Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The wages of Sin is DEATH!!!! Muahahahahahaha....
Oh, wait, this is supposed to be a shockingly candid morality play about wonton desires, materialism, sex, more sex, and the lassitude that comes from throwing caution to the wind and fulfilling your every fantasy.
You know... like Lindsay Lohan. Emma was the Lindsay Lohan. Spending more than she ever had, committing ADULTERY *gasp* 1850's, and generally being a bad, bad girl with that pocketbook.
In other words, a bored housewife's ultimate fantasy. No whips or chains this time, however. Flaubert really WOULD have been found guilty and thrown in the place where only the most morally depraved go.
You hear that, Voltaire? Just watch yourself. You, too, Sade. I don't want to be hearing any of that nonsense about couching philosophy in a sexually charged medium.
Oh, Flaubert... were you REALLY just talking about taking basic fiscal responsibility? Oh, crap. You were.
Oh, well, never mind...
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