Four Novels About Being and Loneliness
Some of the most ambitious, touching novels I’ve ever read do not narrate events touching the lives of many people or nations, but focus instead on the complex psychology of a single character who struggles with finding a reason to live. With the development of the field of psychology and philosophical movements that dealt with the human condition, literary texts that explored what happened inside the human mind and how it justifies itself became more and more common. Here are a few novels that deal primarily with the inherent isolation of the human mind:
- Chateaubriand, René
Published in 1802, René by French writer Chateaubriand narrates the sad life story of the titular protagonist from his point of view. The novella starts with René — who now lives with the Natchez indigenous peoples of Louisiana — finally revealing details about his past life in France. There, he had a solitary childhood because his mother passed away when he was young and his father was a distant, cold person. Only his sister Amélie can offer him any affection.
After his father’s death, he obtains an inheritance that allows him to travel throughout Europe to see magnificent natural and human-made landmarks. However, this does not fix his perennial state of melancholy. Just as he was considering suicide, his sister Amélie comes to his rescue. However, she soon became a reclusive nun. Their close, almost incestual relationship comes to an end and he flees to the New World.
René is an early example of Romanticism in French literature and as such inspired later writers who also romanticized strong emotions and melancholy. Furthermore, it addresses what would become a pressing issue in European philosophy in the second half of the century: what is the point of life?
The novel does not tell us much about René’s wonderful trips to Greece and Italy, but instead reveals that he is a troubled soul struggling to find satisfaction. Chateaubriand’s elegant prose enhances the acuteness of René’s troubles.
2. Miguel de Unamuno, Mist (Niebla)
Spanish writer Miguel de Unamuno was inspired by existentialist philosophers of the late 19th century such as Kierkegaard for his 1914 novel Mist. The philosophical intentions of the novel are not hidden at all — Unamuno reminds us at various points, through his dialogues, monologues and narration, that the point of his writing is to make us think about the meaning of life.
The plot, too, pushes this agenda. Augusto Pérez is a lonely bachelor who suddenly decides he loves a piano teacher named Eugenia after seeing her walking in the street. Why does he love her? Frankly, he does not know — he barely remembers what she looks like, at first — but has decided she is to be his mission. His plans are complicated by Eugenia’s reluctance to entertain him, even when he pays her debt in an effort to attract her attention.
While this is disappointing, Augusto soon finds that his first love has allowed for love as an idea to flourish in him and he soon falls for one of the girls who irons his clothes. This blooming affair is halted by Eugenia’s sudden interest for Augusto, only for her to abandon him days before the wedding and flee with her lazy ex-boyfriend. A devastated Augusto considers suicide and visits Unamuno, with whom he has a spat — Unamuno, then, decides Augusto must die. The novel ends with a short eulogy by his dog Orfeo, who reflects on the human condition and on the domestication of dogs by humans.
Although Unamuno himself is the acknowledged narrator and we get to see the thought process of some secondary characters, the novel undoubtedly places the spotlight on the plight of Augusto. (Coincidentally, like René, Augusto never quite recovered from losing his mother.) Augusto’s desperation to give his life meaning by conquering a woman who couldn’t be less amazed by his persona speaks of how people sometimes employ love as a raison-d’être to the point of forcing it. Additionally, Unamuno’s playful acknowledgement of his role as a creator is a reminder of the writing process.
3. Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea (La Nausée)
The 1938 novel Nausea by Sartre was one of his earliest works, and such seems to miss much of the political attitudes Sartre is known for. Nonetheless, the novel is not quite as defeatist as it might seem at first read.
The novel is in the form of a diary by historian Antoine Roquentin who spends most of his days at a library in a town of Bouville (a fictional town that ressembles the French port town of Le Havre) doing research for his biography on a minor historical figure. His diary entries reveal just how empty and dull most of his days are and how much disdain he feels towards the urban bourgeoisie. Only at the end of the novel he realizes that he ought to write a novel instead of a history book because art possesses the ability to transcend time and truly touch people. This ending very much echoes that of Proust’s famous novel In Search of Lost Time.
Some analyses of Sartre’s novel suggest it might be one of the earliest examples of the dullness of the ‘postmodern condition.’ Indeed, the frustration and agony of Roquentin are present from the start of the work until his epiphany near the end. Like René, Roquentin had traveled the world extensively, and he had even found love, but soon enough life seemed to him monotone. The inability to reach satisfaction is once again the thread joining these literary texts.
4. Michel Houellebecq, Submission (Soumission)
Controversial French author Michel Houellebecq released his (also) controversial novel Submission in January 2015. What was so controversial about this one? Well, to start, critics saw its dystopian prediction of a European Union in the middle of the 21st century controlled by an Islamic leader as Islamophobic and particularly distasteful given the wave of terrorist attacks happening in Europe at the time (one, the shooting at the Charlie Hebdo satirical magazine happening exactly the day his novel was released).
And yet, while the political fantasies Houellebecq brings to table are certainly worth paying attention to and criticizing, what interests me the most is how this novel echoes concerns put forward by Sartre and Camus nearly a century earlier. Like the other protagonists in this list, middle-aged literature professor François is deeply unsatisfied with his life. In spite of being a rather appreciated Huysmans expert in French academic circles and having a romantic relationship (one that seems promising, at least), his days consist of doing his job and returning home to frozen meals and uninteresting news reports on TV.
Where does François find meaning? While René and Augusto found it through love and Roquentin through art, François found it through religion — or so it seems. Converting to Islam in this new Muslim Europe would give him a number of perks that he was certainly tempted by, but who is to say if it wasn’t the Nietzschian interpretation of Islam that his converted boss recited to him what convinced him? The ending leaves that a little unclear. What’s not unclear, however, is how little the issue of finding meaning to one’s life has changed in the last century or so. Literature continues to reflect anxieties over finding a reason to be, particularly when we find ourselves alone with our thoughts.
