The 120 Days of Sodom by Donatien Alphonse Francois, Marquis de Sade
De Sade is supposed to have written The 120 Days of Sodom in tiny handwriting on a single long roll of paper, while imprisoned in the Bastille. It tells of four men--"libertines," De Sade calls them--who abduct a group of young teenagers, 8 boys and 8 girls, whom they take to a remote castle in order to subject them to an ordeal of humiliation, rape, torture, and ultimately murder. In addition to the young people and a kitchen staff, they bring their wives, whom they share and treat with the same cruelty, 8 men chosen exclusively for the size of their "equipment," and four old procuresses whose job it is to tell lascivious stories which the men can act out with--or upon--their victims. The plan of the book is reflected in the title: 120 days are four months. Each month is inspired in part by the stories of one of the procuresses, and the successive months are devoted to increasing violence and cruelty.
The account of the first month takes up three quarters of the book. The last three months are compressed into the last quarter of the book--one suspects that De Sade was nearing the end of his roll of paper--and instead of a fleshed out narrative the description becomes little more than a catalogue of atrocities (they even have numbers). Although the actions described are dreadful, for me the "catalogue" format in the last part of the book has the effect of neutralizing them; there is not enough realism for the events to become emotionally affecting, horrible as they would be if you were to take them literally. Instead, the effect is like a comic book (a horror comic, if you like) or the sort of cartoon in which characters are blown up by dynamite or squashed by steam rollers and emerge unscathed.
De Sade, of course, does not intend to be comic. But I do not know what he does intend, unless merely to shock. This is not an erotic book, if "erotic" refers to something by which one could be pleasantly aroused; I find nothing the least bit titillating in descriptions of consuming excrement or vomit, or inflicting pain. That people in a position of power can be unspeakably cruel is true--but we don't need De Sade to tell us that. Here and there, especially in the first month, the men offer some quasi-philosophical justifications for their behavior. For example: Nature created inequality among people, therefore to assist another or to show compassion is to violate the law of nature. They also offer some psychological claims: for example, that pleasure is enhanced by the knowledge that others are suffering (reminiscent of Aquinas' contention that the screams of the damned in hell serve to increase the bliss of the saved in heaven), or that the more criminal an action, the more pleasant it is. But such arguments are not persuasive, they are merely silly.
I have read some reader's reviews that call 120 Days a great book, a masterpiece, a convincing case for cruelty. But I found none of that, I found it merely boring. I can think of no reason why anyone should read this book.
The account of the first month takes up three quarters of the book. The last three months are compressed into the last quarter of the book--one suspects that De Sade was nearing the end of his roll of paper--and instead of a fleshed out narrative the description becomes little more than a catalogue of atrocities (they even have numbers). Although the actions described are dreadful, for me the "catalogue" format in the last part of the book has the effect of neutralizing them; there is not enough realism for the events to become emotionally affecting, horrible as they would be if you were to take them literally. Instead, the effect is like a comic book (a horror comic, if you like) or the sort of cartoon in which characters are blown up by dynamite or squashed by steam rollers and emerge unscathed.
De Sade, of course, does not intend to be comic. But I do not know what he does intend, unless merely to shock. This is not an erotic book, if "erotic" refers to something by which one could be pleasantly aroused; I find nothing the least bit titillating in descriptions of consuming excrement or vomit, or inflicting pain. That people in a position of power can be unspeakably cruel is true--but we don't need De Sade to tell us that. Here and there, especially in the first month, the men offer some quasi-philosophical justifications for their behavior. For example: Nature created inequality among people, therefore to assist another or to show compassion is to violate the law of nature. They also offer some psychological claims: for example, that pleasure is enhanced by the knowledge that others are suffering (reminiscent of Aquinas' contention that the screams of the damned in hell serve to increase the bliss of the saved in heaven), or that the more criminal an action, the more pleasant it is. But such arguments are not persuasive, they are merely silly.
I have read some reader's reviews that call 120 Days a great book, a masterpiece, a convincing case for cruelty. But I found none of that, I found it merely boring. I can think of no reason why anyone should read this book.