In each of these novels an extreme tension develops between the daughter and the mother, even turning into a love-hate relationship in The Lover, but always caused by a deep sense of rejection on the part of the daughter, including Maud, at the end of The Impudent Ones, when she becomes pregnant with George’s child. The less violent relationship in this first novel returns to some degree in The North China Lover, where in a more fanciful way the author introduces surprising dialogues between the lover and the mother, whereby the mutual acceptance of the two seems to introduce a hidden desire for reconciliation on the part of Duras in relation to these two central figures portrayed in her works. Nevertheless, the plight of the daughter in each of the novels is much less than enviable when it comes to the mother-daughter relationship (as well as the relationship with the brothers) and produces an extreme and often overwhelming sadness in the daughter’s life.
Other parallels with future novels extend beyond family relationships. The figure of an unreported drowning victim appears in the first two works, with Maud, in the first novel, failing to mention the drowned woman she spots in the river, with serious consequences for the plot, and Francine, the main character in La vie tranquille, leaving undisclosed the fate of a man who drowns in the sea before her very eyes. At the end of The Lover, a young man also throws himself from an ocean liner into the sea, as the narrator and her family cross the ocean—seemingly unrelated events, but producing unsettling echoes.
Certain details of the relationship between Maud and George in The Impudent Ones are reflective of the relationship of the couple in The Lover, without the two sets of lovers being necessarily identical. In both cases, the young woman shows a sudden disinterest in her lover upon arriving at his place with the intent of giving herself to him for the first time, her interest being curiously deflected to her surroundings. However, it is only in the first novel that she is briefly seized with a keen sense of modesty and self-defense that she forces herself to overcome. Following that, the frustration of a relationship with no apparent future and seemingly devoid of love characterizes both of the couples.
When Maud’s first encounter with George is discovered by her family and their host family in the region, who are also upset by her scandalous absence during an entire day, her shame is intensified as the others “devour her pitilessly with their gaze” while she tries to eat her evening meal, suggestive of Anne Desbaresdes’s silent ordeal during the lavish reception in Moderato cantabile. When Maud is with George for what he thinks is the last time prior to her leaving, he kisses her, but “almost without desire,” because of her lack of commitment. “Their joined lips were cold, but they preferred this contact to that of their eyes, which fled from each other.” This, too, reflects the lifeless parting moments of Anne and Chauvin in their last encounter in Moderato cantabile. The final reconciliation between Maud and George, however, appears to be unique to this beginning work, where love brings about the kind of resolution that will rarely, if ever, be reproduced in later works.
Turning now to questions of style, the descriptive qualities of The Impudent Ones are principally linked to place. Situated in the southwest of France, near the town from which the author drew her pseudonym, The Impudent Ones reveals the profound attachment of Duras to the land. Images of hills, valleys, rivers, woods, and fields captivate the reader through their beauty and accuracy in relation to the region where Duras spent relatively brief but memorable periods of her childhood and youth.
Nature is not merely portrayed in general terms, but the precise names of birds, trees, and various types of vegetation create a strong sense of local color that draws the reader into the richness of the landscape and the atmosphere of the passing seasons of this region Duras loved: “Because of the recent rains, the grass was thick and luscious, and the air gave off the fragrance of sap. Thrushes flew low over the fields and the velvety whir of their wings made a rustling noise. From the tops of the tall poplar trees of the Riotor, goldfinches were singing, infusing the azure sky with their voluptuous, triumphant notes.” Richly figurative descriptions of evolving moments of the day and night also contribute to a lyrical effect, as do the multiple depictions of weather—unbearable heat, pounding rain, limpid skies—while all the senses are engaged in the production of a very natural and convincing backdrop to the story.
Although Duras does not appear to return to the same kind of elaborate background description in her later works, her sensitivity to nature and to transitions in time that affect human experience continues to undergird her writing. In Moderato cantabile, for example, the glorious arrival of evening, with all its resplendent colors, contrasts with the suffocating atmosphere of the piano lesson in the first chapter. Nature, the embodiment of freedom, stands in opposition to the sense of imprisonment created by inner spaces and the impositions of society. While the young pupil, dominated by his teacher, can only glimpse the wondrous transformation of the evening sky outside, other children, unimpeded, stand motionless on the quay, awed by the breathtaking hues of the sunset. In The Impudent Ones, Maud is just as moved by evening’s approach, even though it fills her with very divided emotions. “Maud wondered what this gentleness that arose with the evening was, so hard on her heart.”
Despite the rift between nature’s perfection and her unhappy inner state, she is nevertheless attracted to the natural environment, to the point of leaving the door of the family estate open to the nocturnal sounds, scents, and breezes that invade her bedroom at night and unite her with the outdoors: “Maud fell asleep as soon as the breeze died down of itself in the forest… but she woke up abruptly as soon as a fresh breath of wind carrying all the surrounding fragrances returned… It had swept the great depths of the valley, carrying with it, as a result, the scent of bitter algae and decayed leaves.”
The ability of nature to penetrate the characters’ lives is also evidenced in The Lover, where the young girl crossing the Mekong, symbol of the change she is about to undergo, is strangely sensitive to the hazy light over the water and the river’s blurry shores, even as she feels the current flowing noiselessly beneath her like the blood in her veins. Whether revealed in the light of dawn or the dark blue of night, the use of description drawn from nature to create a compelling ambiance and enhance the meaning of the text has always enriched Duras’s writing, from her first novel onward.
Other points of comparison, both major and minor, are easily discernable for readers familiar with Duras. For example, it is George, Maud’s lover, who pays the debt owed by the family at the end of the first novel, and the Chinese lover who pays the family’s debt at the end of The North China Lover. The interplay between various works obviously provides much scope for reflection and analysis. Like a sapling sending out its shoots in multiple directions, the words, characters, and essential components of this initial novel continue to expand and produce an abundance of interrelated themes, as the literary production of the author advances.