Andre Gide - The Immoralist (1902)

As mentioned in a prior post, my path into Decadent literature was partially through reading Modernist works by openly - or as open as they could be - gay men. French avant-garde author Andre Gide (1869 - 1951) was one such. He had an additional draw in that he influenced modern masters like Sartre and Camus. The Immoralist (1902) was the first Gide novel I’d read (Modern Library edition, translated by Richard Howard).

Aside from being a brilliant writer, Gide's life - even in overview - is a fascinating story of a man who continually found himself outside the norms of society and culture norms. A gay man who enjoyed an active romantic life, despite the bigotry of the time, he married a woman in an apparently asexual relationship and had a brief affair with Oscar Wilde in 1895. After a period of intellectual inactivity, he founded a literary magazine in 1908. In 1916, when Gide was 47, he left his wife for a 15-year-old boy. They were together for 11 years and travelled through Africa. This young man, Marc Allegret, went on to become a successful screenwriter and movie director, producing more than fifty films. 

In 1923, Gide had what sounds like a one-night stand with Elisabeth van Rysselberghe, the daughter of Theo van Rysselberghe, a well-known artist of the time who did the 1907 portrait of Gide shown at the start of this post. It was Gide’s only sexual experience with a woman and produced a child. Elisabeth left her husband for Gide, despite the relationship being platonic and there being no marriage. 

After his travels in Africa, Gide wrote about the cruelty of French colonialism there and helped shape the anti-colonialism movement. Then, in the 1930s, Gide endorsed communism in response to its perceived idealism. After being invited to visit Soviet Russia, however, he became an outspoken critic. He wrote: "No one can begin to imagine the tragedy of humanity, of morality, of religion and of freedoms in the land of communism, where man has been debased beyond belief." His vehement stance caused a rift with many members of his avant-garde circle, just as his written endorsement of pederasty drew wider public disapproval.

So, this is all very nice, but what about the book? From what I understand, all Gide's books deal with the conflict of self-expression and societal expectations, a tension any gay man can relate to deeply. It was refreshing to read a novel addressing issues of identity that are relevant to me as a gay man, written by a brilliant and successful gay man who must have felt the difficulty of being his authentic self as much - if not more - than I do/did. And, while The Immoralist is necessarily veiled in its approach to sexuality, it's impossible to miss that Gide's protagonist - Michel - has an active sex life. 

SPOILERS IN THIS PARAGRAPH The plot of The Immoralist concerns a sickly bookworm awakening to the joy and pleasure of life. As he discovers and pursues his potential as a man, his new-found freedom and self-determination physically alter him. He turns from a doddering weakling of a boy into a robust, sexy, and sexual man. The focus of his career also shifts from burying himself in the study of ruins and ancient civilizations to placing those civilizations within a modern context. The present now means more to him than the past. However, the boundaries of this freedom are ambiguous, and the morality of it remains in question. Michel's exploration of his autonomy leads to both amazing and chilling truths. For example, he tires his ill wife who then weakens and dies. His reaction to her death surfaces questions of what we owe to other human beings (or whether we owe them anything) as we grow and change.

At the end of The Immoralist Michel has achieved a degree of freedom few of us can hope to attain, yet he has no idea what to do with it. This question of “what now?” creates an unbearable psychological crisis. "I am at a moment in my life past which I can no longer see my way," he tells several friends he has summoned to his aid at the start of the book. "The capacity to get free is nothing; the capacity to be free, that is the task." He has no intention of going back and does not regret anything, but this does not make moving forward any easier. Perhaps the nature of true freedom is a sense of uncertainly and angst underlying the joy it brings? If so, why do we pursue it? It's obvious how such questions lead to Sartre, Camus, and movements like existentialism.

These questions of freedom resonate especially loudly within the pseudo-coming out story at the heart of The Immoralist and its plot. Gide's portrayal of Michel's journey advocates freedom, but it also confronts the implications such freedom has beyond the scope of oneself. Big questions with no easy answers. This was a truly thought-provoking book, I enjoyed it a great deal, and I plan to read more if his work.