But as of then, no doubt existed for me: I did not care for what is known as “pleasures of the flesh” because they are really insipid; I cared only for what is classified as “dirty.” On the other hand, I was not even satisfied with the usual debauchery, because the only thing it dirties is debauchery itself, while, in some way or other, anything sublime and perfectly pure is left intact by it. My kind of debauchery soils not only my body and my thoughts, but also anything I may conceive in its course, that is to say , the vast starry universe, which merely serves as a backdrop. (49)
When my proctor for the major portion of my comps suggested that one of my possible comps questions could be a comparison between Andre Breton’s Nadja and Georges Bataille’s Story of the Eye (which was published under the pseudonym Lord Auch), I was like “Far out! How cool would it be to compare two Surrealist love stories?” I liked Nadja quite a bit, after all. I naively did not look more into Story of the Eye, I just ordered the book and picked it upat the library. Even more naively: I didn’t read the back of the book. I didn’t even think that it would be that different from Nadja: I imagined that it would have a disjointed narrative and be rather misogynistic. Now, I am a grown-up– a grad school grown-up, mind you, which means that I take everything with a grain of salt– but if this book is read as a narrative and a piece of literature, there are only four words I can say: assault on the senses. I have not read anything by the Marquis de Sade (though I did see “Quills”), but if one reads Story of the Eye literally, I can say with absolute confidence that one will find this to be one of the most depraved things ever written. Ever. Most of the prose is so foul that I cannot quote much here lest I risk having the post taken down due to inappropriate content; I can’t even reproduce a summary for the exact same reason. Just look up Story of the Eye on Wikipedia; it also goes into the perverse symbolism behind the pseudonym Lord Auch, which is unsurprisingly almost as debauched as the novel itself.
Being the responsible student that I am, I looked up some scholarly analyses of the book to try to take the edge off. I am going to need to pick up Roland Barthes’ Critical Essays because it has “Metaphor of the Eye,” one of the first investigations into Story of the Eye (shockingly, it took almost 40 years for anyone to actually regard it as anything other than pure porn). Though I have not read “Metaphor” in its entirety yet, I have been able to find some good summaries for my blogging purposes. I’m also going to need Styles of Radical Will, which features Susan Sontag’s essay “The Pornographic Imagination,” and Michel Foucault’s Bataille: A Critical Reader. There is a surprising amount of symbolism amongst all of the kinkiness involving eggs, eyes, and certain bodily fluids. The book is also (very indirectly) something of an autobiography of Bataille’s own life experiences. These factors made the reading of Story of the Eye somewhat less painful.