Stendhal by Francesco Manzini (review)

This charming, idiosyncratic biography of Stendhal will not be for everyone. Of this we are forewarned by Francesco Manzini in his Introduction because, as Gide famously asserted, 'to write well about Stendhal, one would need something of his manner' (quoted p. 14). This will not be a biography for those seeking factual detail, notes Manzini, but one that strives to offer an 'intimate and intricate personal account of Stendhal's changing perspectives on the world' (p. 22), in a tone aspiring to be just as personal as Stendhal's own. There is an obvious irony in adopting a Stendhalian manner to write about Stendhal, while wanting to do so in a way that has also to be free of his influence. However, Manzini negotiates this with a light touch, showing affection for his subject and generosity towards his reader. He offers many delights along the way, for example in the analysis of Stendhal's hopeless, self-deluded passion for Métilde Dembowski (the inspiration for De l'amour): 'Stendhal's attempts to seduce Métilde involved a great deal of helplessly telling her how wonderful she was. Like Gros before her, she appears not to have liked what she heard' (p. 120). For all that, the main body of this account (Chapters 2–9 inclusive) follows a chronological progression from childhood through to the final works, albeit matching the often fragmented patterns of Stendhal's own existence in the deliberately loose internal structure of each chapter. The reader will discover along the way that the trivial and incidental can often become more compelling than the main plot. Insofar as there is a key to Stendhal's variable character, Manzini stresses that it is more in the breach than in the observance of any settled identity. If he assumed multiple names and identities, it was the possibility of constant shift between these that motivated him. Manzini shows not only how this changeability nourished Stendhal's capacity to fall helplessly in love, but also how it underpinned so much of his writing. He demonstrates that Stendhal's inability or unwillingness to find a point of emotional rest plays into the psychology of the major novels. There are pleasing, if brief, analyses of Le Rouge et le Noir and La Chartreuse de Parme in particular (Chapters 7 and 9), with some choice comments that will, among other things, make interesting starting points for tutorial discussions. Take this gem that might also (were it not for a soft edge of kindness) fit as a description of certain figures in the contemporary media spotlight: '[Fabrice is] a narcissist, very innocently so, for he is thick-skinned to the point of complete obliviousness; above all, he is cluelessly privileged, possessing a sense of entitlement that he doesn't even understand he might be expected to question' (p. 178). One emerges from this book with the sense that, whoever the 'Happy Few' are, Manzini himself is one of them. He shares that happiness fulsomely with his readers, for the better understanding of Stendhal.