Justine

Those who require a book - or series of books - to have a strong, always-moving-forwards, "plot" are understandably frustrated by The Alexandria Quartet. Durrell himself noted that he saw the four books as simply visions of the same complex web of events and people filtered through different perceptions. It is a glittering, multi-dimensional, spiderlike construction of links and mini-scenes, that is given into your hands to look into, to turn a little this way and that, with each viewpoint affording new glimpses down intricate pathways of place, time, and persons. As you explore, you are hand-held by the most amazing use of language to keep you perpetually involved, both in scene descriptions and in meditative thoughts and aphorisms. So many extraordinary moments and sayings: all ultimately concerned with the nature of relationship, of trust, of acceptance of things as they are, not as they should be. There are painful discoveries: but is there really such a thing as betrayal when everything acts according to its ineluctable nature? Yet pain is real: how devastating are Justine's words "Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged." For the marvelous brief portraits - what to choose - How about a quick first view of the dark and enigmatic Justine: "...Justine's lovely head - the deep bevel of that Arabian nose and those translucent eyes, enlarged by belladonna. She gazed about her like a half-trained panther." But then a different perspective: "Later, going to bed, she would catch sight of herself in the mirror on the first landing and say to her reflection: "Tiresome pretentious hysterical Jewess that you are!" Or the slightly sinister portrait of Capodistria: "He is more of a goblin than a man, you would think. The flat triangular head of the snake with the huge frontal lobes: the hair grows forward in a widow's peak. A whitish flickering tongue is forever busy keeping his thin lips moist." Or the city itself: "Alexandria Main Station: midnight. A deathly heavy dew. The noise of wheels cracking the slime-slithering pavements. Yellow pools of phosphorous light, and corridors of darkness like tears in the dull brick façade of a stage set. Policemen in the shadows." I don't know how to convey the unique flavor of "Justine" and the others except by giving these mini-tastes. I think you will probably be able to determine from them if these are books for you. They certainly are for me - have been for many years.

If your sentiments following reading of this work are closer to those expressed in the second Spotlighted review (the reader who "forces" himself to the end of this first novel and then apparently quits), be forewarned or reassured by the reminder that this 4-part narrative, of which "Justine" is only the first quarter, did not begin to "grab" me until I was well into the second volume. Initially I was attracted to the philosophical hype (Durrell's claim that he's representing modern love in a quantam, post-relativity space-time world), but soon that "bait" became insignificant to the love story, the author's love affair with a cross-section of humanity (as represented by the microcosmic Alexandria), conveying knowledge of the ways of the heart no less intimate than that of the most private personal relationships. Rereading "Justine," I'm frankly knocked out all over again by the strength and fullness of Durrell's passionate prose (more "poetic" than his poetry). It's unfortunate if he's not being read as much any more because his is an extraordinary talent and a unique voice--not hamstrung by the rebellion against Puritannism that characterizes so much American literature, not so exquisitely subjective, abstract and effete like much French writing, not mired in theological questions of goodness and evil like Germanic, Russian and Nordic literature. And he's not restrained and pretentious, covering up as much as he exposes, like Ondaatje, an otherwise kindred spirit. In his all-out, unashamedly candid and relentless examination of the many faces of love and in turn the writer as quintessential "lover" with stakes no less than the writer's own soul, his only equal in my experience is D. H. Lawrence. Granted, there is in Durrell's narrator the "lost-generation" pose of someone suspicious of relationships, disillusioned by failed loves, insecure about his own regenerative capacities--and there's the flimsy facade of self-referential modernism (or post-modernism, if you prefer)--but don't let these peripheral matters fool you: Durrell is a true, full-blown Romantic, not only one of the last such writers but one of the best. "The Alexandrian Quartet" is capable of captivating and transporting you to a place that you've never been and which perhaps never was, but at its completion you'll be fully convinced that you were there. Even as I was reading the novel as a college student, I knew better than to wish to go to the "real" Alexandria, which is less a geographical location than a metaphor for consciousness itself, that place where desire meets its true objects. (Because I wanted to share part of that place with my daughter, I named her after one of the characters in the novel--Melissa. Happy to say she did not take up the same profession as Durrell's Melissa.)

I have never read a book as well penned as Justine. It is the type of book that could send an aspiring writer into a bout of deep depression as they are confronted with a tapestry of words ostensibly woven out of gold. My only consolation is that L.D. wrote this in a time where there was no Cable TV, Internet, MSN messenger, cell phones, etc. I read the other reviews and was apalled when I read how other "book fanatics" found this book to be complete rubbish. My advice to them is learn how to really communicate with a book...it requires a lot more concentration, intention, and commitment than watching Sex in the City. It is not an easy read. It is not full of banal dialogue or easily digestible platitudes. It is composed of mellifluous and thoughtful utterances, indelible landscapes, and psychological/metaphysical nuances (yes, nuances!). This is a book that all writers need to read. It offers you a porthole into the headspace of a fellow artist, tormented, self deprecating, yet proud at the same time. Arabs, Jews, Copts, and Kabbalists collide, coexist, and sometimes even influence eachother in the Alexandria Quartet. Watching the way these religions served as cultural molds instead of moral guidelines served as a barometer for the times juxtaposing the religious extremism that has made such a comeback in the Middle East today. Egypt has been written about since the beginning of time, and the Middle East is the origin of civilization as we know it. Alexandria is the backdrop for a pre/post WWII drama and is rife with adultery, prostitution, STDs, alcoholism, foreign affairs, and most importantly to me; the loyalty that unifies family and friends. This book tops my Great Books List...a list that includes Tolstoy, Joyce, Proust, etc... If you are willing to put in the time and effort required for this masterpiece of English literature, you will be handsomely rewarded.

Durrell has created a city out of language in this novel. I take that partially back--in _Justine_, the city IS language. His lush and tactile descriptions become as real as bricks and mortar in the reader's mind. The Alexandria of this novel hums, crackles, simmers...sometimes it devours the characters who choose to live there, sometimes it gives them moments of epiphany. But reading this novel, you will, yourself, become a kind of resident of this unreal city. You will follow with fondness and sadness the minor characters who give this novel so much texture. You will soak up the cadences of Durrell's prose in creating this city. Justine, Nessim, and the rest of the flawed, though achingly poignant characters will haunt your reading of this novel in one fashion or another. They will seem to you like people you have known in real life--who HASN'T had a topsy-turvy lover in their lives?-- but at the same time take on properties of something out of Greek theatre. The characters are realistic and yet are greater than the sum of their parts. I can't wait to read the next three novels in the Alexandria Quartet. This book will truly endure. It has set off firecrackers in my brain.

Justine is a work of ethereal beauty whose text at times borders on poetic prose. With the exception of Proust, I cannot recall an author who so tenderly employs the use of metaphors to illustrate and develop his themes. Durrell has created an inveterate masterpiece whose characters are victims of their unfettered passions and longings, and cannot help but inflict pain upon those closest to them. The way Durrell describes a glance of Justine's or the narrator's anguish upon the recollection of his beloved Melissa is absolutely moving. Nowhere will you see a more vivid portrait of the human condition depicted in such beautifully poetic terms.The novel is basically structured upon the recollections of the narrator and the interwoven relationships he was a part of in pre-war (WWII) Alexandria, Egypt. Love is examined on many different levels within this work, each character a personification of a separate plateau, whose apex is only pain and misfortune. Justine is a novel whose indigenous beauty stems from her character's proclivities and shortcomings-they are victims of an unbridled passion that is at times tender, yet always ruthless.