Translating as ‘Hello Sadness’, Bonjour Tristesse is Françoise Sagan’s 1954 coming-of-age novel, written when the author was a mere 18 years old.
Another surprise is when Anne, an old friend of Cécile’s mother, joins them at their holiday villa. Anne epitomizes poise, elegance and upper class womanliness. She is the complete antithesis to the women that Raymond usually cavorts with: she’s cultured, clever, highly principled and distinctly cool. Although Cécile is in awe of Anne, she is fearful of what Anne represents: a threat to the carefree independence that Cécile and her father have cultivated. Following the announcement that her father and Anne are to be married, Cécile dreads the quiet, harmonious rigidity that Anne will introduce. Therefore, Cécile seeks to put a stop to the marriage by interfering in her father’s relationship.
Cécile could be loosely compared to Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye: she is tempestuous, indecisive, childish, selfish and immature yet has flashes of incisive brilliance. She convinces herself that her meddlesome plan is logical and clever, yet she knows it is despicable and dishonest. Sagan successfully manages to capture the swirling contradictions of being a 17-year-old where one minute there is strong self-assurance and the next there is a fearful child lurking just beneath the surface.
Cécile is filled with the typical self-importance of an adolescent. At times she feels superior to those around her, yet she also realises her own childish insignificance. Cécile often swaps between these two states as if she is in a constant internal battle with herself, unable to decide which role she truly embodies. Like Holden, she’s incredibly divisive and readers will either love or hate her, yet she undeniably has a certain something about her. I think she’s a fabulously realistic teenage narrator.
None of the characters evoke much reader sympathy as they are all flawed to some degree. Raymond is a laughable playboy figure, trying to maintain his youth by having flings with young and attractive (but stupid) girls; even Anne who, in Cécile’s eyes, personifies a dignified woman, comes across as overly firm, cold and lacking depth of soul. Despite this, Sagan still manages to craft a book where you want to know what happens to the characters and you actually care about the outcome, which is a pretty significant feat.
The intoxicating summer, the lazy hot days and the sound of the sea all leap from the pages via Sagan’s descriptions. Though a fairly simplistic book in terms of language and writing style, it certainly hits the mark. It represents a teenage quest to cling on to the present and hold off change, yet it is conducted in a rather slow, lazy manner. If you’re looking for something action packed, then this book isn’t for you. It’s the interaction between characters that takes precedence here.
Bonjour Tristesse is a pretty quick read at 113 pages but it successfully manages to create a realistically flawed narrator who embodies the naïve, confusing and conniving nature of a 17-year-old girl. Frightened of change, frightened of losing her lifestyle and her father’s affections, Bonjour Tristesse catalogues the jealousy, the deep emotions, the shallow nature and the passion of youth. Cécile learns the disastrous consequences of interfering in other people’s lives, yet Sagan still makes Cécile’s concerns believable and understandable.
A deceptively observant book which captures a plethora of human emotions and the complexity of relationships; this is a wonderful achievement in so few pages.