Et te voici permise à tout homme par Éliette Abécassis

Abstract

“Constant first labeled his position ‘liberal’ in 1795. He and Germaine de Staël were the first in France to use this term to define a political stance” (76). Vincent’s study correspondingly emphasizes the contributions of Constant (1767–1830)— partly in association with Staël—to the development of political liberalism in France (as opposed to other putative fathers of the liberal tradition, such as Guizot). Vincent also highlights Constant’s influence on, and affinities with, subsequent exponents of liberalism: “There are marked similarities [...] between Constant’s stance and that of his famous successor Alexis de Tocqueville” (63). Throughout his book, Vincent associates close readings of Constant’s voluminous political works (along with his famous novel, Adolphe) with the contextualization of his public and private life. In this perspective, the biographical details are not secondary. As a partial outsider (a Protestant of Swiss origin), Constant was at times a peripheral observer, at others a full participant in French political life. Constant’s pragmatic political stance, originally developed in response to the upheavals of the Revolutionary period, subsequently progressed into more sophisticated theoretical formulations, partly due to the personal influence of those with whom he regularly interacted and corresponded. It therefore comes as no surprise to find that he regularly used, along with Staël, such literary keywords as sensibilité and enthousiasme, or that he emphasized the role and importance of “character” at both the personal and national levels: “Constant was always attentive to how historical context formed character” (206). Increasingly wary of Rousseau’s pronouncements about the fundamental goodness of uncorrupted human nature, Constant sought ways to curb the apparently inexhaustible capacity for fanaticism (whether religious or political). His reiterated calls for moderation , for upholding “the protection of rights, the rule of law, and the division and balance of political sovereignty” (194) required courage during a historical phase marked by rapid and radical institutional shifts. Since Constant’s writings and political activities spanned the Revolutionary, the Napoleonic, and the Restoration periods, during which the governmental and constitutional systems of France underwent several permutations, he often had to defend the basic principles of liberalism (pluralism, separation of powers, civil rights, religious toleration, etc.) against a new and different set of threats. Vincent effectively weaves the details of Constant’s biography into the broader historical background, producing a richly-documented work that will be of interest to literary scholars as well as political scientists. Western Washington University Edward Ousselin Creative Works edited by Nathalie Degroult ABÉCASSIS, ÉLIETTE. Et te voici permise à tout homme. Paris: Albin Michel, 2011. ISBN 978-2-226-22969-4. Pp. 198. 17 a. In Orthodox Judaism, the wife is sacred, hallowed, protected until she no longer wishes to be married. Such a decision may condemn her to an unfair treatment . Anna Attal, the narrator, legally divorced from Simon, mother of eightyear -old Naomi, and a religious bookstore employee, meets Sacha, a divorced 206 FRENCH REVIEW 86.1 man of forty, photographer, father of a boy about to be bar mitzvah. Sacha is the son of Holocaust survivors, and had been married to a non-Jew; Anna grew up in a strictly observant family. When Simon presents himself to the Yom Kippur eve dinner sitting between Anna and their daughter, he declares that Anna will never have her “guet,” the religious divorce, which only the husband can grant. Simon’s use of blackmail worsens throughout the novel. If Sacha is Anna’s redemption, Simon is her living hell. Anna struggles with her new love and her old religious beliefs. She and Sacha are soulmates, certain that their lives are connected : “un fil inexplicable enlaçait nos vies, comme s’il n’y avait que nous deux, qui avions échappé à ce singulier tropisme: ce fil rouge qui nous reliait tout en nous séparant” (62). Simon, outwardly pure and inwardly hypocritical, has completely neglected all the commandments of a religious husband to his wife: he has abused her, mocked her, but this is not what the community sees—he is very good at pretense. The reaction of those around Anna is typical. She is anathema; the blame for the failed marriage is all hers: “Moi, j’étais comme...