Author: Isabella

Marquis de Sade wrote the draft of The 120 Days of Sodom in prison in only 37 days. Up to this point, de Sade’s life was the complete opposite of the opulent lifestyle he was raised in during his childhood. After many shocking scandals, including assaulting a woman in 1768 and the horrible “little girls affair” that happened during the winter of 1774 to 1775, de Sade was burned in effigy, survived attempted murder, and lived as an outlaw for many months at a time. While in prison, de Sade lived in rough and hostile conditions, even though he still had the sense of entitlement that he was raised with. All of these jarring pieces can give context to the horrors of the book. His own crimes can even be compared to some of the crimes that are found in this novel, including the “little girls affair” that occurred locked away in his family home in Provence over a treacherous winter, which parallels the 120 days in the novel that occurred in a locked-off castle far away from society. 

Although it may be exceedingly challenging to believe (especially after the last quarter of the book), many of the characters may be representations of French society in the 18th century, especially since de Sade was an active participant in revolutionary politics. For example, the four libertines behind the treacherous 120 days may each represent corruption and evil in certain institutions in society. 

The Bishop represents the church and religious power, and further the hypocrisy of the church. He ironically had a contempt for religion, even though he was the bishop, and he committed many crimes in his lifetime, including murder. The Bishop could have been a way to call out de Sade’s view of the hypocrisy and corruption of the church at that time. 

Durcet represented the corruption in financial institutions since he was a financier (like an investor or banker). His corruption, crimes, and swindling all gave him his power, potentially representing, similar to the other four, how many of those in power gained their power in horrid and unfair ways, including murder. 

The Prèsident de Curval may represent political and judicial power and corruption in politics and the courts. First, Curval is the oldest of the four and in the worst physical shape, being compared to a “skeleton.” Furthermore, he has been unable to fulfill his official duties for the last 10 years. This could be de Sade’s take on how political power was often controlled by politicians who were too old and unfit for the job. Curval is also the filthiest of the four, both physically and characteristically, being physically repulsive and unclean, while also using “filthy expressions” and being one of the most libertine of the four. This could represent how filthy politicians are metaphorically and how their corruption often keeps them in power for an unreasonably long time.

The Duc de Blangis, the mastermind of the whole operation, may represent the overall corruption of elite French society. Although he inherited a great fortune that started his wealth, he was incredibly cunning and was able to greatly increase his riches through his crimes. He was a “dark and wicked man” who was described as “barbaric,” which can be clearly seen throughout the book. He had immense power, even saying, “Only the law stands in my way, but I defy it.” (de Sade, 1904, p. 10). The Duc is essentially evil incarnate, even killing his own sister and mother for power. Physically, he is described as strong and masculine, even at the age of 50. All of these traits could symbolise how overpowered and truly corrupt the elites of society were, showing how far they were willing to go for power and pleasure. 

Overall, de Sade took this book way too far, unfortunately sacrificing the potential message that he meant to convey. The message (if there was even a message left by the disturbing end of the book) is lost in the nauseating context of the story. As mentioned in the introduction before the novel, written by Will McMorran and Thomas Wynn, this story “reflects and represents the horrors of incarceration,” and it sheds light into the mind of a very twisted individual during a very turbulent time. I understand that literature often needs to be shocking. It must elicit certain emotions in a way that forces readers to think critically to properly convey a message. However, in this case, Marquis de Sade completely missed that mark and essentially erased any possible meaning or messages in this novel by creating such a vile story. One could also argue that the underlying themes were just an excuse for this twisted individual to write a perverted story. Nevertheless, this book, put simply, was horrible, both structurally and in content.

This vile book should be renamed The 120 Days of Hell. It was a never-ending, dreadful, gruesome, and downright sickening story that never once failed to evoke some sort of negative emotion, be it disgust or absolute horror. Not only was the story itself nauseating, but the style of writing and the pacing, with de Sade maddeningly describing the story day by day, made this book incredibly difficult to read. If one decides to take up the burden of reading this book, it is clear that it cannot be read all at once, not only due to the intense content of the story, but also the convoluted pace of the writing.  

The introduction takes up the first 66 pages of the book and is arguably the most informative part of the story, although it is maddeningly drawn out. The introduction is really the only part of the novel that provides a story that is easier to follow, with an almost clear goal in mind. It gives us a glimpse into the lives of the four libertines, including their personalities and dark secrets. It sheds light on their corrupt lives and their dark pasts, while also setting up the rest of the horrid novel. The introduction is sometimes straightforward enough in describing the characters and the setting, which makes it a little easier to comprehend compared to the rest of the book. However, it is also subject to a lot of rambling in between that may distract the reader from the main storyline (if there is even one left by the end of the novel). In regard to the content itself, de Sade does not shy away from jumping right into dark and perverted imagery and commentary, but unfortunately, nothing can prepare the reader for what the rest of the novel holds.

Part One of the novel was the most difficult to read in terms of structure. It was incredibly long, and it seemed to ramble quite a bit, especially since it was written day by day. It was very easy to confuse the characters and lose track of what was happening. Unlike the following parts of the novel, Part One still attempts to give a slight focus to the story itself, although it often loses the story to the sexual content. Overall, Part One did not need to be over 200 pages long, especially when the majority of those pages didn’t add much meaning to the story other than perverted sexual content. When I was reading Part One, I was disgusted and incredibly uncomfortable the entire time, and I honestly thought that this novel could not get much worse. Boy, was I wrong.  

After the excessively long and drawn-out first part of the novel, the book’s narrative shifts completely, with the writing being almost exclusively a list of repulsive acts that gradually worsen until the final section, Part Four. This can be attributed to the fact that Marquis de Sade was only able to complete a draft of the story in his lifetime. Parts Two through Four, although all three combined are shorter than Part One, were arguably the most detestable parts of the novel. By the end of Part Two, I lost all hope for this novel, which I never recovered, even by the end of the book. The fact that the majority of the last quarter of the book is a list of acts so repulsive and vile that I had to put down the book multiple times made the ending of the book almost impossible to reach. Parts Three and Four were so deranged and twisted, I could not even comprehend the point of the book at that point. Put simply, I hated every moment of it. 

The 120 Days of Sodom is my least favorite book that I have ever read, and I hope to never read something like it again. I never once felt any positive emotion reading it, nor do I have any positive feedback for it now. Although there is a possibility that this novel is meant to represent something more than its revolting content, there could have been a much better way to convey that message. Overall, it is safe to say that the twisted and infamous Marquis de Sade has left this reader absolutely traumatized.

In the time it took to fully read and truly understand this clever essay, there was never once a dull moment. From the moment I began reading to the moment I wrote my final annotations, I was completely enthralled with this essay. This grotesque and disturbing writing was a brilliant way to grab people’s attention and make a statement, a trait that many forbidden texts are proud of. Simply stated, this essay is shocking and is guaranteed to make anyone’s head turn, while expertly using the shocking material in a satirical way to express an important message. 

The essay starts by bringing attention to the poor mothers begging for their helpless children instead of working for their “honest lively-hood” and working to improve their own lives. Swift mentions how disappointing it is to witness such a sad sight in society, especially when those same children often end up with disappointing lives themselves. Many parents in Ireland faced the challenge of raising a child without having the ability to support them. He claims that these children are a grievance and that someone needs to make them useful in some way. He calculates that there are 120,000 children born to parents who are unable to take care of them. Furthermore, many of these children are apparently not useful because they can’t work the majority of the jobs needed. His solution is the following: 20,000 children will be kept for “breed” (according to his words), and the remaining 100,000 will be “offered” to the rich and wealthy of society…as food. 

The essay takes a dark turn from this moment forward, and it continues to spiral until the very end. Throughout the rest of the essay, Swift meticulously describes the benefits of feeding these children to the elites of society, arguing that it will help relieve the poor of some of their burdens, while simultaneously giving pleasure to the rich. Although the content of this essay may be distressing, its true purpose is to invoke a harsh reaction in order to convey an eye-opening message about society in Ireland in the 18th century. Swift’s true argument is meant to call out the elite of society, like the politicians and landowners, for seeing the poor as an inconvenience rather than as actual people who are struggling. 

Swift utilises clever irony and satire to fully convey his message, leaving the reader pensive and reflective. One of my favorite examples of this is found in the very last line of the essay, where he admits he has no children to sacrifice for the very cause he is arguing for, because his child is too old and his wife can no longer have children. This ironic line calls out the hypocrisy of the elite in his society, who expected the poor to do something for their benefit, while refusing to do that same thing themselves. 

Overall, Swift does an excellent job of conveying his message in a very memorable way that will stick with their readers even after they are done reading. 

If there is anything I took from the Gospels of Mary of Magdala and Judas Iscariot, it is that the world of Christianity and its complexities stretches far beyond my mind’s comprehension. Although I am a Christian who has grown up learning about the Bible and its teachings both at church and in my own home, I admittedly do not know nearly as much as I should. Coincidentally, to further add to my confusion and ignorance, our discussions of these two intriguing gospels further proved that I am barely even standing on the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the history of Christianity and its teachings. 

The Gospel of Mary Magdalene is a non-canonical text discovered in Cairo in 1896 by German scholar Dr. Carl Reinhardt. As of right now, around half of the gospel is missing. Already containing debatable and controversial material, the incomplete Gospel of Mary Magdalene has raised serious debates about Christian teachings, and it has sparked the discussion of what teachings are right or wrong and who has the authority to decide their validity.

The text itself is shocking to many and is unsurprisingly considered a controversial text in Christianity. Some of its “radical” teachings include the rejection of Jesus’ suffering and death as the path to eternal salvation, and the idea that there is no such thing as sin. The text also addresses Mary Magdalene and her experience as a follower of Jesus, addressing a woman’s role in interpreting Jesus’ teachings. More specifically, in the Gospel of Mary Magdala, Mary is the only one who comprehended one of the Savior’s teachings, while the other disciples are left distraught and confused. When Mary attempts to explain and interpret the message to help the other disciples understand, they scrutinize her and question her reliability because she is a woman. 

Regarding the Gospel of Judas, what stood out the most was the question of who wrote it. One could argue that Judas or someone who wanted to clear his name took some part in it because, overall, this gospel paints Judas in a better light than expected. He is seen, according to his gospel, as a favored disciple. Many times, Jesus comes to him personally to discuss secret teachings and other messages that are not shared with the other disciples. This favorable image of Judas would arguably be written by someone who wanted to clear his name. Even in the conclusion, Judas’ betrayal is not painted as something horribly tragic; it focuses more on just stating the facts, further leading me to think it was written by Judas or someone trying to clear his name.

I struggled to understand both of these gospels when I first read them, but once I understood the context and the messages of both after re-reading them and discussing them in class, it made me reflect on the individuals who gradually compiled the New Testament together over an incredibly long period of time. What gave them the authority to determine what made the cut and what didn’t? In addition, how many other stories have been lost with time that could have answered many of our questions today? Even what we have access to today is flawed, like these two gospels that are missing so much of their context. As time goes by and more is lost, who will determine what will be kept and what will be forgotten?

Hi, this is Isabella!