"The Colours of the Revolution": A review of a surprisingly decent FREV novel
About a year ago I came over the freshly published German novel Die Farben der Revolution: Eléonore und Robespierre (Jeanette Limbeck) and after a bit of initial scepticism – FREV fiction often tends to be more bad than not – I was actually pleasantly surprised by the result. As the title suggests the novel follows the perspective of Eléonore Duplay through 1791 to 1794, and while it is by no means flawless, it is still a reasonably informed and nuanced one for the standards of many French novels posted around here and definitely deserves a shoutout especially for those who can read German.
The positives
The author has clearly done a fair share of good secondary reading on relevant topics in revolutionary historiography in French and English (Godineau, McPhee, Linton, Leuwers...) and in fact even includes a list of major factual changes or at times inventions at the end of a book (though as we will see later there are a few she missed)
Choosing character on which there are limited sources like Eléonore Duplay can be a bit of a tricky task - it leaves room for invention but also the risk of overdoing it - but for the most part Limbeck succeeded in fleshing her out as a character. A character that shows has artistic and political interests as well as personal friendships beyond her relationship with Robespierre. A character that can be wrong - there is for example a good part in the book where the author decided to make her very enthusiatic for the revolutionary war in 1792 and let her argue with Robespierre on the topic until they finally work it out. Its also pretty good in stressing some of the limits of her outlook as a middle class woman for example as she grows increasingly suspicious of Enragé allied women like Pauline Léon and their "material interests".
And importantly the author for the most part resists the urge to make the main heroine in a historical novel a girlboss who overcomes all the sexist constraints of society through sheer brilliance. Instead she actually has to struggle with them. So, even as she gets more more interested in politics, she has to constantly work on her readings skills to get from basic literacy to actually reading comfortably (and borrow Maximilian's books) because of the limits of her primary education. When she tries to pain classical or revolutionary scenes in her painting lessons, she actually repeatedly realises or is even told by others (thank you David!) that her paintings are stale – which obviously makes sense when female painting students were to allowed to see real male bodies.
While not the POV, Robespierre is overall handled reasonably well - it definitely leans towards a more favourable perspective, especially when the authors can choose between multiple explanations and scenarios, but he is flawed in his own right. It does a pretty good job illustrating the mix of admirable conviction and frustrating self-assurance (eg. he is both very right and very arrogant when explaining why Eléonore is wrong about he war), the limits of his role in the Revolutionary government, not shying away from his growing paranoia (or indeed generally that of revolutionaries), while at the same time doing a good job of making the reader understand it under the circumstances.
For the most part it is also pretty nuanced on a great variety of players at least on the broad revolutionary "left". We can see a Danton who can be frustrating, offensive, vulgar and corrupt but also warm and humane and perhaps a bit more conventionally sympathetic but also naive Desmoulins. We get at first a little distant but increasingly sympathetic Saint-Just and see a lot more of his human side once him and Eléonore warm up to each other. We get sympathetic portrayls of women from the Citoyennes Republicaines Révolutionnaires as well as wives of other revolutionaries like Lucille or Simonne Éverad (who becomes a bit of an older advisor/friend). We even get a couple of sympathetically portrayed Hébertist sympathisers (though usually fictional), which is otherwise pretty rare in FREV media. And it even has a few quite well written interactions between Eléonore and her royalist former teacher, who is portrayed with some human sympathy but is also clearly wrong, not both-siding the issue.
Finally, the relationship between Eléonore and Robespierre is handled generally well – probably better than in any other FREV novel I read. The author goes for a romantic interpretation of the relationship, which is obviously not universally shared and can at times seem a bit overstated, but the relationship itself is reasonably good. You have an element of friendship, admiration, interest so that the relationship does seem natural but also hardly idylic with its arguments and tensions.
Also has some great moments - some more serious personal or political conversations but also funny ones. Eg. when Eléonore and Robespierre eventually start sleeping together (which is again handled a lot better than in most other FREV media), she gets very excited by the fact that she can finally improve her skills with drawing male bodies while he sleeps, only for him to wake up and start panicking what would happen if someone leaks it to the press or if god forbid (!) their children or grandchildren would find it one day.
The controversial/ mixed bag
The whole book is from Eléonore's POV which sometimes creates a tensions between when the author is trying to authentically represent her perspective and when to present a more objective analysis of situations or push her own view. For example, the Girondins basically come of as self-serving hypocrites - which may well be authentic in terms of Eléonore's perpective but is clearly reductionist if it is the author's own. By contrast, Eléonore seems to hold a lot of understanding and even sympathy for the Dantonists until the end (and while she comes to treat the trial as a political necessity, she knows they are not actually foreign agents) - which may be a more nuanced view, but not one that would represent Eléonore's opinions.
As is a bit of a tradition with women in FREV literature the author has decided to make Eléonore a lot more interested in women's rights that we have any indication she would be. Now, given how little we actually know about her, there is certainly some space to do this. In some cases it can be just fairly natural frustration about the limitations imposed on her as a woman in society - whether in the expectations of marriage or the limits on her artistic pursuits, which seems quite realistic. Her interest in issues like family law reform or education or the fact that she attends some meetings of the mixed Société des Amies de la Verité and later even of the SCRR (though she eventually parts with them), don't seem implausible either. But eventually this is simply pushed too far with the author attributing her proto-feminist views that she almost certainly did not have, especially support for womens' right to vote and even repeatedly arguing with Robespierre over the issue (as if that was something widely supported even among revolutionary women). And yes, technically all those conversations happen behind closed doors, but it seems like an instance of the author projecting views she would like the heroine to have.
While the book does a lot of good in constantly reminding the reader that Robespierre is not some bloodthirsty dictator but a member of a collective government in the middle of war, it can sometimes come off as if the burden of blame for things that go wrong is shifted to a couple "extremists" - especially Billaud, Collot, Vadier and Amar – rather then having to explain the variances and complexities of revolutionary violence.
While most characters are quite nuanced, Madame Duplay and Charlotte Robespierre clearly get the short end of the stick - with Eléonore's mother coming of a bit like a kind of Madame Bennet obsessed with securing her daughters' future and Charlotte being pretty much reduced to the jealous sister trope (though again, its Eléonore's POV).
And perhaps most controversially, the author decides to include a plot-point just before Thermidor, where Eléonore with the support of Le Bas (concerned both for the revolution and the fate of their families) try to convince Robespierre to eliminate his enemies by force and temporarily take on the role of dictator. It makes for good tension and Robespierre does quite categorically refuse the suggestion but it is certainly a very 19th century drama/dubious mémoires inspired invention.
The bad
Even apart from the final corrections (usually to do with simplifications, cutting out characters etc), there are at least two strange moments with outright incorrect descriptions of political events. Once it is claimed that appart from baning women's clubs the Convention also banned women from its galleries and from gathering in the streets in 1793, even though that only happened after the Insurrection of Prairial in 1795. It is also implied that the Law of 22 Prairial did away with any judicial process entirely, which is simply an overstatement whatever objections one can have to it.
In a bit of a Hilary Mantel-esque moment the author decides that Robespierre could not simply have come to signing the arrest warrant over Desmoulins of his own volition. Fortunately we are spared fake SA stories (indeed Danton's harasment of Elisabeth is mentioned and taken seriously). Instead, Eléonore makes some politically unsound comments criticising the repression in the Vendée and Vadier then threatens Robespierre that the CPS could issue an arrest warrant for her if he does not agree to add Desmoulins to the list. While I can take overplaying the romantic element elsewhere, this seems simply like a cop-out of a morally uncomfortable decision.
But overall, I would definitely recommend the book - it was in some respects a bit like Piercy's A City of Darkness, a City of Light with occasional modernisation or simplification, but still a well informed and nuanced book, especially in the context of FREV media.
This sounds like an interesting book, but I wonder if there will be an English translation...hmm.
Not that I know of I am afraid - it was a good way to bring up the remains of my high school German for me (the book is pretty readable and not that difficult if one looks up a few words here and there) but obviously one needs to know some German to start with. It is really a bit said, but I think translations of non-English books to English are just not very common unless they are total best-sellers or classics.
