El pobre Goriot

Por Honoré de Balzac

«Aunque escrita hace casi doscientos años, El pobre Goriot ofrece algunos elementos que son tan actuales que parece mentira que Balzac pudiera ponerlos por escrito con semejante claridad y brillantez.» Solodelibros

«Balzac es la novela hecha hombre; es la novela en su máxima tensión posible; es, como quien dice, la novela definitiva.» Roland Barthes

París, 1817. En una pensión «de clase media», regentada con economía por una viuda, coinciden los desechos de la sociedad parisina y los jóvenes que sueñan con entrar en ella. En el último piso, el más barato, viven puerta por puerta un anciano que amasó una fortuna fabricando fideos y que, habiendo casado espléndidamente a sus hijas, ahora es menospreciado por ellas, y un estudiante de provincias que apenas tiene para unos guantes amarillos con los que triunfar en un baile. Un tercer huésped, el misterioso Vautrin, que detecta la ambición del estudiante, le propone un tortuoso crimen que podría enriquecerlo de la noche a la mañana.

El pobre Goriot (1835), una de las novelas más justamente célebres de la historia de la literatura, enfrenta a dos hombres en los dos extremos de la vida: el anciano que la concluye en la ingratitud y la ruina y el joven que se abre a ella resistiéndose a aceptar que habrá de elegir entre la virtud y la corrupción. «¡Ay, sépalo el lector, este drama no es una ficción ni una novela! –dice Balzac en las primeras páginas–. , ¡es tan verdadero que todos pueden reconocer los elementos que hay en él en su casa y quizá en su corazón!»

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Alba Editorial
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 8 dic 2011
• ISBN: 9788484286752

Honoré de Balzac

Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) was a French novelist, short story writer, and playwright. Regarded as one of the key figures of French and European literature, Balzac’s realist approach to writing would influence Charles Dickens, Émile Zola, Henry James, Gustave Flaubert, and Karl Marx. With a precocious attitude and fierce intellect, Balzac struggled first in school and then in business before dedicating himself to the pursuit of writing as both an art and a profession. His distinctly industrious work routine—he spent hours each day writing furiously by hand and made extensive edits during the publication process—led to a prodigious output of dozens of novels, stories, plays, and novellas. La Comédie humaine, Balzac’s most famous work, is a sequence of 91 finished and 46 unfinished stories, novels, and essays with which he attempted to realistically and exhaustively portray every aspect of French society during the early-nineteenth century.

Vista previa del libro

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HONORÉ DE BALZAC nació en 1799 en Tours, donde su padre era jefe de suministros de la división militar. La familia se trasladó a París en 1814. Allí el joven Balzac estudió Derecho, fue pasante de abogado, trabajó en una notaría y empezó a escribir: obras filosóficas y religiosas, novelas de consumo publicadas con pseudónimo e incluso una tragedia en verso, Cromwell, se cuentan entre estas primeras producciones, todas ellas anteriores a 1827. Fue editor, impresor y propietario de una fundición tipográfica, pero todos estos negocios fracasaron, acarreándole deudas de las que no se vería libre en toda la vida. En 1830 publica seis relatos bajo el título común de Escenas de la vida privada, y en 1831 aparecen otros trece bajo el de Novelas y cuentos filosóficos: en estos volúmenes se encuentra el germen de La comedia humana, ese vasto «conjunto orgánico» de ochenta y cinco novelas sobre la Francia de la primera mitad del siglo XIX, cuyo nacimiento oficial no se produciría hasta 1841, a raíz de un contrato con un grupo de editores. De este célebre ciclo son magníficos ejemplos El pobre Goriot (1835), Grandeza y decadencia de César Birotteu, perfumista (1837), La Casa Nuncingen (1837) (ambas publicadas en un solo volumen en el núm. XXIX de ALBA CLÁSICA MAIOR) y La prima Bette (1846; ALBA MINUS núm. 13). Balzac, autor de una de las obras más influyentes de la literatura universal, murió en París en 1850.

NOTA AL TEXTO

Balzac comienza a escribir Le père Goriot en el otoño de 1834, cuando está empezando a concebir el esquema general de lo que había de ser La comedia humana y el proyecto de los personajes que vuelven a aparecer de un libro a otro. Se publica en cuatro entregas en La Revue de Paris, el 14 y el 28 de diciembre de 1834 y el 18 de enero y el 1 de febrero de 1835. El 11 de marzo de ese mismo año aparece en forma de libro.

Para la presente versión castellana de Le père Goriot hemos usado la primera edición de La comedia humana, llamada édition Furne, que se publicó entre 1842 y 1845. No obstante, hemos conservado la división en cuatro capítulos que aparece en algunas ediciones posteriores.

La traducción del título de esta novela ha constituido siempre un problema al que se han dado diversas soluciones.

La dificultad reside en la doble acepción de la palabra père, que permitió a Balzac definir ya desde el título la esencia del personaje: por una parte, su ontológica, extremosa, irredenta condición de padre y, por otra, su descenso en la escala social, pasando del respetuoso tratamiento de monsieur al popular y un sí es no es despectivo de père según se va empobreciendo, y por culpa de sus hijas precisamente.

En nuestra opinión es imposible, por mucho empeño que se le eche, trasladar adecuadamente lo antedicho al castellano recurriendo a la palabra «padre» −o alguna variante− o echando mano de algún tratamiento popular que no es, por lo demás, equivalente al francés sino de forma tangencial.

Nos pareció, en cambio, por demás atinada la opción de traductores ingleses y catalanes que, prescindiendo de la letra, decidieron recoger, con otros recursos, el espíritu. Tras los pasos de quienes optaron por Old Goriot o El vell Goriot, pero no queriendo renunciar a un título polisémico, hemos optado por El pobre Goriot.

A pobre, a paupérrimo, llega Goriot, comerciante retirado con muy buen pasar al principio, por su condición de padre, efectivamente, y no por otros motivos. Y «pobre» es una forma condescendiente de referirse a una persona a quien se quiere hacer de menos; de hecho, tanto el narrador cuanto los personajes de la novela lo hacen así con frecuencia: le pauvre homme, junto con le bonhomme, otro apelativo del mismo tenor. Pobre es, pues, Goriot, a la postre, tanto en condición y consideración social cuanto en bienes terrenales. Y rico en desventuras. Y todo ello por su paternidad.

Vaya, pues, esta nueva versión castellana de Le père Goriot también con nuevo título, que no supone en modo alguno enmienda ni menoscabo de ningún otro −la cuestión era ardua, y lo sigue siendo, y es harto posible que con el tiempo aparezcan otras propuestas−; es, sencillamente, el fruto de largas cavilaciones y animados debates que compartieron la traductora y el director de la colección.

MARÍA TERESA GALLEGO URRUTIA

Al grande e ilustre Geoffroy-Saint-Hilaire

en testimonio de admiración por sus trabajos y su genio.

DE BALZAC

CAPÍTULO I

UNA CASA DE HUÉSPEDES DE CLASE MEDIA

La señora Vauquer, de soltera De Conflans, es una anciana que lleva cuarenta años regentando una casa de huéspedes de clase media sita en la calle Neuve-de-Sainte-Geneviève, entre el Barrio Latino y el Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Dicha casa de huéspedes, que es conocida con el nombre de Casa Vauquer, acepta tanto a hombres como a mujeres, a personas jóvenes y ancianas, sin que nunca se hayan metido las malas lenguas con las costumbres de ese respetable establecimiento. Pero también es cierto que hace treinta años que no se había visto en ella a muchacha alguna y que, par que viva allí un joven, muy frugal ha de ser el subsidio con que lo abastece su familia. No obstante, en 1819, época en la que empieza este drama, vivía allí una muchacha pobre. Por mucho que esa forma abusiva y retorcida con que se ha prodigado en estos tiempos de dolorosa literatura haya desacreditado la palabra «drama», no queda más remedio que usarla aquí: no porque esta historia sea dramática en el sentido propio de la palabra, pero entra dentro de lo posible que, una vez concluida la obra, alguien haya vertido unas cuantas lágrimas intra muros y extra. ¿Habrá quien la entienda fuera de París? Es lícito dudarlo. Las peculiaridades de este escenario colmado de observaciones y color local no pueden valorarse sino entre los altos de Montmartre y los de Montrouge, en ese ilustre valle de materiales deleznables siempre listos para venirse abajo y de arroyos negros de barro; valle colmado de padecimientos reales, de alegrías, falsas con frecuencia, y tan terriblemente convulso que se necesita algo, a saber qué, un algo desorbitado, para que nazca una sensación que dure un poco. No obstante, existen acá y acullá sufrimientos que la aglomeración de los vicios y las virtudes convierte en grandes y solemnes: al verlos, los egoísmos y los intereses se detienen y se compadecen; pero la impresión que les causan es como de una fruta sabrosa y comida ávidamente a no mucho tardar. El carro de la civilización, semejante al del ídolo de Jaggernat*, al que apenas demora algún corazón menos fácil de triturar que los demás y que le traba la rueda, no tarda en quebrarlo y prosigue su marcha triunfal. Así harán los lectores, quien sostenga este libro con mano blanca, quien se arrellane en un sillón mullido diciéndose: «A lo mejor me entretiene». Tras haber leído los secretos infortunios del pobre Goriot, cenará con apetito, achacando la insensibilidad propia al autor, tildándolo de exagerado, acusándolo de poesía. ¡Ay, sépalo el lector, este drama no es ni una ficción ni una novela! All is true, es tan verdadero que todos pueden reconocer los elementos que hay en sí y quizá en su corazón.

La vivienda donde está el negocio de la citada casa de huéspedes de clase media pertenece a la señora Vauquer. Se halla en la parte baja de la calle Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève, en el punto en que el terreno desciende hacia la calle de L’Arbalète con una cuesta tan repentina y ruda que pocas veces la suben o la bajan los caballos. Tal circunstancia propicia el silencio que reina en esa aglomeración de calles entre el domo de Le Val-de-Grâce y el domo de Le Panthéon, dos monumentos que alteran las condiciones de la atmósfera dándole tonos amarillos, ensombreciendo todo con los colores severos que proyectan sus cúpulas. Allí están secos los adoquines, los arroyos no llevan ni barro ni agua, la hierba crece siguiendo la línea de las paredes. El hombre más despreocupado se entristece, como todos los demás transeúntes, el ruido de un carruaje se convierte en un acontecimiento, las casas son lóbregas y los muros huelen a cárcel. Un parisino extraviado sólo vería en ellas casas de huéspedes de clase media o instituciones de la miseria o del hastío, de la vejez que se muere, de la alegre juventud obligada a trabajar. No hay barrio de París que sea más espantoso ni, también hay que decirlo, más desconocido. La calle Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève sobre todo es como un marco de bronce, el único que entona con este relato, en que no hay que escatimar, para aprontar la inteligencia, los tonos pardos y las ideas adustas; de la misma forma que, de peldaño en peldaño, la luz disminuye y la cantilena del guía suena a hueco cuando el viajero baja a las Catacumbas. ¡Comparación atinada! ¿Quién decidirá qué es más espantoso ver, unos corazones resecos o unas calaveras vacías?

La fachada de la casa de huéspedes da a un jardincillo, de forma tal que el edificio hace ángulo recto con la calle Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève, donde puede verse el corte en profundidad. Siguiendo esa fachada, entre la casa y el jardincillo, se extiende una hondonada de grava de unos dos metros, ante la que hay un paseo enarenado que bordean geranios, adelfas y granados plantados en jarrones grandes de cerámica azul y blanca. Se entra en el paseo por una puerta ni principal ni de servicio que remata un rótulo en que pone: «Casa Vauquer», y debajo: «Casa de huéspedes para ambos sexos y más». Durante el día, un cancel, provisto de una campanilla chillona, permite vislumbrar, al final del breve enlosado, en la pared opuesta a la calle, un arco que pintó de mármol verde un artista del barrio. Bajo el vano que finge esa pintura, se alza una escultura que representa al Amor. Por el barniz descascarillado que la cubre, los aficionados a los símbolos podrían ver en ella quizá un mito del amor parisino cuyas dolencias remedian a pocos pasos de allí. Bajo el pedestal, esta inscripción medio borrada recuerda la época a la que se remonta con el entusiasmo que demuestra por Voltaire, quien regresó a París en 1777:

Mira, fueres quien fueres, a tu dueño:

lo es, lo ha sido o ha de serlo.

Al caer la tarde, sustituyen el cancel por una puerta maciza. El jardincillo, cuya anchura coincide con la longitud de la fachada, lo encajonan el muro de la calle y el muro medianero de la casa de al lado, por toda la cual cuelga un manto de hiedra que la oculta por completo y atrae las miradas de los transeúntes debido a esa apariencia, pintoresca en París. Ambos muros están tapizados de espalderas y de parras sobre cuyos frutos encanijados y polvorientos versan los temores anuales de la señora Vauquer y sus conversaciones con los huéspedes. A lo largo de todas las paredes discurre un paseo estrecho que conduce a una zona que sombrean unos tilos, palabra que la señora Vauquer, aunque nacida en Conflans, pronuncia obstinadamente tiyos, pese a los comentarios gramaticales de sus huéspedes. Entre los dos paseos laterales hay un cuadro de alcachofas que flanquean árboles frutales afilados como husos y borduras de acedera, lechugas y perejil. A la sombra de los tilos se halla una mesa redonda pintada de verde y rodeada de asientos. Allí acuden a paladear el café, en los días caniculares y con un calor que podría incubar huevos, los comensales lo suficientemente acaudalados para tomarlo. La fachada, de tres pisos de altura y rematada con buhardillas, es de mampuestos y lleva un revoco de ese color amarillo que vuelve espantosas casi todas las casas de París. Las cinco aberturas de los tres pisos tienen cristales pequeños y celosías, ninguna de las cuales está alzada por igual, de forma tal que ninguna de sus líneas hace juego. La profundidad de la casa da para dos ventanas que, en la planta baja, adornan unos barrotes de hierro a modo de rejas. Detrás del edificio hay un patio de unos veinte pies de ancho, donde viven en buena armonía cerdos, gallinas y conejos, y en cuyo fondo se alza un cobertizo para guardar la leña. Entre ese cobertizo y la ventana de la cocina está colgada la fresquera, bajo la que cae el agua de fregar de la pila. En ese patio, abre a la calle Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève una puerta estrecha por la que la cocinera expulsa de la casa la basura limpiando tamaña sentina con grandes cantidades de agua, so pena de pestilencia.

Destinada por naturaleza al negocio de casa de huéspedes, la planta baja se compone de una primera estancia a la que proporcionan luz las dos ventanas que dan a la calle y en la que se entra por una puerta acristalada. Ese salón tiene comunicación con el comedor, al que separa de la cocina el hueco de una escalera cuyos peldaños son de madera y de baldosines teñidos y pulidos. Nada más triste para la vista que ese salón amueblado con sillones y sillas tapizados de estambre de rayas alternas, brillantes y mates. En el centro hay una mesa redonda con tapa de mármol Sainte-Anne, que orna esa licorera de porcelana blanca decorada con filos dorados medio borrados que hoy en día se ve por todos lados. Las paredes de la habitación, de suelo de tarima bastante mala, tienen un zócalo de madera que llega a la altura del codo. El resto lo cubre un papel acharolado que representa las escenas principales de Telémaco, cuyos personajes clásicos están coloreados. El entrepaño de entre las ventanas con reja brinda a los huéspedes el espectáculo del banquete que le dio Calipso al hijo de Ulises. Este cuadro lleva cuarenta años alentando las bromas de los huéspedes jóvenes, que se creen superiores a su posición burlándose de la cena a que los condena la miseria. La chimenea de piedra, cuyo hogar siempre limpio da fe de que sólo se enciende fuego en las grandes ocasiones, la adornan dos jarrones llenos de flores artificiales, viejas y enjauladas, a las que acompaña un reloj de sobremesa de mármol azulenco de gusto pésimo. Esta primera habitación despide un olor que no tiene nombre en el lenguaje y que habría que llamar olor a casa de huéspedes. Huele a cerrado, a moho, a rancio; da frío; se respira humedad, que le impregna a uno la ropa; tiene regusto a local en donde se come; apesta a servicio, a oficio, a hospicio. Quizá fuera posible describirlo si se inventase un procedimiento para calibrar las cantidades elementales y nauseabundas que arrojan allí las emanaciones catarrosas y sui generis de todos y cada uno de los huéspedes, jóvenes o viejos. Pues bien, pese a esos adocenados espantos, si se comparase con el comedor contiguo, ese salón parecería elegante y perfumado como ha de serlo un tocador. Dicha estancia, forrada de madera de arriba abajo, estuvo pintada antaño de un color inconcreto que hoy en día constituye un fondo sobre el que la mugre imprimió sus capas trazando así figuras extrañas. Tiene como un contrachapado de aparadores pringosos en los que hay jarras desportilladas y opacas, servilleteros de chapa galvanizada y pilas de platos de porcelana basta y bordes azules, fabricados en Tournai. En una esquina se halla un casillero con divisiones numeradas que sirve para guardar las servilletas, o sucias o manchadas de vino, de los huéspedes. Hay en este comedor muebles indestructibles, proscritos en cualquier otro sitio, pero cobijados aquí igual que los restos de la civilización en el Hospicio de los Incurables. El lector podría ver en él un barómetro con un capuchino que asoma cuando llueve; unos grabados repulsivos que quitan el apetito, enmarcados todos en madera negra y barnizada con filetes dorados; un reloj de caja de nácar con incrustaciones de cobre; una estufa verde; unos quinqués de Argand en los que el polvo se combina con el aceite; una mesa larga cubierta con un hule lo bastante grasiento para que algún medio pensionista gracioso escriba su nombre usando el dedo a modo de estilete; unas sillas desvencijadas; unas esterillas lamentables de un esparto que se va deshaciendo interminablemente sin romperse nunca del todo; y además unos calientapiés míseros con las aberturas rotas, las bisagras caídas y la madera a medio carbonizar. Para explicar hasta qué punto están estos muebles viejos, agrietados, podridos, tambaleantes, corroídos, mancos, tuertos, inválidos, agonizantes habría que dar de ellos una descripción que demoraría en exceso el interés de esta historia y que las personas con prisas no perdonarían. Los baldosines rojos están llenos de valles fruto del pulido o del tinte. Impera aquí, en resumidas cuentas, la miseria sin poesía; una miseria ahorrativa, concentrada, raída. Aunque aún no tiene fango, ya tiene manchas; aunque no tiene ni agujeros ni harapos, se deshace de puro podrida.

Esta habitación está en todo su esplendor en el momento en que, a eso de las siete de la mañana, el gato de la señora Vauquer antecede a su dueña; brinca sobre los aparadores, olfatea la leche que hay en varios cuencos tapados con platos y deja oír su ronroneo matutino. No tarda en aparecer la viuda, aderezada con un gorro de tul bajo el que cuelga un cairel de pelo postizo mal ajustado; anda arrastrando con indolencia las zapatillas deformadas. La cara envejecida y regordeta, en cuyo centro destaca una nariz de pico de loro, las manos menudas y gordezuelas, el cuerpo rollizo como de rata de iglesia, la espetera excesiva y bamboleante armonizan con este comedor del que rezuma la desdicha, donde se acurruca la especulación y cuyo aire cálidamente fétido respira la señora Vauquer sin que le dé asco. La cara, fresca como una helada primeriza de otoño, los ojos arrugados cuya mirada pasa por turnos de la sonrisa obligada en las bailarinas a la huraña amargura del cobrador de créditos, toda su persona, en fin, explica la casa de huéspedes de la misma forma que la casa de huéspedes implica su persona. No hay presidio sin bastonero, no puede concebirse aquél sin éste. La gordura blancuzca de esta mujercita es fruto de esa vida de la misma forma que el tifus es consecuencia de las emanaciones de un hospital. La falda bajera de punto, que le asoma bajo la falda propiamente dicha, hecha de un vestido viejo y que va perdiendo la guata por las rajas de la tela, es un resumen del salón, del comedor y del jardincillo, anuncia la cocina y permite intuir a los huéspedes. Cuando ella está presente ya está completo el espectáculo. La señora Vauquer, que ronda los cincuenta, se parece a todas las mujeres que han tenido mala suerte en la vida. Tiene la mirada vidriosa, la expresión candorosa de una alcahueta que piensa acalorarse para cobrar más caro, aunque esté por lo demás dispuesta a todo para mejorar su suerte y a entregar a Georges o a Pichegru si es que Georges o Pichegru* estuvieran aún por entregar. No obstante, en el fondo es una buena mujer, dicen los huéspedes, que la tienen por pobre al oírla quejarse y toser como ellos. ¿A qué se había dedicado el señor Vauquer? Su viuda nunca hablaba del difunto. ¿Cómo había perdido su fortuna? No le fue bien, contestaba ella. Se había portado mal con su mujer y no le había dejado más que los ojos para llorar, aquella casa para vivir y el derecho a no compadecerse de infortunio alguno porque, a lo que decía, había padecido cuanto es posible padecer. Al oír el trotecillo de su ama, Sylvie, la gruesa cocinera, se apresuraba a dar de almorzar a los huéspedes fijos.

Por lo general los huéspedes medio pensionistas sólo se apuntaban a las cenas, por las que pagaban treinta francos mensuales. En la época en que empieza esta historia, los fijos eran siete. En el primer piso se hallaban los mejores aposentos de la casa. La señora Vauquer vivía en el de menor rango y el otro era de la señora Couture, viuda de un intendente de los Ejércitos de la República Francesa. Tenía consigo a una muchacha muy joven, llamada Victorine Taillefer, a quien hacía las veces de madre. La pensión que pagaban ambas señoras alcanzaba los mil ochocientos francos. Uno de los cuartos del segundo piso lo ocupaba un anciano que se llamaba Poiret; y los otros, un hombre de unos cuarenta años que llevaba peluca negra, se teñía las patillas, decía haber sido hombre de negocios y se llamaba señor Vautrin. El tercer piso se componía de cuatro habitaciones; una la tenía alquilada una solterona llamada señorita Michonneau; y la otra, un fabricante de fideos, de pasta italiana y de almidón ya retirado, de apellido Goriot. Los otros dos cuartos eran para las aves de paso, esos infortunados estudiantes que, igual que Goriot y la señorita Michonneau, sólo podían gastar cuarenta y cinco francos mensuales en comer y alojarse; pero a la señora Vauquer le parecía poco de desear su presencia y no los admitía más que cuando no le salía nada mejor: comían demasiado pan. En este momento, una de las habitaciones era de un joven procedente de las inmediaciones de Angulema que había venido a París para cursar estudios de Leyes y cuya familia, numerosa, padecía las más duras estrecheces para enviarle mil doscientos francos anuales. Eugène de Rastignac, que así se llamaba, era uno de esos jóvenes a quienes la desgracia prepara para el trabajo, que entienden desde la más tierna edad las esperanzas que tienen sus padres puestas en ellos y se preparan un buen futuro calibrando ya el alcance de lo que estudien y adaptándolo de antemano a la futura evolución de la sociedad, para ser los primeros en sacarle jugo. Sin sus observaciones peculiares y la habilidad con que supo presentarse en los salones parisinos, este relato habría carecido del toque de color auténtico que, no cabe duda, le deberá a su pensamiento sagaz y a su deseo de ahondar en los misterios de una situación espantosa que ocultaban con idéntico cuidado quienes la habían creado y el que la padecía.

Más arriba de ese tercer piso, había un desván donde se tendía la colada y dos sotabancos donde dormían un mozo para todo, llamado Christophe, y Sylvie, la cocinera gruesa. Además de los siete huéspedes fijos, la señora Vauquer tenía, un año con otro, ocho estudiantes de Leyes o de Medicina y dos o tres parroquianos que vivían en el barrio, todos ellos apuntados sólo a las cenas. En el comedor cabían dieciocho personas a cenar y podía albergar hasta unas veinte; pero por la mañana sólo estaban los siete fijos que, al reunirse, ofrecían durante el almuerzo el aspecto de una comida familiar. Todos bajaban en zapatillas y se permitían comentarios confidenciales acerca del porte o del aspecto de los medio pensionistas y acerca de los acontecimientos de la velada de la víspera, hablando con la confianza que da la intimidad. Esos siete huéspedes eran los niños mimados de la señora Vauquer, que les tasaba con precisión de astrónomo los cuidados y las consideraciones según la cantidad que pagasen de pensión. Estos seres, que había reunido el azar, contaban con consideración pareja. Los dos inquilinos del segundo sólo pagaban setenta y dos francos mensuales. Ese precio económico, que no se encuentra sino en el Faubourg Saint-Marcel, entre la maternidad de la calle de La Bourbe y el hospital de La Salpêtrière, y cuya única excepción era la señora Couture, anuncia que a dichos huéspedes debían de agobiarlos desgracias más o menos a la vista. En consecuencia, el espectáculo desconsolador que brindaba el interior de la casa se repetía en los atuendos de sus parroquianos, no menos deteriorados. Los hombres llevaban levitas cuyo color se había convertido en problemático, calzado como el que tiran junto a los guardacantones de las esquinas en los barrios elegantes, ropa blanca tazada e indumentarias a las que ya sólo les quedaba el alma. Los vestidos de las mujeres estaban pasados de moda, reteñidos, desteñidos; los encajes, viejos y remendados; los guantes con brillos por el uso; los cuellos siempre asurados, y las pañoletas raídas. Aunque tal fuera la ropa, a casi todos se les veían cuerpos de recio esqueleto, constituciones que habían resistido a las tormentas de la vida, rostros fríos, duros, desgastados como los de los escudos retirados de la circulación. Dientes ávidos armaban las bocas ajadas. Aquellos huéspedes dejaban intuir dramas consumados o vigentes: no dramas de esos que se representan a la luz de las candilejas y entre telones pintados, sino dramas vivos y mudos, dramas helados que conmovían ardientemente los corazones, dramas continuos.

La anciana señorita Michonneau llevaba siempre, protegiendo los ojos cansados, una visera mugrienta con montura de alambre de latón que habría espantado al ángel de la Compasión. Tan angulosas eran las formas que ocultaba el chal, de flecos ralos y llorones, que éste parecía cubrir un esqueleto. ¿Qué ácido había privado a aquel ser de sus formas femeninas? Debía de haber sido bonita y con buen tipo. ¿Se debía al vicio, a la pena, a la codicia? ¿Había amado en exceso; había sido prendera y alcahueta o sólo cortesana? ¿Estaba expiando los éxitos de una juventud insolente, hacia la que se habían atropellado los placeres, con los actuales padecimientos de una vejez ante la que ponían pies en polvorosa los transeúntes? Aquella mirada en blanco daba frío, aquella cara desmedrada amenazaba. Tenía la voz agria de una cigarra chillando en un matorral al acercarse el invierno. Contaba que había estado al cuidado de un anciano aquejado de un catarro de la vejiga a quien habían abandonado sus hijos, que creían que carecía de recursos. Aquel anciano le había dejado una renta vitalicia de mil francos que le disputaban a intervalos regulares los herederos, de cuyas calumnias era blanco. Aunque la combinación de las pasiones le hubiera causado estragos en el rostro, había aún en él ciertos vestigios de blancura y delicadeza del cutis que permitían suponer que el cuerpo conservaba algunos restos de hermosura.

El señor Poiret era como un autómata. Al verlo estirarse igual que una sombra gris por un paseo de Le Jardin des Plantes, tocado con una gorra vieja y lacia, sujetando apenas el bastón de puño de marfil amarillento, llevando al viento los faldones ajados de la levita, que tapaba mal un calzón casi vacío, y al verle las piernas con medias azules, que temblequeaban como las de un hombre borracho, al verlo enseñar el sucio chaleco blanco y las chorreras de muselina gruesa que se enroscaban y se unían de forma imperfecta con la corbata, atada como una cuerda al cuello de pavo, había muchos que se preguntaban si aquella sombra chinesca pertenecía a esa atrevida raza de los hijos de Jápeto* que mariposea por el bulevar de Les Italiens. ¿Qué labor había podido acartonarlo así? ¿Qué pasión le había oscurecido la cara bulbosa que, de haberla dibujado alguien como caricatura, habría parecido ajena a la realidad? ¿Qué había sido? Pues quizá un empleado del Ministerio de Justicia, en esa oficina donde los ejecutores de la última pena envían las memorias de gastos, las cuentas de los suministros de velos negros para los parricidas, de serrín para los cestos, de cuerda para las cuchillas. Es posible que hubiera sido cobrador en la puerta de un matadero, o subinspector de sanidad. Aquel hombre, en resumidas cuentas, parecía haber sido uno de los asnos de nuestro poderoso molino social, uno de esos Ratons parisinos que ni siquiera conocen a sus Bertrands*, algún eje en torno al que habían girado los infortunios o las inmundicias públicas, uno de esos hombres, en fin, de los que decimos al verlos: «Tiene que haber de todo». El París elegante nada sabe de esos rostros lívidos por los padecimientos morales o físicos. Pero París es un auténtico océano. Si echásemos una sonda nunca sabríamos cómo es de hondo. ¿Recorrerlo, describirlo? Por mucho primor que se ponga en recorrerlo y en describirlo, por muchos que sean y mucho interés que tengan quienes exploren ese mar, siempre aparecerá un lugar virgen, un antro desconocido, flores, perlas, monstruos, algo inaudito que hayan dado

Comentarios para El pobre Goriot

[rosemarie.herbert · Calificación: 2 de 5 estrellas]

This review has been crossposted from my blog Review from The Cosy Dragon Please head there for more in-depth reviews by me.

'Pere Goriot', or Old Father Goriot, is a realist text which is difficult initially to understand and read. There are a number of characters, including Goriot himself and the irredeemable Rastignac, who focalize the novel. This novel is translated from French. If you want an in-depth experience of 'real' Paris, this will be good for you.

The first 100 or so pages of the novel are impossible to get into. It is all just setting the scene for the 'action'. If you persevere, you will find some more satisfying plot developments, but nothing that really shouts at you to read on. In the end, I found myself reading just to see what would happen to poor old Goriot, who got the death I expected.

If you do suddenly find yourself attached to any of the characters, this novel is part of a set 'The Human Comedy'. Balzac made it his mission to catalog the entirety of Parisian society, and most of this is contained within his published works. Balzac died before he completed it, but this is a project that I feel he probably never would have been satisfied with .

This novel is a great example of realism! There is a heavy focus on detailed settings, as if you are really walking the streets of Paris. A number of the characters seem like placeholders, while others are fully fleshed out. I don't think anyone feels real emotion for the characters, for everything is already set out for them. They seem to not try escape their sorry lot, and Rastignac in particular is quite a repugnant person.

This is not something I would enjoy reading for pleasure. As a text in a literature degree, it was a good one to study though, as it was filled with details that I could use for analysis. My version has a set of essays in the second half of the book, which was interesting and useful reading. It is good to know some historical background before setting out into the book.

Keep in mind that this is translated from French, so each translator may potentially put a different spin on things. Also, if you're going to buy it online, make sure to get the English version!

[justmerosalie · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I ENJOYED THE "TOUR OF FRANCE" AS WELL AS THE PEOPLE AND STYLE IT WAS WRITTEN IN.

[thorold_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Just about the only thing I remembered from last time I read this, in my teens, was that Goriot was in the vermicelli business. It's odd how that sort of unimportant detail sticks in your mind!In a way, this is the standard French novel plot, i.e. young man from the provinces comes to Paris and meets sophisticated older woman, but with two very particular twists: Goriot, the retired businessman who has sacrificed everything to launch his daughters into society and now finds himself treated like King Lear, and the elusive Vautrin, a self-made man of a different sort altogether. The very compact story makes a nice change from the long-windedness of 19th century English novelists with three volumes to fill, and so does Balzac's healthy cynicism: a story doesn't necessarily have to end with everyone neatly married off, and it's perfectly possible for someone to attend a sentimental deathbed scene without becoming a reformed character as a result.

[patrickgarson_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

This book snuck up on me. I thought it was going to be one kind of classic, but upon finishing realised it was a different kind - a genuine classic. Hiding beneath Balzac's congenial, almost garrulous tone there is a sharp and unsentimental eye. By the book's conclusion I could well see a writer that would go on to inspire a whole generation from Zola, to Dickens, to Flaubert and Dostoevsky. The book opens on Madame Vacquer's boardinghouse - accommodation for those bobbing just above the tideline of poverty. Its motley inhabitants are drawn together by little more than propinquity; some on the way up, others on the way down, and others in a grim holding pattern until old age or disease take them. Eugene Rastignac, a bucolic just-nobleman is on the way up, drawn to Paris for his legal studies, and soon to be awed by an introduction to the city's dizziest heights. One the way down is the eponymous Goriot. Once a wealthy trader, plump from exploitation during the revolution, every day seems to leave him poorer. But what could the ridiculous Goriot have in common with the young, up-and-coming Rastignac? The answer to this question forms the book's core. And whilst, superficially, it seems a familiar tale from the nineteenth century, it is in fact one of the first, and one with true insight. Balzac is not content to use the ups-and-downs of those with a precarious hold on security merely to propel a narrative, as so many of his disciples were wont to do; he's trying to say something.He does take his sweet time getting there, however. The first fifty pages or so left me distinctly underwhelmed. It's easy to see why W. Somerset Maugham was such an admirer of Balzac: Much like Maugham, he likes to pepper his narrative with little asides and ruminations on society, clothing, any notion that takes his fancy, really. And, like Maugham, these asides only sometimes justify the narrative break required to furnish them.Balzac's foremost talent is his observational skill. The characters are rendered almost effortlessly. Recognisable types, to be sure, but types that expand almost on demand to contain complexities, contradictions, shades of grey. Indeed, in a lot of ways Pere Goriot is a Bildungsroman whose first concern is the expansion of Rastignac. But his development - like most portrayals in the book - is neither smooth, nor predictable, nor simplistic. Whilst Balzac can embrace the cliche when he wants - as with the grasping comedy of Madame Vacquer - he eschews it for his main characters, giving us protagonists with a healthly dose of ambiguity. We identify with them, because of their flaws in addition to their virtues. To me, it gave the book an emotional heft that a dozen other 19th century novels with very similar plots lack. It also highlights Balzac's larger game, which is to turn a critical eye on French society's most venal hypocrisies. It's a harsh eye at times, but not jaundiced. Balzac isn't interested in agitprop or simple class escapism. He means to entertain, most assuredly - and the book grows progressively entertaining as typified by its chaotic dinner scenes - but not without provocation. In conclusion, I enjoyed Pere Goriot, a lot. I'm unsure how much of this can be attributed the novel's slow start and my subsequent expectations - discovering its merits was like biting into a plain pastry only to realise the centre is filled with delicious jam. However, even those expecting jam could not be disappointed with something so sweet yet at the same time tart, and all in such a small package - barely 250 pages. This accessible, intelligent novel really is a must for anyone with an interest in 19th century literature, preceding as it does so much of it, and so well.

[morddel_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

No one does the French like Balzac!

[jnwelch_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I had Old Goriot recommended as a place to start with Honore de Balzac, and it worked well. It's set in post-Napoleonic Paris, and at various times made me think both of King Lear and Charles Dickens. There is a strong cynical view of upper vs. lower classes in it. Old Goriot had become wealthy via his vermicelli (!) business, and was able to set up his two daughters in marriages to aristocratic gentlemen. To help finance them, he lives modestly in a boarding house. The book begins with what for me was a dense and lengthy foundation-setting involving the boarding house's inhabitants, but once that was done the novel became much more engaging.The other central character is law student Eugene Ratsignac, a largely pure-hearted young man who wants to make his way in Parisian society. He has little money, which normally would make such advancement impossible, but he has an aristocratic family connection that gets him some initial footing on that social ladder. A cousin is willing to help him, and soon he makes a powerful romantic ally.Old Goriot lives for the happiness of his daughters, and they take every advantage of his generosity with little demonstration of paternal affection. Their husbands don't want him around, and he lives for brief glimpses of his daughters. Eugene comes to appreciate Goriot's sacrifice, and the nobility of his soul.Turns out that Dickens was indeed influenced by Balzac, and there's even a Magwitch-type character in Old Goriot, the ex-convict Vauterin, except his aims are self-benefit rather than recompense. Vauterin tests Eugene's honesty, and Goriot's treatment by his daughters and their husbands, among other things, opens Eugene's eyes to the often vicious nature of Parisian high society. In this book and others Balzac apparently broke from a more romantic tradition and provided a realism that readers hadn't seen before. Old Goriot provides a vivid and unflattering picture of Paris in that era, as two more noble spirits try to negotiate their way through it.

[stbalbach_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Balzac, a French author, was the father of the literary genre "realism". As he says in the opening pages "..this drama is not fictional, it's not a novel: All is true--so true you will be able to recognize everything that goes into it in your own life". Of course, it is fiction, "Pere Goriot" is one of over 90 novels Balzec wrote in a frantic 20-year writing career that detail aspects of social and private life in France in the 1820s and 1830s, part of an integrated work called "The Human Comedy". "Pere Goriot" is considered representative of Balzac at the height of his abilities and is one of his most widely read novels.Having never (consciously) read a "realist" novel, I knew what to expect after the first 20 pages were devoted to describing every last detail of a Parisian bording house. Far from boring, it was like a history or anthropology book come alive in full color, sound and taste. Balzacs powers of observation are so penetrating, not just of objects but of the human heart and mind, that it is no wonder historians have used his work as a basis for understanding France during that time period. Oscar Wilde said of Balzac "The Nineteenth-Century, as we know it, is largely an invention of Balzac's".There are a number of translations available, I started with the free Gutenburg translation from the 19th century and gave up one-quarter through as too many passages were undecipherable. The Raffel translation (Norton Critical Edition), critically acclaimed, is pure magic; re-reading the same sections brought forth an entirely new book, it was amazing to see the difference translators have on the novel.

[joeydag · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

I read this for one of the courses I took with Bill Fredlund at his Institute. I remember more of his lecture about fake aristocrats and self invention in post Napoleonic France than I do of the novel, but I remember thinking I would read more Balzac and his Human Comedy. This remains the only Balzac I had read to date.

[bookworm87_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

"Pere Goriot" was a good book about the dangers of wealth. The old man is a once-wealthy tradesman with two beautiful but unhappily married daughters. Their frivolous spending habits cause Pere Goriot, who dearly loves his daughters, to give up his fortune and sell all of his valuables in order to pay their debts. The book also chronicles the struggles of Eugene Rastignac, who desires the life of the rich and famous Parisians that surround him. The book was a fast read--although it could have been more absorbing--and it taught a good lesson. Quite funny in parts!

[mrbobble · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Sometimes slow. Sometimes confusing. But definitely interesting. I couldn't recall the name so that is not so good. But I searched for Death Dodger and found the book.

[williamcostiganjr · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

There's a lot to love about this book. The writing is evocative and often humourous.However, there is a lot of extra padding that could have been trimmed. Sometimes the characters go on repeating themselves for pages at a time. The romance is overdone--but considering when it was written, is not so bad.I liked Balzac's black humor, showcased in frequent asides about Paris, money, family, society, etc. I liked how money incessantly influenced his characters' actions.The story is far-fetched in parts, but that did not detract from my enjoyment too much.

[nmhale_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

One of Balzac's books in La Comedie Humaine, a sprawling collection of interlinked novels meant to portray France at all levels of society. Pere Goriot is lauded as Balzac's finest novel, and central to the Comedie series. In the story, Eugene de Rastignac is a young law student, living at an impoverished but respectable boarding house. The novel details his introduction to the elite of Parisian society, his awakening ambition, and the start of his career. Intertwined with his story is the tragic history of Father Goriot, a man excluded from the same society Eugene seeks, even though Goriot sacrificed everything to introduce his daughters to the coveted world. Goriot and Rastignac are both boarders at the Maison Vaquer. Rastignac is young and charming, and well liked. Goriot, on the other hand, is despised and mocked, through no fault of his own. The boarders have chosen him as the weak member of the house, encouraged by the landlady's disdain after Goriot turned her down, and the old man does nothing to defend himself. He is a mystery, and Eugene will be the one to uncover it. A distant cousin, Madame de Beauseant, happens to be one of the queens of Parisian society, and she invites Eugene de Rastignac to a dance at her house. Once there, Rastignac is smitten with the beautiful Comtesse de Restaud, and even pays her a visit at her home soon after. While waiting for her, he sees Goriot sharing a quiet moment with the lovely lady in a back corner of the house. At first, Eugene's visit is going well, although he is miffed to discover the Comtesse already has a lover, but when he mentions Goriot's name he is summarily pushed from the house. Baffled, he turns to his influential cousin for advice and support. She informs him that Mr. Goriot is the father of the Comtesse de Restaud, and further promises Eugene her assistance in breaking into the enchanting world he is just beginning to taste. Through her help, Eugene learns about the back story of the Comtesse and Pere Goriot. Goriot was a wealthy tradesman, a vermicelli maker, and very in love with his wife and two daughters. When the former died, he transferred all his affections to his offspring, and loves them with an idolatrous zeal. He split the majority of his fortune in half to present them with sizable dowries that would tempt rich and powerful men, and allowed them to marry whoever they chose. His dreams of living with their new families were soon dashed. The girls followed their husband's examples, and were embarrassed to acknowledge their father in public. So he moved in to the Maison Vaquer, living off the smaller but respectable amount of money he kept for himself. However, even though his girls wanted him to keep his distance, it didn't stop them from coming to him for more money, usually in connection with their lovers. Eventually, they drained the small resources he had.Eugene equips himself with this knowledge, and begins his campaign. His cousin suggested he should woo Madame Delphine de Nucingen, Goriot's other daughter, sister to the Comtesse de Restaud. Not only would it serve as revenge, since the two sisters are bitterly competitive with each other, it could be his stepping stone into society. Eugene follows her suggestion, despite a tempting offer from the Machiavellian Vautrin, and his fortunes begin to rise to his expectations. Sadly, even Eugene's empathy and connection to their father is not enough to move the daughters' out of their selfish preoccupations, and Goriot literally exhausts himself to death to please them. Only Eugene goes to his funeral. I found this French novel extremely readable, especially as I was expecting a challenging time reading an old French classic. The introduction lingers on a minute description of the Maison Vaquer, before finally bringing its descriptive powers to the lodgers of the house and kicking off the plot. The beginning had me worried, as it was tedious, but once the story settled down with its characters, I was lost in the novel and read it far more quickly than I anticipated. The characters are fascinating, the novel deftly contrasts the glittering world of the rich and powerful with the drab world of hard work and poverty, and illuminates their surprising links and similarities. Balzac reveals the corruption that runs under the surface in both spheres of society, and also demonstrates how much more appalling it is for those upper classes that maintain an illusion of virtue and honor. Descriptive passages are devoted to the scenes of sumptuous life and the opening details of the impoverished Maison Vaquer, or physical descriptions, also related to societal status. The rest of the novel is comprised of dialogue and internal thoughts or feelings. The story flowed smoothly, and was engaging.After reading this novel, I am certainly open to reading more in his Comedie Humaine series of books. The characters were complicated and compelling. Goriot's decline was truly sad, yet Eugene's rise offsets some of the bitterness. I was upset that Rastignac lost his lingering youthful idealism at the close of the novel, and yet his ambition became a battle, almost an act of vengeance for Goriot, which made it more palatable. The whole book is a series of contrasts, of balances, which is aesthetically pleasing. I know that Balzac is known for his use of recurring characters, and de Rastignac along with several others in this novel are among his most used. I will look for other books to feature these intriguing people when I choose my next Balzac book, because I am interested to see what happens to them. They are all complicated and flawed people, and that makes for good reading.

[poetontheone · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Balzac gives readers a nuanced and meticulous moral drama portraying the French high society and its destructive power. His eye for detail is unparalleled ad his characters are full and multidimensional. A master prose stylist that reveals to us the horrors the of Parisian life in realistic yet tragic ways. A succinct read that belies layers of intricacy andl eds itself to study and analysis regarding ideas of family, class, and society.

[jtodd1973 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

One of the difficulties of this book is that Balzac expects you to understand the society he is describing. He wastes no space explaining civil law or recent history and the such, but only references them as needed to further the story. I would need a well-annotated edition to really understand it all, and the Barnes & Noble Classics editions are by no means well-annotated.

[lukes_171461 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This classic piece was my introduction to Balzac. This canny Frenchman is a close and knowing observer of human nature. The hopes, desperation, greed, and cynicism so rampant every day in our world, are fully on display here.The tale is told through the viewpoint of Rastignac, a 21 year-old law student and newcomer to Paris. Rastignac's ambition are the common ones, to be rich, fashionable, and carefree, and wishes to take a mistress. These ambitions shift over the course of the story. He becomes enamored of Pere Goriot, understanding what a virtuous man he is. Balzac shows is the destructiveness of 19th-century Paris society: Goriot's two worldly daughters waste his means over time and leave him impoverished. Goriot himself, however, is as much a supporter of worldly amibitions as anyone, but it bankrupts him and at length, at least indirectly, kills him.Here is post-Napoleon Paris, described closely if not lovingly by Balzac. This author's fame as a canny observer of human nature and human folly is richly deserved. If you haven't yet taken up Balzac, this is an outstanding place to start. Go for it!

[schmerguls · Calificación: 1 de 5 estrellas]

1194. Pere Goirot, by Honore de Balzac (read 5 Nov 1972) The good experience I had with the preceding Balzac novel led me to look forward greatly to reading this, but I was surprised by how stupid the story was. It tells of an old man who loves his two daughters so much that he pauperizes himself --not for their good, but for their bad! He helps their boyfriends (both married), buys them jewels, etc. It is just the most moronic story. Eugene Rastignac is a student of 22 who is also an obnoxious person, whining money out of his poor family so he can buy stupid luxuries and impress stupid women. I cannot say anything good aboout the book except that it was easy to read. But the story, the characters, everything made me contemptuous. I decided to read no more Balzac--and I have not. [In August 2008 I did read Cousin Bette. and again decided I need read no more Balzac.]

[klarusu · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This was my first foray into Balzac and it certainly won't be my last. It is, in a way, less a story of old Goriot himself (an old man, almost destitute, living in a run-down boarding house on the seedier side of Paris, visited occasionally by two beautiful young women who he claims are his daughters) as it is of Eugene Rastignac, the young student who shares the boarding house with Goriot and a host of richly drawn supporting characters. Balzac creates a masterful description, evocative and vibrant, bringing the high society and low underbelly of Paris alive for the reader. He is ascerbic and satirical in his portrayal of life at both ends of the social scale and makes astute observations about the human condition in general through his well-realised cast of characters and the moral dilemmas they face. Often this is executed with sharp humour, relevant in its application to certain elements of modern-day human interaction. It is an easy read and the style is both contemporary and accessible to the modern-day reader despite the age of the work. It is a great book, a portrait of human failings, of self-interest, of consuming passions and of the cynicism of romantic attachments. I would highly recommend it.

[nee3nee · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

The story starts out by meeting Madame Vauquer, a poor but, more or less, respectable woman who runs the boarding house where we meet most of the characters in this novel. The boarding house is a horrible, dirty, little, place but reputable enough. It is here we meet Eugene Rastignac and the rest of the story pretty much follows him. A poor law student from the country, Eugene has seen enough of Paris to want more, more than a poor law student can achieve without assistance. He comes up with a plan to get a rich mistress who will help him to succeed in society. But as no Parisian woman would have him as he is, he writes home and borrows money from his family and asks an Aunt, who used to frequent Parisian society, for an introduction to anyone she thinks might aid him in this social climb. The family comes through with the money and a letter to a distant cousin Madame la Vicomtesse de Beauseant. The introduction to Madame de Beauseant is important for Eugene. He is invited to ball is accepted there and meets a beautiful woman, Madame la Comtess de Restaud. She is beautiful, rich and will serve his purpose quite well. On his first call to the Madame de Restaud he blunders unforgivably. He sees a fellow boarder leaving their house and questions if they happen to know "Old Goriot." As it turns out "Old Goriot" is Madame's father. This embarrasses everyone and as Eugene leaves Monsieur de Restaud tells the doorman not to let him in again.From there Eugene goes to Madame de Beauseants and applies to her for help. How can he have a rich mistress if he has poor country habits? He asks her to teach him how to behave in society. She does this and helps him to find another potential mistress. Madame de Nucingen "Old Goriot's" other daughter. This works out well as Madame de Nucingen's last beau has just left her. Eugene takes to seeing Madame de Nucingen very frequently and when he comes home he tells Goriot all about it. By this time Eugene has come to admire and respect Goriot. He finds out exactly what kind of women this mans daughters are and why he, Goriot, is in such poverty at Madame Vanquers. He gave them everything they ever wanted as children he has continued this in their adulthood. He ruins himself with his maniacal desire to pay their debts. Eugene remains more or less good at heart through this debacle. But instead of changing his mind he continues in his scheme. I very much enjoyed this novel. The human natures described here are both appalling and engrossing. A great read and a quick one (275 pages.) Completely worthwhile.

[mickyfine · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

In a reputable, albeit shabby, boarding house in Paris there lives the usual mix of humanity frequent such places. In Madame Vauquer's establishment, the most ridiculed of her tenants is Pere Goriot, who seems generally absent-minded unless someone mentions his daughters. But with a man so willing to surrender everything he has for children, there are circumstances that arise which can only lead to tragedy.With a tendency to pluck the heights of melodrama, Pere Goriot was an intriguing reading experience. I found it fascinating for its social commentary on the norms of the upper classes in Paris in the 19th century, with its utter lack of scandal around lovers and mistresses. While I was never particularly attached to the characters themselves, I was pulled in sufficiently by the plot to want to find out what happened to them. I do recommend the translation of this edition as it reflects the language of the period while remaining accessible for modern readers.

[rocketjk · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This was my first Balzac novel, although I've read several of his short stories, and I found it insightful, sad and funny, if a bit over-written in parts. The book shows us the story of Eugene Rastinac, a young member of the rural French gentry who comes to the big city, determined to make his way in the society of early 19th Century Paris (and/or study law). His story intersects with that of the title character, an old retiree who, King Lear-like, has made the mistake of giving his fortune to his two daughters in the expectation that they will care for him in his old age. Rastinac and Goriot meet in the run-down rats nest of a rooming house they both live in, an abode described so well that a reader can almost smell the dust and feel the decay.Henry Reed, the translater of the Signet Classic edition I read, tells us in his Afterword that Balzac was in the habit of going back and amending his works, sometimes even after they'd been published. Those amendments usually consisted of additional text, and not always, as Reed tells it, to the ultimate benefit of the work. Still, while some French publishers offer shorter versions, Reed has here translated the entire text of Balzac's final edition. And, really, it's not that hard to tell where the padding has occurred, as his characters speeches sometimes seem overlong, especially towards the end.Nevertheless, Pere Goriot is keen social satire, the characterizations are quite good, and the observations are often both memorable and funny. For example very early on, we are told that Madame Vaquer, the keeper of the rooming house, had originally entertained designs of marriage on Goriot during his first days as a lodger, but that those hopes had quickly been dashed. Her reaction is described, in part, thusly:"Inevitably, she went farther in hostility than she had ever gone in friendship. It was her expectations, not her love, that had been disappointed. If the human heart sometimes finds moments of pause as it ascends the slopes of affection, it rarely halts on the way down."The hypocricy, and the heart, of human society at all its levels is investigated well, here. And the book is lots of fun.

[drfp_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

My first Balzac novel and I have to say he's far better than Flaubert at that this stage (having read Madame Bovary and Three Tales). Balzac may be extremely descriptive but he infuses everyone and everything with real heart - something I felt sorely lacking from Flaubert, who seems so mechanical in his prose. Perhaps Balzac goes a little too far here - the melodrama is a somewhat overdone - but I found this an invigorating novel with some of Stendhal's sly, satirical humour.Maupassant would go on to do a lot better but this is still decent stuff.

[reneeseinfeld · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

A very powerful book. It was appalling and painful to watch unfold. I found the whole rooming house "lifestyle" very intriguing and wondered what percentage of the paris population lived in rooming houses in the 1830's. How many situations in todays world put so many different people in the same room to interact with each other? I'm not sure that Goirot, if given the ability to go back and start over, would have had the strength to truly do the things that would have created loving, genuine, and decent daughters. The book was very relevant to the issues of today; the constant pressures of financial appearance; wanting to raise decent and loving children; aging and the fear of being alone; the struggle of doing what is easy vs. doing what is right. I highly recommend this book.

[mahallett · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

for me, not very interesting, often confused as the characters are often called by different names

[pmtracy · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

An interesting combination of the last two books I read; Proust and Turgenev. This one could have been named Fathers and Daughters. This was about a doting father and how he gave up everything for his two spoiled daughters. It was similar to Proust's writing but much more accessible.

[maxernst11 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Een klassieke Balzac, mooie vertelling, zij het lichtelijk melodramatisch.?

[bookomaniac-1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Een klassieke Balzac, mooie vertelling, zij het lichtelijk melodramatisch. 

[smiler69 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

When an elegant Monsieur Goriot first moves into Madame Vauquer's shabby boarding house, the middle-aged woman is impressed with his expensive clothes and the costly furniture and accessories he has brought with him to his ample rooms, which are among the best her humble lodgings have to offer. She considers he might be a good prospect for her, but in very little time, Goriot is visibly reduced, has moved into her cheapest quarters and sold off all his silverware, and she, along with the other lodgers, take to making fun of the old man to his face, and accusing him of seeing prostitutes when two elegant ladies come to visit him on occasion. The truth is that the old man has given away all his worldly possessions so that his two grown daughters could have the best of everything, have brilliant marriages, and be important members of Parisian high society in the early 19th century. Only one of Old Goriot's fellow lodgers, Eugene de Rastignac—a young law student—takes a real interest in the old man, and before long, the ambitious youth finds himself wrapped up in Goriot's family drama. A searing criticism about a society more interested in appearances than in individual wellbeing, and a moving portrayal of the extremes to which a father will go out of love for his children.

[bale_5 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

A powerful character study of the driving force behind humanity: money. The almighty dollar defines and influences society and holds court over its moral choices. Balzac deftly illustrates the extent to which people will go to procure wealth, or at least the illusion of wealth, in 19th century Parisian society. A young man learns this painful truth as he is initiated into the adult world. “Golden chains are the heaviest of all fetters...Henceforth there is war between us.” This timeless message is repeated throughout Balzac’s work.

[p_s_patrick · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

The plot of Old Goriot weaves together opposite ends of the Parisian social scale – the ballrooms and salons of the aristocracy, and a shabby but apparently respectable boarding house in a poor quarter of town. It is in this dreary and worn and wonderfully described old house that a variety of unlikely personalities are thrown together, including the two main characters Old Goriot and Eugene Rastingac. Along with the other residents these provide the excellent mix of humour, tragedy, comic mundanity, intrigue, and wealth of insights onto human psychology that make Balzac's novels so entertaining. We also see the vacuous world of materialism, greed, pleasure seeking, fashion, and social climbing, into which some of these characters variously dip their toes or plunge. As in many of Balzac's works, the story is driven in part by a character with a specific obsessive personality trait - in this case Old Father Goriot who is fixed on providing for his selfish daughters. Monsieur Rastignac however is an altogether more interesting and torn character in that he represents some of the better aspects of human nature, while having enough self interest that he can be led into shady schemes by those who are more cynical and less honourable than he. The fight between his sense of what is right, and the desire for personal advancement play out in this complicated character throughout the novel. Old Goriot is none the less a troubled being, though in his case this is due to his psychological complex over being a good father to his two heartless daughters. While I won't give the story away, there are several heart-wrenching scenes, and an ending that fits the story.Taken all together, this is the best of Balzac's full length novels that I have read so far, and definitely more interesting and complete than either Eugene Grandet or the Village Rector for example.

[thelostentwife · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

This book floored me. I mean, jaw on the floor, gaping as I read, type of floored me. Who knew Balzac could be so approachable? I picked up this book fully expecting to struggle through it, much like my earlier trials with Middlemarch, and instead I found myself thoroughly intrigued by this drama. And Balzac himself, as narrator of the story of Father Goriot, calls it a drama, although he hastens to explain that it isn’t quite the same as those other dramas of the time.The word drama has been somewhat discredited of late; it has been overworked and twisted to strange uses in these days of dolorous literature; but it must do service again here, not because this story is dramatic in the restricted sense of the word, but because some tears may perhaps be shed intra et extra muros before it is over. – Father Goriot by BalzacThe story is focused around two characters – Father Goriot and a young, law student named Eugene Rastignac. They are acquainted by being one of several boarders in a respectable, if a bit shabby, boarding house in Paris, France. Goriot is the father of two married daughters, and Rastignac is, at the expense of his parents and two sisters, attempting to marry into society and wealth – but in a respectful way!This drama has everything – murder and intrigue through the character of Vautrin, the Trick of Death. It has humor – there is an entire scene which made me think of our modern day Snoop Dog “shizzle” moments – Balzac talks about how the diorama has recently been unveiled, and as a result, in passing, humorous conversation, the morpheme “orama” is added to the end of random words – such as Goriot-orama. There is an entire scene at the dinner table in which words are bantered about, and even referenced later in the book that had me laughing out loud in sheer delight. It has tragedy – the outcome of Father Goriot and his daughters relationship is one that, as Balzac foretells, worthy of tears. It showcases both the good and bad sides of the human character, and provides an interesting commentary on situations and feelings that are relevant still today.Some day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another’s happiness than in your own – BalzacThe human heart may find here and there a resting-place short of the highest height of affection, but we seldom stop in the steep, downward slope of hatred - BalzacI wish I could go further into the quotes and how many things I highlighted on my Kindle – but then this entire review would be just repeated quote after quote, since there are quite a few of them. I have to encourage you to pick up this book and read it – I hope you will find it as fascinating as I did. Such an incredible story of the tragedy of life.