The successful misanthrope sits on an island pouting with his arms crossed. It's cute.

Yea, I broke my promise! Ha! I’m not surprised: I kinda suspected I would do something like this, partly because I still tend toward self-sabotage, and partly because, since this was already written, it was too easy to be lazy about it and actually post. Anyway, let’s just forget the whole promise thing – the idea of making myself publicly accountable clearly didn’t work.

So Moliere’s The Misanthrope.

(This, by the way, is part 2 for the post below this one)

The Misanthrope basically takes a jab at social hypocrisy, reason why it’s still so fresh and relevant today. The focus of its criticism is the French aristocracy of the 17^th century and the protocol politeness that ruled their every interaction. Good manners were considered a sign of sophistication, so conversations were chains of one false praise after another.

Alceste, the main character, is the absolute antithesis of these practices. He’s a self-described free thinker who scorns and condemns high society’s superfluous and hollow conversation, its inability to express honest feelings, and its habit of speaking ill of others behind their backs. Thus, Alceste presents himself as an advocate of sincerity in human interactions.

After the first five to ten minutes Alceste seems like a great guy – an idealist and a true humanitarian. Then, you learn that our man Alceste is madly in love with a woman who embodies all the traits he just spent the last five to ten minutes explaining he detests.

Ah, l’amour. That’s how Alceste plainly explains his love for Celimene, a witty and frivolous socialite who beautifully lies in front of everybody’s faces but blasts and grills them when their not around. To paraphrase him: “my reason tells me not to love her but I cannot rule over the heart.”

Whatever. If you pay attention to the play, you’ll notice that they’re not that different from each other, which I think explains the attraction for his seeming antithesis.

Alceste’s contempt for the human race mirrors Celimene’s inclination to criticize absolutely everybody. Even though Alceste hates her hypocrisy, maybe he feels that she is in some way the only person who can understand him. After all, both are capable of finding flaws in every human being. I think the outcome of the final altercate between Alceste and Celimene supports this belief, but I won’t go into details as not to ruin the ending in case there’s anyone out there who wants to read/go see the play.

As the play develops, Alceste gradually becomes more radical, intolerant and nihilistic. He’s more than just firm on his principles, he’s inflexible. There’s simply no way for him to reconcile with humanity: the world’s without a remedy. Nothing, absolutely nothing pleases him. Alceste only knows how to complain and cannot even be said he seeks to lead with an example. He’s quick to criticize but he doesn’t look for ways to effect change. He has basically given up on the world.

According to Wikipedia , “French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, hated the play for depicting Alceste as a fool on stage. He believed that the audience should be supporting Alceste and his views about society rather than disregarding his idealistic notions and belittling him as a character.”

In that regard, it’s interesting how I began with an inclination to respect Alceste’s noble radicalism, but as I learned more about his intolerant and uncompromising personality, I started searching for validity in other characters’ stand on the issue, such as Philinte, Alceste’s friend who finds courtesy is a necessity for smooth and respectful human interactions, and presents himself as an example of tolerance and moderation.

So the characters’ personalities and fates not only reveal how Moliere felt about the issue of politeness verging on hypocrisy: his portrayal of the characters almost inevitably affects our perception of them, which in turn might also affect how we evaluate their takes on the issue.

For example, the fact that Alceste is stubborn and inconsiderate puts a bad light on his honesty-above-all argument, and the fact that Philinte is thoughtful and well-intentioned puts a good light on his moderate courtesy-for-civility argument.

I still think The Misanthrope is a thought-provoking play but because of this last issue, one may take the moral of the story to be ‘some degree of hypocrisy is a necessary evil,’ which in turn might undermine the initial question the play presents: is there a need for more honesty in human interactions?

Oh well. I think I’m ready to submit this to my 17^th Century French Comedies class professor. Oh right: I don’t have one. Here’s to building my personal Sparksnotes-like collection of unsolicited essays.

PS: I tried finding a video that showed part of the play, but I could only find this one I posted, which frankly, I didn't like at all. So watch it if you want to, but you'll find this other one to be doubly misanthropic, more Hollywoody, and a lot more entertaining (You need to be up to date with your movies to follow, though).