commendation: [link]
• His speech upon receiving the Nobel Prize: [link]
• Böll's 1985 obituary in The New York Times: [link]
• A 2009 article in The Guardian about the loss of Böll's literary archives: [link]

Weeks 5 and 6: Bessie Head's "When Rain Clouds Gather" (1968)

The life of Bessie Head (1937–1986) was one filled with challenge and hardship, and yet these forces produced groundbreaking works of post-colonial African literature. We'll spend a few classes with her début novel, When Rain Clouds Gather (1968).

Born Bessie Amelia Emery to a white mother and a black father under unclear circumstances, she eventually entered into foster care when her mother took her own life. Rejected by her first family after the agency attempted to pass her off as white, she found a home with Nellie and George Heathcote, who she believed to be her real parents. This relative calm was shattered when her boarding school told her the truth and refused to let her go home to her family. She was devastated and turned to literature for solace.

In time, she'd graduate and after a brief flirtation with teaching settle into a life as a journalist and got involved in anti-Apartheid politics, meeting her husband, Harold Head along the way. As she grew older and started a family, she increasingly felt the pressures of South Africa's oppressive, racist social system. She applied for and got a job in neighboring Botswana, but her homeland refused to grant her a passport, only offering her a one-way exit visa, and so she left her old life behind and applied for asylum. 

In a free and independent country, her literary inspirations flourished, however for most of her life she lived a relatively poor existence: while she built a house of her own (dubbed "Rain Clouds") with the royalties from her first two books, she wrote by candlelight, lived without a phone, and only got electricity late in her life. She also struggled with mental illness that resulted in several commitments and trouble with the authorities, to the extend that when she applied for Botswanan citizenship in 1977 she was denied. Nonetheless, it was freely granted two years later, as a sign of her growing role as a cultural ambassador for her adopted homeland and during the last decade of her life, she'd be celebrated in the US, Europe, Africa, and Australia, delivering lectures and giving readings.

There's a lot of Head's own experience in When Rain Clouds Gather, including the setting of Serowe that's common to her work, and protagonist Makhaya's flight from oppression in South Africa into the challenging life of a political refugee. We'll also find idealized racial harmony as white and black characters work towards a common goal, a deft depiction of the challenges between tradition and new ways of life, and a central romance that helps drive the narrative.

Here's how our four days with the novel will break down:

• Wed. September 20: introduction and chapters 1–3
• Fri. September 22: chapters 4–6
• Mon. September 25: chapters 7–9
• Wed. September 27: chapters 10–12

And here are a few additional resources you might enjoy:

• Kirkus reviews the novel upon its release: [link]
• Alan Ramón Ward's "Traumatic Divisions: the Collective and Interpersonal in Bessie Head's When Rain Clouds Gather" in Postcolonial Text: [link]
• A brief bio from the author's website: [link]

Weeks 4 and 5: Françoise Sagan's "A Certain Smile" (1955)

How might one sum up the tumultuous life of Françoise Sagan (1935–2004)? I think this opening paragraph from a 2008 article in The Guardian does an apt job: "She was a hedonistic, tomboy beauty who drove racing cars barefoot round Saint Tropez, won literary acclaim and took so many drugs that her pet fox-terrier overdosed from sniffing her handkerchiefs."

Like Clarice Lispector, Sagan won literary acclaim at an early age with her debut novel, Bonjour Tristesse (Hello Sadness), published in 1954 when she was only 18 years old.  The book scandalized puritanical readers with its story, set during a fated summer on the French Riviera, of love triangles spanning two generations that eventually lead to the grave. Some judged it as a "vulgar, sad little book," that appealed to disaffected youth, while others saw an authentic depiction of the internal lives of a young post-war generation (n.b. protagonist Cécile is only seventeen at the time of the novel's events).

If Bonjour Tristesse is Sagan's best-known book, then why have I chosen Un Certain Sourire (A Certain Smile), her follow-up novel from 1956 instead? Simply put, if Bonjour Tristesse created the hype surrounding Sagan, then A Certain Smile proved that there was more there than mere hype. While there's a lot of common ground between the two books — both are centered on young female leads exploring a new world of love, lust, and fidelity, both cross generational lines — the general consensus seems to be that A Certain Smile is the stronger of the two (cf. the cover of our edition with a blurb from the Spectator hailing it as "decidedly better" than its predecessor). 

Like many of Sagan's novels, A Certain Smile would be adapted for the silver screen, and its title song would become a standard of sorts, covered by a diverse array of artists. Not bad for a book that a twenty year old wrote in two weeks! This raises an interesting question, as well, of genre or audience or taste, or other equally fraught terminology — the presence of a new foreword by Diane Johnson (respected contributor to The New York Review of Books, but also best known for Le Divorce, which was made into a Kate Hudson arthouse rom-com) reaffirms that as well. While some of our reading this semester falls under the aegis of heavy, serious literature (cf. Camus, Kundera) this is a book with literary merits that also appeals to more of a middlebrow audience. I say this not to prejudge the novel, but rather to more properly situate it — the much-beloved novels of Elena Ferrante are a good analogue for what The Economist called a "popsicle of a book."

Here's how we'll split up A Certain Smile over three classes:

• Wed. September 13: foreword; part 1, chapters 1–6
• Fri. September 15: part 1, chapter 7 – part 2, chapter 2
• Mon. September 18: part 3, chapters 1–6

And here are a few supplemental links for your reading pleasure:

• Kirkus reviews the novel: [link]
• Kati Nolfi reviews the book for Bookslut: [link]
• Richard Williams unpacks Sagan's life for The Guardian: [link]
• Jean Kerr parodied the novel as "Toujours Tristesse" in Harper's Bazaar not long after its release: [link]