Justine (Alexandria)

If your sentiments following reading of this work are closer to those expressed in the second Spotlighted review (the reader who "forces" himself to the end of this first novel and then apparently quits), be forewarned or reassured by the reminder that this 4-part narrative, of which "Justine" is only the first quarter, did not begin to "grab" me until I was well into the second volume. Initially I was attracted to the philosophical hype (Durrell's claim that he's representing modern love in a quantam, post-relativity space-time world), but soon that "bait" became insignificant to the love story, the author's love affair with a cross-section of humanity (as represented by the microcosmic Alexandria), conveying knowledge of the ways of the heart no less intimate than that of the most private personal relationships.Rereading "Justine," I'm frankly knocked out all over again by the strength and fullness of Durrell's passionate prose (more "poetic" than his poetry). It's unfortunate if he's not being read as much any more because his is an extraordinary talent and a unique voice--not hamstrung by the rebellion against Puritannism that characterizes so much American literature, not so exquisitely subjective, abstract and effete like much French writing, not mired in theological questions of goodness and evil like Germanic, Russian and Nordic literature. And he's not restrained and pretentious, covering up as much as he exposes, like Ondaatje, an otherwise kindred spirit. In his all-out, unashamedly candid and relentless examination of the many faces of love and in turn the writer as quintessential "lover" with stakes no less than the writer's own soul, his only equal in my experience is D. H. Lawrence. Granted, there is in Durrell's narrator the "lost-generation" pose of someone suspicious of relationships, disillusioned by failed loves, insecure about his own regenerative capacities--and there's the flimsy facade of self-referential modernism (or post-modernism, if you prefer)--but don't let these peripheral matters fool you: Durrell is a true, full-blown Romantic, not only one of the last such writers but one of the best."The Alexandrian Quartet" is capable of captivating and transporting you to a place that you've never been and which perhaps never was, but at its completion you'll be fully convinced that you were there. Even as I was reading the novel as a college student, I knew better than to wish to go to the "real" Alexandria, which is less a geographical location than a metaphor for consciousness itself, that place where desire meets its true objects. (Because I wanted to share part of that place with my daughter, I named her after one of the characters in the novel--Melissa. Happy to say she did not take up the same profession as Durrell's Melissa.)

I’ve been hearing about The Alexandria Quartet ever since I was a teenager in the 60s. When it was published in the late 1950s it was immediately hailed as a great intellectual achievement. It was a very popular book among the generation just older than mine, but by the time I came along Durrell was a bit passé and the new intellectual darlings were the freewheeling satirists Joseph Heller and Terry Southern. However, THE ALEXANDRIA QUARTET always had a devoted following and has never been out-of-print. Jan Morris, in this edition’s superb introduction, opines that it is unlikely to ever be. I don’t think I could state anything here that could be more helpful than Morris’s Introduction. She praises the book, but also warns the reader that Durrell can be outrageously pretentious at times. (She hits the nail on the head when she writes about Durrell’s flashily arcane vocabulary.)I had difficulty getting into the book, but I kept reading. I’m glad I did. It seems at first to be a lot of poetic stream-of-conscious meanderings, but gradually the pieces start to fit together and the reader sees how the characters are interrelated. Most of what happens is beneath the surface, with characters trying figure out what the other characters are thinking; there are few real events in the novel, and the major ones take place offstage.I was reluctant to begin a multi-volume work. This one is different. JUSTINE easily stands alone. It is complete within itself. I never had the feeling that it was a “prequel.” According to Lawrence’s introduction of the second volume, of the four books, only the last volume CLEA is a sequel. He compares the first three volumes to siblings, rather than sequels. The first three all deal with the same characters at the same time, but are told from different points of view. JUSTINE is pretty dazzling. I’m eager to find out whether Durrell can sustain this level of writing. Five stars.

Sometimes the plot was hard to follow or even hard to find as it was immersed in florid imagery and poetic language. Many readers would find this distracting or even maddening but I'm not a fan of minimalist writing and embrace authors in love with description like Thomas Wolfe. If you're not, don't read it. Many of the main characters seemed elusive, even Justine. The main character was the city of Alexandria. The overwrought writing style added to the development of the city as a character as I felt I knew it intimately, in its beauty, intrigue, and horrors. Some of the descriptions are unforgettable. Today's problems in Egypt underscore that Alexandria is a city that was, not is. So this writing is almost a historical document of a time and place lost in the sands of religious and political extremism. In spite of a vocabulary that afforded me the opportunity to overuse the dictionary feature of my Kimble more than any other book I have read, I still found it somewhat a page turner as I was compelled to learn more about the cypher that was Justine and her haunting Nessim. The story is related by a narrator, though he seems to step out of the "I" role into a more detached viewpoint at times, who never identifies himself by name but becomes a central character as he inhabits the lives of Justine, Nessim and Melissa. These characters could not exist in today's Egypt. But they are intriguing. I wonder why this story has not been made into a Casablanca style movie?

Second attempt at this highly acclaimed novel but this time I didn't struggle through to the end. I didn't appreciate Justine many years ago, and this time I had the confidence to put it down as perhaps too high-brow for me - I just enjoy a good read!

This is not an easy read and I struggled at times, but persevered until the end.

AlexandrieL'écriture se substitue à la meilleure caméra : rien n'échappe à l'analyse, et — avantage sur le cinéma — on peut poser le livre pour laisser l'émotion descendre en soi.Ce que j'écris ici, vaut moins pour les protagonistes du QUATUOR d'ALEXANDRIE (dont je ne connais ou crois ne connaître que le premier : JUSTINE) que pour la description poignante des quartiers pauvres d'Alexandrie.Justine appartient à une petite communauté juive venue de Russie (fuyant sans doute les pogromes) et qui a trouvé refuge dans les quartiers pauvres de la ville. La misère de son environnement, enfant, est insoutenable. Là où elle dort, le sol est en terre battue et c'est là que circule la nuit une vaste colonie de rats.Le curriculum vitae de Justine est lacunaire. Au début du roman, belle femme juive intelligente, elle est marrée à Nissim, richissime banquiercopte. C'est à l'occasion d'une conférence sur l'art du narrateur (instituteur ici) que ce dernier fait la connaissance des époux, de culture européenne. Un flash back nous apprend que Justine a été mariée à un écrivain connu qui lui a consacré/dédié un livre : MOEURS, (dont Durrell nous livre des fragments) des noms comme l'Adlonsont mentionnés (l’Adlon fut le plus beau palace de Berlin).Elle a voyagé en Europe.Un FLASH FORWARD dans le présent la trouve au bras de Nissim (le banquier qui a un palais et une Rolls Royce), mari qui ferme les yeux sur toutes ses frasques et aventures sexuelles, passées et présente de Justine. Elle est néanmoins surveillée d'un oeil pourqu'il ne lui arrive pas malheur et, dans le présent du récit, elle est retrouvée dans un bordel du quartier misérable où les prostituées qui n'ont pas plus de 10 ans, sont en présence d'un gros matelot.Que fait exactement Justine en ce lieu ? Veut-elle revivre le viol qu'elle a connu, petite fille dans ce même quartier ou bien simplement « souffrir en voyeur ».J'ai encore lu une vingtaine de pages (au milieu du livre) : impossible d’aller plus loin. Mais avant de ranger le roman sur une étagère, ai lu ses 10 dernières pages — une lettre de Cléa au narrateur désormais à Corfou où il s’est retiré pour écrire — : Justine est en Israël, dans un kibboutz, en jeans, ses mains autrefois si belles sont méconnaissables.L'écriture de Durell est maîtrisée, certes, mais le personnage difficile à cerner : trop de "non-dits". Le profil de Justine est si composite que l'on en vient à se demander si elle a existé (comme existent Anna Karenine ou Madame Bovary) ou si elle n'est pas plutôt un patchwork fantasmé de Durrell.Le paroxysme du malaise pour moi fut la mise en pièce d'un chameau vivant — simplement épuisé de fatigue —dans la rue, aux yeux de tous et des enfants.On ne lit pas pour souffrir : je ne poursuivrai pas cette lecture.

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I've just finished reading this book for the first time. As a middlebrow I realised early on that there was no point wondering exactly what Durrell meant - just read on, otherwise one would never get through it. The book is aimed at far more intelligent and cultured people than myself. (It would be nice if there were an annotated "For Dummies" edition - but perhaps it would be impossibly long. I'd probably buy it though.) What I got out of this primarily was the depiction of Justine as a woman who inspires spiritual love. It reminds me of the pre-Raphaelites who are generally denounced as pornographers nowadays. It's surprising to me that Durrell is not denounced similarly. Certainly the Justine character is hyper-erotic. Perhaps the characters in the story are mythical rather than realistically human. Anyway I've ordered Vol 2 - "Balthazar".