The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

Born in Paris between the wars, Balthazar B. is spoiled and wealthy in all regards, except for love. His father dies, leaving Balthazar to be raised by nannies, with an occasional appearance by his haughty, distant mother. On one such visit she discovers that twelve year-old Balthazar and his beautiful nanny, Bella Hortense, have been sharing a bed. Years later she travels to Dublin, where he is attending Trinity College, from Buenos Aires, apparently with the sole purpose of telling him Bella had his son, who he will never meet.
Balthazar's true love, Elizabeth Fitzdare, dies before they can be married. It is years before he discovers why she and her father suddenly cut off contact with him - after a horse riding accident from which she show more never recovered. He ends up being trapped into marriage by a gold digging woman, Millicent - who seems a lot like his mother - and her parents.
Sad as Balthazar's story is, it is highly humorous. His lifelong friend, Beefy, is a troublemaking sexual madman, who draws Balthazar into situations that get them both expelled from Trinity, where Beefy has been studying religion. Maybe no one is more adept than J. P. Donleavy at combining loneliness, scandal, beautiful prose and ribald humor into an elegant, totally satisfying story. show less

A book filled with wit, bawdiness, and pathos - a winning combination in Donleavy's hands. We follow the melancholy life of Balthazar B. As part of the journey, we get a glimpse into the debauchery-filled life of Balthazar's friend, Beefy. Both are in search of a finer life - each with a different vision of what that means. Both are endearing characters. Despite the antics, immaturity, and poor decisions, we care. The touching ending is not out of line with where the book has taken us. Donleavy has a gift in providing raucous stories that inevitably touch hearts and minds amid the laughter and absurdity.

It has been decades since I first read Ginger Man. Given this recent encounter with Balthazar B, I may need to pick up another copy show more and read it again. show less

Finished this a while ago and to add to my initial half-way-through reactions.

Once a darling of the literary world due to his first novel, The Ginger Man, he is now of that period, only old enough to be out of fashion, and I don't know if he'll get to be classic. I was put off Donleavy long ago by failing at my attempt to read The GingerMan and then later by failing also with The Unexpurgated Code: A Complete Manual of Survival & Manners.

Late last year, however, I went to an English booksale in Geneva, which had the following rule: once you had 30CHF of books in your bag, you could continue to fill your bag with books at no further charge. I have not been buying books at fairs and fetes and sales and op shops since I could walk to no show more effect. Stuffing books in bags? It is a skill I could put on my CV. Knowing the rules of the game, I bought various books that otherwise would not have made the cut and this was one of them.

Evidently somebody had died and his books had been donated to the sale. He was clearly a man of literary taste and I hated to see so many of his books just sitting right at the end of the sale, not the sort of thing read these days. Hrrrrumph. There I was, therefore, practically obliged to take this book, by a writer with whom I had no affinity. I wanted it to have a home.

Twenty or so pages into the book, my opinion had not wavered, my previous judgement of him more or less confirmed. I might have stopped reading....but I didn't. And suddenly things turned around. Far from wanting to stop, I couldn't put it down.

The fact is one might criticise this, and perhaps others of his, since I gather Donleavy tends to write about the same thing, for various 21st century crimes. His hero, a tragic hero no less, is a young rich white male. One feels the misogyny of Donleavy and a patronising of 'the lower classes' which goes with his image. He bought a big country house in Ireland and dressed in the outlandish way Balthazar does.

And his comic pieces, which are oddly thrust into the book here and there, once they are set in Ireland, are coarse caricatures. The harridan of a wife, who sets upon her husband and young women, who sees the merest thought of sex as rape. Really? Now we would think like this: that these poor women were divided into those who had to keep becoming pregnant with all the attendant risks and the ones so young they didn't yet understand those risks.

But then I think of the Irish couple I used to know, the tough woman with her eye fixed on her husband, the fact that it was with good reason, since he had lust perpetually in his face, though he may always have been too scared to act upon it.

And in any case, with the bulk of the book lyrically, if harrowingly sad, perhaps these pieces of silliness were essential to provide some balance.

rest is here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpress.com/2020/01/06/the-beastly-beatitudes-of...
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And earlier, whilst reading:

I speak too soon, I haven't finished this yet and maybe it will yet disappoint me.

But how I feel right now: this is an extraordinary book, the style of which is exquisite, haunting, and simple. I've never seen anything like it. And I am in love with it. Quite literally. My heart feels the way a heart does in the headiness of falling for a person, or in this case, some printed pages.

I know that sounds embarrassingly corny, but nonetheless, I feel obliged to record it. And now I'm taking it to bed..... show less

Finished this a while ago and to add to my initial half-way-through reactions.

Once a darling of the literary world due to his first novel, The Ginger Man, he is now of that period, only old enough to be out of fashion, and I don't know if he'll get to be classic. I was put off Donleavy long ago by failing at my attempt to read The GingerMan and then later by failing also with The Unexpurgated Code: A Complete Manual of Survival & Manners.

Late last year, however, I went to an English booksale in Geneva, which had the following rule: once you had 30CHF of books in your bag, you could continue to fill your bag with books at no further charge. I have not been buying books at fairs and fetes and sales and op shops since I could walk to no show more effect. Stuffing books in bags? It is a skill I could put on my CV. Knowing the rules of the game, I bought various books that otherwise would not have made the cut and this was one of them.

Evidently somebody had died and his books had been donated to the sale. He was clearly a man of literary taste and I hated to see so many of his books just sitting right at the end of the sale, not the sort of thing read these days. Hrrrrumph. There I was, therefore, practically obliged to take this book, by a writer with whom I had no affinity. I wanted it to have a home.

Twenty or so pages into the book, my opinion had not wavered, my previous judgement of him more or less confirmed. I might have stopped reading....but I didn't. And suddenly things turned around. Far from wanting to stop, I couldn't put it down.

The fact is one might criticise this, and perhaps others of his, since I gather Donleavy tends to write about the same thing, for various 21st century crimes. His hero, a tragic hero no less, is a young rich white male. One feels the misogyny of Donleavy and a patronising of 'the lower classes' which goes with his image. He bought a big country house in Ireland and dressed in the outlandish way Balthazar does.

And his comic pieces, which are oddly thrust into the book here and there, once they are set in Ireland, are coarse caricatures. The harridan of a wife, who sets upon her husband and young women, who sees the merest thought of sex as rape. Really? Now we would think like this: that these poor women were divided into those who had to keep becoming pregnant with all the attendant risks and the ones so young they didn't yet understand those risks.

But then I think of the Irish couple I used to know, the tough woman with her eye fixed on her husband, the fact that it was with good reason, since he had lust perpetually in his face, though he may always have been too scared to act upon it.

And in any case, with the bulk of the book lyrically, if harrowingly sad, perhaps these pieces of silliness were essential to provide some balance.

rest is here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpress.com/2020/01/06/the-beastly-beatitudes-of...
----------------
And earlier, whilst reading:

I speak too soon, I haven't finished this yet and maybe it will yet disappoint me.

But how I feel right now: this is an extraordinary book, the style of which is exquisite, haunting, and simple. I've never seen anything like it. And I am in love with it. Quite literally. My heart feels the way a heart does in the headiness of falling for a person, or in this case, some printed pages.

I know that sounds embarrassingly corny, but nonetheless, I feel obliged to record it. And now I'm taking it to bed..... show less

Immediate. Crass. Engaging. Compelling. Hilarious. Heartbreaking. Brilliant. Donleavy's book is a flawless and fiery story about 'the last gentleman', Balthazar B. This is unforgettable, and beautiful.

Fantastic. My favorite Donleavy book to date. If you take the likable characteristics of his other characters from Ginger Man, Darcy Dancer, etc. and roll them up, you have Balthazar B. If you're a Donleavy fan, this book is a must.

i love this book.