François Mauriac
The Second SexFrançois Mauriac is discussed through his portrayal of Thérèse Desqueyroux, a young married woman whose experience exposes the distance between marriage as a promised refuge and marriage as confinement. The account follows her from a practical, hurried decision to secure a place in life through the oppressive wedding and the uneasy beginning of conjugal relations, ending with her attempt to poison her husband. Mauriac’s example gives the book a concrete narrative of how a marriage that restricts a woman’s freedom may turn distress into hatred and crime.
Mauriac’s role in the discussion
Simone de Beauvoir introduces Mauriac as a novelist who describes the reactions of a young, reasonably married woman to marriage and conjugal duties. Thérèse’s case appears not as an isolated tale of a singularly bad husband, but as an examination of the institution’s demands and the wife’s predicament within them. The narrative tracks how the meaning of marriage shifts: what first promises safety and a settled place becomes an order from which Thérèse feels unable to escape.
The discussion later returns to Thérèse as one example among wives who, finding themselves unable to act or love freely, seek compensation in inward or symbolic forms of resistance. Mauriac’s portrayal therefore connects an individual character’s story to a larger account of marital dependence, provincial monotony, and the ways frustration may become destructive. Thérèse’s attempt to poison her husband is presented alongside other conjugal crimes, making her story part of a pattern rather than an unexplained personal aberration.
Marriage imagined as refuge
Before marrying, Thérèse seeks less domination or possession than shelter. She is practical and eager to take up what she understands as her station in life, to find a definitive place, and to gain assurance against a danger she cannot name. During her engagement she appears unusually determined and rational; she embeds herself in the family bloc and enters an established order of life. In this account, the desire to be safe helps propel her into marriage, but the refuge she hopes to find already carries the cost of settling into a prescribed role.
The wedding makes that contradiction newly apparent. In the narrow Saint-Clair church, the women’s voices drown out the wheezing harmonium, while the surrounding body odor overpowers the incense. On this day, Thérèse realizes that she is lost. She has entered the marriage as if sleepwalking; when the heavy door seems to close behind her, her sense of being trapped returns. The decisive change is inward rather than a sudden alteration in external circumstances: nothing has changed, yet she feels she will never again be alone.
The family setting sharpens this fear. Thérèse imagines herself smoldering amid the family, like a hidden fire that spreads from branch to branch until the forest is lit. The image joins confinement to a potential for destruction: the domestic world that encloses her does not quiet her distress, but contains something that may flare beyond her control.
Conjugal experience and estrangement
After the wedding, Thérèse’s response to the night ahead is first that it is horrible, then that it is not so horrible. Looking back on the trip to the Italian lakes, she recognizes that she had played the game and had learned to bend her body to its charades. The account does not reduce her experience to one fixed reaction: she can accommodate herself to what is expected and even take a bitter pleasure in her ability to do so, while continuing to imagine sensual happiness more readily than she can claim it as her own.
Her view of Bernard makes the estrangement between husband and wife especially stark. She sees him as easily deceived, absorbed in his own pleasure, and able to classify acts of intimacy without hesitation. She imagines herself as the trough to which he comes for satisfaction. Yet she also says that he is no worse than other men: desire itself transforms the person approaching her into a monster, a different being. Thérèse describes herself as playing dead, afraid that even the slightest movement might provoke violence. The passage thus shifts the emphasis from a simple judgment of Bernard’s individual character to the unequal and threatening experience of desire as Thérèse perceives it.
Her early attempt to imagine happiness in sensuality does not resolve this distance. She tries to picture pleasure as one might picture sunshine behind a rain-soaked countryside, but possibility remains imagined rather than securely lived. Mauriac’s portrayal, as presented here, holds together her capacity to adapt, her speculative hope, and her fear of what conjugal desire makes of the person who approaches her.
Confinement and attempted resistance
In the book’s wider discussion of wives’ limited options, Thérèse belongs to a group of women whose symbolic escape can develop into obsession and crime. The example of the smiling Mme Beudet, trapped in provincial monotony with a boorish husband, provides a parallel: she seeks compensation in romantic musings, flowers, clothing, and attention to her person, but her husband interferes even with these outlets, and she eventually tries to kill him. Thérèse is placed beside Mme Lafarge as another wife who tries to poison her husband. The juxtaposition connects different narratives through the recurring pressure of a marriage that leaves a woman with few ways to act or love.
The discussion distinguishes crimes of this kind from actions motivated chiefly by material interest: some conjugal crimes, it argues, arise from hatred. It also recounts the case of a forty-year-old woman who, after enduring an odious husband for twenty years, was acquitted for strangling him with help from her elder son; the act is described as her only means of escape. This account is not attributed to Mauriac, but it clarifies the wider argument into which Thérèse’s attempted poisoning is placed: when ordinary avenues of freedom are unavailable, revolt can take the form of violence against the person who embodies the confinement.
Thérèse’s narrative therefore ends, in the evidence available here, not with release or reconciliation but with an attempted killing of her husband. Mauriac’s significance in the discussion lies in making that outcome continuous with the story that precedes it: the search for security, the felt closure of the marital cage, and the sustained estrangement of conjugal life all inform the path from marriage to attempted escape.