Salambo

Rating:
Summary: La Vie Ennuyeuse
Review: "Delenda est Carthago! Delenda est Carthago!"("Carthage must be destroyed!") were some of the best-remembered words of Marcus Porcius Cato, a senator of Rome during the second century BC. He got his wish at the end of the Third Punic War, when Carthage effectively ceased to exist. I used to feel a certain sympathy for the Carthaginians. Then I read Salammbo.

I first encountered this novel at the impressionable age of 13, and had no idea what to make of it. I had to gain a lot more knowledge (and cynicism) before I could approach it with anything but nausea. It is not a pretty book, nor do the actions of the protagonists make much sense, until one takes them in the context of Flaubert. He did do a good deal of historical research, but he was, as A.J. Krailsheimer points out in the introduction, also an enthusiastic student of de Sade. This novel is not simply about violence (although the reader will need hip-waders to get through the gore); it is about the torture of futility. It brims with sensual enticements, only to see every effort come to disaster. Even Salammbo herself is doomed by the very thing she wants most: she only wishes to become an initiate of Tanit, but her wish leads to her downfall.

All that said, I had some fairly significant troubles with the plot, and that started in the very first chapter. The soldiers are rioting through the garden, and Salammbo comes out of her room to scold them (in tongues) for destroying her pet fish. Why, I said to myself, does a father who wants to marry his daughter off well leave her without guards in a place where a bunch of drunken mercenaries can get at her? Once I started reading critically, things went downhill from there. The characters seem to have no control over what happens to them, so they struggle on through an atmosphere of dreamy, cynical futility until the bloody finale. I kept wanting to give someone, preferably Flaubert, a swift kick in the pants.

Rating:
Summary: for guys
Review: "Delenda est Carthago! Delenda est Carthago!"("Carthage must be destroyed!") were some of the best-remembered words of Marcus Porcius Cato, a senator of Rome during the second century BC. He got his wish at the end of the Third Punic War, when Carthage effectively ceased to exist. I used to feel a certain sympathy for the Carthaginians. Then I read Salammbo.

I first encountered this novel at the impressionable age of 13, and had no idea what to make of it. I had to gain a lot more knowledge (and cynicism) before I could approach it with anything but nausea. It is not a pretty book, nor do the actions of the protagonists make much sense, until one takes them in the context of Flaubert. He did do a good deal of historical research, but he was, as A.J. Krailsheimer points out in the introduction, also an enthusiastic student of de Sade. This novel is not simply about violence (although the reader will need hip-waders to get through the gore); it is about the torture of futility. It brims with sensual enticements, only to see every effort come to disaster. Even Salammbo herself is doomed by the very thing she wants most: she only wishes to become an initiate of Tanit, but her wish leads to her downfall.

All that said, I had some fairly significant troubles with the plot, and that started in the very first chapter. The soldiers are rioting through the garden, and Salammbo comes out of her room to scold them (in tongues) for destroying her pet fish. Why, I said to myself, does a father who wants to marry his daughter off well leave her without guards in a place where a bunch of drunken mercenaries can get at her? Once I started reading critically, things went downhill from there. The characters seem to have no control over what happens to them, so they struggle on through an atmosphere of dreamy, cynical futility until the bloody finale. I kept wanting to give someone, preferably Flaubert, a swift kick in the pants.

Rating:
Summary: A blood bath with little feeling.
Review: Death, mayhem, blood, torture, and no sympathetic characters; except, perhaps, the poor. The characters are petty, dishonest, conniving, and superstitious. The forward suggested that Flaubert had something that he needed to get out of his system, with this writing, in order to move on to better things; and I think that is true. But the book is probably more representative of the nature of most wars than say the Lord of the Rings, or such. No one is really fighting, here, for a value system or such and war is hell as Flaubert enthusiastically depicts; no glory here. Although Flaubert hoped for an historical fiction, the forward claims he falls far short of it and the book should be read as a simple fiction.
Salammbo didnft draw me in until the last fourth, even then it wasnft moving, but that might have been Flaubertfs intention (or the translatorfs fault); the lack of pathos or sentimentality part. The first three fourths was a bit tedious or maybe my exposure to sci-fi in my teens made it all blaze; it reminded me of bad sci-fi.

The love affair(s) were undeveloped and not believable. Some of the actions of these born killers is not credible either.

So maybe the two finger thing was symbolic of civilization's subtle conforming of the masses, and the priests the driving force behind taming the barbarian in all of us as well as those outside. Being part of a civiization/society was seen as a privilage until Rousseau flip flopped the whole concept and made the barbarian the noble one. Okay priviliage is based on fear and oppresion justified by religious superstition. A lot of
sci-fi books have symbolism to ponder.

Rating:
Summary: Worthy of a wider audience
Review: Even though I agree with the reviewers who stated that this novel is nothing like Madame Bovary, I tend to see this as a strength of a talented world writer. In this novel Carthage is in its death throes as an imperial nation---eternally at war and unable to meet the daily needs of its citizens. They are forced to believe in an ecstatic religious cult that demands the sacrifice of humans. Flaubert's language in this novel even mirrors the internal frenzy of the citizens who always have to be prepared for yet another war. (I finished this novel in one day, I could not put it down.)
Salammbo needs to be read as a novel; not as a work of history in order to truly understand what Flaubert intentions were.

Rating:
Summary: A stirring mixture of war and myth
Review: Flaubert's _Salammbo_ is an often stirring mixture and intertwining of the history of the Punic Wars and of the myths held by the people of ancient Carthage. The novel begins and ends with a banquet held in the gardens of Hamilcar, the Carthaginian leader. The mercenaries are feasting in these gardens at the beginning and a wedding feast is being held at the end, with an important leader of the Barbarians as "the special guest of honor."

The book describes in great, often gory detail the horrors and the carnage of war. The gods must be appeased if there is no food or if the soldiers are dying of thirst. These rituals include children being sacrificed with, perhaps, Hamilcar's son being one of the victims. Cannibilism is an alternative
to mass starvation. Torture is the sport of kings and the masses alike.

In the middle of all these goings on is Hamilcar's daughter, the lovely and exotically beautiful Salammbo. Her conniving to recapture the Zaimph from Matho, the Libyan leader of the Barbarians, includes some of the most erotic passage in 19th century literature. Her pet serpent figures very prominently in these scenes. A priest advises Salammbo that without reobtaining the Zaimph, an important holy relic in their possession, Carthage is doomed to defeat.

Having previously read Flaubert's _Madame Bovary_ and _Sentimental Education_, I believed them to be totally different from _Salammbo_, the former two being romantic melodramas and the latter a historic war novel. This is incorrect. All three novels focus on a major female character, who for better or for worse, forms key relationships, romantic or otherwise, with the novels' lead male characters, and which ultimately determine the shape and the final outcome of each of these books. "All is fair in love and war" may be a cliche, but in _Salammbo_ it becomes the ultimate truth.

Rating:
Summary: A bloodbath
Review: I found this quite a shock - very very different from "Madame Bovary". To sum up, it tells the story of a revolt against ancient Carthage by mercenaries. The character Salammbo flits in and out of the story, which is in the main devoted to war and its consequences. Flaubert spares nothing in his descriptions of the bestialities of war - it's blood, gore, and torture all the way. Given that, I was thankful that the book was comparatively short, as the descriptions become more and more harrowing as the story goes on. I suppose that Flaubert was trying to present war in a non-romantic way - that it is a nasty, foul business. The introduction to the novel states that Flaubert prided himself in his research, and that he attempted to make the novel as "realistic" in its descriptions as possible, using ancient texts as his primary source. I found this at times difficult to believe, as the elaborate descriptions of Carthage seemed to me to be closer to Rider Haggard or even Tolkien than a strict historical description. And there are passages of pure fantasy - the mystic veil, and Salammbo's scene with the huge snake (you don't need to be a budding Fellini to sort out the subtle hidden meaning of that). However, "Salammbo" is a far better and more convincing work than any of the juvenile garbage churned out by Christian Jacq. As for the view that it was all horrible in the ancient world and that when Christianity arrived everything was OK, a basic reading of history (perhaps starting with the Crusades) should cure that particular fantasy.

Rating:
Summary: A bloodbath
Review: I found this quite a shock - very very different from "Madame Bovary". To sum up, it tells the story of a revolt against ancient Carthage by mercenaries. The character Salammbo flits in and out of the story, which is in the main devoted to war and its consequences. Flaubert spares nothing in his descriptions of the bestialities of war - it's blood, gore, and torture all the way. Given that, I was thankful that the book was comparatively short, as the descriptions become more and more harrowing as the story goes on. I suppose that Flaubert was trying to present war in a non-romantic way - that it is a nasty, foul business. The introduction to the novel states that Flaubert prided himself in his research, and that he attempted to make the novel as "realistic" in its descriptions as possible, using ancient texts as his primary source. I found this at times difficult to believe, as the elaborate descriptions of Carthage seemed to me to be closer to Rider Haggard or even Tolkien than a strict historical description. And there are passages of pure fantasy - the mystic veil, and Salammbo's scene with the huge snake (you don't need to be a budding Fellini to sort out the subtle hidden meaning of that). However, "Salammbo" is a far better and more convincing work than any of the juvenile garbage churned out by Christian Jacq. As for the view that it was all horrible in the ancient world and that when Christianity arrived everything was OK, a basic reading of history (perhaps starting with the Crusades) should cure that particular fantasy.

Rating:
Summary: Savagery, B. C.
Review: It has become quite fashionable among the intellectually gifted among us to sit in their comfortable 21st Century chairs and decry all of the horrors committed over the centuries in the name of Christianity. They are outraged! Of course, the message of Christianity--peace, love of one's neighbor, forgiveness--is conveniently forgotten, as is the idea that men, fundamentally, are flawed, and destined to commit such atrocities. It would certainly never occur to these mental giants that Christianity has been perhaps the greatest civilizing force in the history of the world. To make this point, therefore, it would seem to be instructional to take a look at the state of mankind as it existed before Christ was born. Possibly, a little perspective might be gained.

A good place to start would be Salammbo, a fictionalized version of a little known historical event: the revolt of the Carthaginian mercenaries against Carthage at the end of the first Punic War, in 238 B. C. True, it is a novel, but, based on Flaubert's reputation, his extensive research, and his insistence that everything in it is based on fact, it can be safely assumed that his novel is historically accurate. It is a remarkable story.

The mercenaries return to Carthage from Sicily demanding their pay. The Carthaginians are unable or unwilling to do this, and the story opens as the Carthaginians attempt to appease them by throwing a great feast for them. The mercenaries, made up of men from many different nations, amuse themselves by smashing things, looting what they can, fighting each other, burning trees, shooting at helpless, caged elephants and lions, and, when a group of them think they've been poisoned, attacking and murdering helpless slaves. The feasting and drinking continue, uninterrupted even as charred, dead monkeys occassionally fall among them from above.

The appeasement works, temporarily, but a short time later the mercenaries recognize that they are the only armed force in the area, and that Carthage and its riches stands before them unopposed. Matho, the gigantic Libyan, is their leader, and his urge to conquer is fed to a large degree by his lust for Salammbo, daughter of the Carthaginian general Hamilcar. The war is on.

Salammbo, while only a worthless female, is nevertheless a member of one of the noblest families in Carthage. She is therefore brought up as a virgin priestess, trained by a eunuch, and attended by various female slaves. Her days consist of fasting, sacrifice, and prayer to her gods: the Baals, and the fearful Moloch. Her spiritual life is defined by symbols and omens: the health of her pet snake is a signal her gods are happy; its ill-health, their displeasure. There is universal despair when a sacred veil is lost; all believe they are doomed.

Hamilcar returns and forms a new army, and intially makes some successful forays out of the city. The war is a bloody, brutal, unforgiving, horrible nightmare. There is no quarter, and no honor. Prisoners' legs are broken to prevent them from escaping. Less important prisoners are crucified or simply murdered. Heads are lopped off and thrown in the enemy's camp. Part of Matho's army is starved to death when they are trapped in a canyon. They cannibalize each other. Hamilcar finally shows mercy and allows a small percentage out. He offers half of them freedom: the half that survive a final bloody fight among themselves. But Hamilcar lies. The winning half are then stabbed to death by vengeful Carthaginians.

The tide turns against the outnumbered Carthaginians, and they are forced back into their city, and besieged. Their water is cut off. The food runs out. Dogs, birds and horses disappear. Cannibalism breaks out again. First it is the prisoners who are killed. Then the slaves. Then the sick and the old. They cry for water. They cry for mercy. They decide they have displeased their god, Moloch, who is symbolized in their city by a great hollow stone trunk, with outstretched arms, and with the head of a bull. They build a roaring fire in him, and, one by one, they hideously sacrifice their terrified children.

And their fortunes change. It rains. The mercenaries' siege engines bog down in the mud. An unexpected ally appears. The Carthaginians eventually vanquish their foe, and each citizen is allowed to exact their revenge on Matho, who has survived only to be hounded and harried to his death through the streets of Carthage.

This fascinating and exciting novel gives us a compelling and accurate view of the ancient world crystallized in a long-ago, almost forgotten event. It was a brutal, ugly place. Slavery was the rule, not the exception. Women and children were chattel. The strong ruled with an iron, cruel hand. Mercy and pity were looked upon as weaknesses. Justice was rare and arbitrary. Their gods were in the shape of indifferent animals; vengeful, and demanding of sacrifice. It must be remembered also that Carthage was not some unusual backwater, but one of the two greatest civilizations on earth at the time.

We should keep this in mind when we so carelessly deride Christianity, and remember that our comfort is derived from the knowledge that we are protected by societies which have accepted its truths as their foundation.