The spiritual stasis of Madame Bovary by Flaubert Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Flaubert's narrative of Madame Bovary cannot be completely separated from the commentary on religion and spiritual deficiency in the novel. Some segments of Flaubert's masterpiece are clearly satirical and, if not bitingly satirical, subtly raise a criticism of the institution of the church. Specifically, Madame Bovary addresses the failure of the church, and sometimes religion itself, to provide spiritual support and hope in the face of fear. Emma Bovary is the embodiment of the hopeless, spiritually depraved sinner whom religion has failed to comfort and whom the church has failed to help. The novel catalogs the journey through which he sets out towards salvation and only reaches the self-induced fate of suicide. One of the first examples of falling away from the faith occurs not with Emma but with her father, Rouault. Rouault's memory is momentarily jogged as he recalls the small delights that the presence of his now deceased wife had once offered him. Bittersweet is evoked as he watches the wheels of Emma's wedding carriage carry her into the world, just as his wife's wedding carriage had dragged her indelibly into her world. Seeking comfort, Rouault contemplates a visit to the church; yet the church, with its ghosts of bliss (marriage) and pain (death) offers no remedy for his wounded sense of spirituality. Of Rouault, Flaubert lets us understand: “He felt sad... and while memories and black thoughts mingled in his brain, clouded by the vapors of the past, he thought for a moment of directing his steps towards the church. But he was afraid that the sight would make him even sadder, so he went straight home." (Flaubert, pg. 870) Precisely in the education of the immoral, even amoral, Emma Rouault, Flaubert infuses comments on the superficial nature of the church as a vehicle of salvation. The ecclesiastical worries weighing on Emma's soul do nothing but rebel her spirit: “The good nuns, who took her vocation for granted, were very surprised to see that Mademoiselle Rouault was apparently slipping out of their control. And in fact they had so inundated her with prayers, retreats, novenas and sermons, so constantly preached the respect due to saints and martyrs, and given so much good advice on modesty and the salvation of her soul, that she reacted like a The horse had the reins too tight: it hesitated and the bit fell from its teeth. (Flaubert, p. 873) As Flaubert later describes, Emma succumbs to carnal desires and with animal abandon engages in adulterous relationships. His extramarital escapades and eventual suicide make a mockery of an institution so bent on spiritual salvation and so confident in its moral application. Plagued by boredom, Emma scoffs at her religious upbringing and blames God for her sober, stagnant position in life: “It was God's will. The future was a pitch-black tunnel that ended in a locked door. ” (Flaubert, page 887) Emma's apathy causes her to abandon any feigned outward interest in those hobbies she once seemed to enjoy. In hopeless rhetoric he asks, “Who was there listening… What was the point of anything?” (Flaubert, page 887) Emma cannot turn to anyone but herself, gnawing more and more at her own desperation. Religion offers her no comfort, only greater sadness: “How depressed she was on Sundays, when the church bell rang vespers! With dull awareness he listened to the broken sound as it rang out again andstill... the bell continued to ring regularly and monotonously. There is nothing spiritually transforming, nothing spiritually uplifting, about the church in Emma's boring world. The ringing of the bells does not arouse anything romantic in her, but rather serves as a metaphor for her life, which flows tediously. Madame Bovary's "Part Deux" opens with the seemingly arbitrary notation about Yonville-l'Abbaye, the town to which Charles Bovary and his restless wife Emma move. Is it a coincidence that Flaubert, a slave to meticulous detail, mentioned that "even the ruins of the ancient Capuchin convent from which it takes its name are no longer there"? Seen in the light of Flaubert's notions of inexorable destiny, this scene of a religious city without churches clarifies the sad progression of time: not even this convent could escape decay and ultimate disintegration. There is a small renovated church in town, but it is across the street from the nicest house in Yonville-l'Abbaye. The church's rotten wooden vault and black cavities present a stark contrast to the luxurious, thriving home across the street. The church and its ruins are left in ruins; the rich lack the gratitude to repair it, and the poor lack the means. It is no surprise then that it is right here, in this decrepit city, that Emma's character will crumble and rot into nothingness. Emma undergoes a spiritual resurrection of sorts, but her insincere contrition quickly dissipates with the prospect of a new lover. Just as her moral character has moved away from the church, so too does Emma move away from the cathedral in the scene of her feverish affair with her second lover, Leon. Without hesitation, the demoralized Emma accepts the pleas of the enthusiastic Leon and climbs into the Parisian taxi that will host the first of their sexual episodes. His escape from the Church is so clearly an escape from his already degraded moral position that one can read a hint of foretold doom when the priesthood shouts to Emma and Leon: “At least pass by the north door!... Take a look at the The Resurrection, the Last Judgment, Paradise, King David and the souls of the damned in the flames of hell!” (Flaubert, page 997) It is as if Flaubert painted Emma in the history of salvation: hers will be among the souls of the damned in the flames of hell. Having gone to Mr. Bournisien, the parish priest, in search of spiritual guidance, Emma Bovary encounters only greater desperation. With an air of indifference the priest puts aside his true, very serious spiritual malaise. When Emma answers his question - "How are you?" - with a plea - "badly" - Bournisien, without understanding, asks why her husband has not yet prescribed treatment. "Ah!" Emma replies. “It's not earthly remedies that I need” The apathetic priest simply continues “to look away, towards the church, where the boys were kneeling next to each other”. (Flaubert, p. 917) Emma reveals a need for salvation, for a source of happiness in her turbulent torment, and Bournisien offers a mean, “But what can we do? We were born to suffer." (Flaubert, page 917) As she lies in bed - a wretch of arsenic and misery - Emma is almost consoled by religion. In recognizing the purple stole of the priest who came to administer her last rites, her mind attaches itself to the "lost ecstasy of her first mystical flights and first visions of eternal bliss." (Flaubert, pg. 1047) Everything is a spectacle, however, and even as she gasps ever closer to death, Emma kisses the crucifix overly ecstatically, still trying to grasp the passion and romantic melancholy that she was so sure that life contained. . Consider in particular the way in which Monsieur.