Platform (French: Plateforme) is a 2001 novel by French writer Michel Houellebecq . It has received both great praise and great criticism, most notably for the novel's apparent condoning of sex tourism and Islamophobia. After describing Islam as "the most stupid religion" in a published interview about the book, Houellebecq was charged for inciting racial and religious hatred but the charges were ultimately dismissed, as it has been ruled that the right to free speech encompasses the right to criticize religions.
The novel and its author have been deemed "prophetic" or "prescient", as the last part depicts an Islamic terrorist attack which bears strong similarities with the bombings in Bali in October 2002, about a year later (and the novel was published on 27 August 2001, a few days before the 11 September 2001 attacks). A similar eery coincidence, involving Houellebecq, Islam and terrorism, would occur 13 years later, when his novel Submission, dealing with Islam again (although in a more nuanced and less confrontational way), was published on 7 January 2015, the day of the Charlie Hebdo shooting.
"Anything can happen in life, especially nothing." ― Michel Houellebecq, Platform
The story is the first-person narrative of a fictional character named Michel Renault, a Parisian civil servant who, after the death of his father and thanks to a hefty inheritance, engages in sexual tourism in Thailand, where he meets a travel agent named Valérie. Valerie and Renault begin an affair, and, after moving back to France, hatch a plan with Valerie's boss (who works in the travel industry in the Aurore group, an allusion to the real-life Accor group) to launch a new variety of package holiday called "friendly tourism", implicitly aimed at Europeans looking for a sexual experience whilst on vacation. Single men and women—and even couples—are to be targeted, and would vacation in specially designed "Aphrodite Clubs".
Initially, the name "Venus clubs"—an allusion to the Villa Venus clubs dreamed of by Eric Veen in Vladimir Nabokov's classic Ada or Ardor—is suggested, but is rejected as being too explicit. It is decided that Thailand is the best location for the new clubs, with the advertising making it clear that Thai women would also be easily available. The tours are to be marketed predominantly to German consumers, as it is perceived that there will be less moral outrage in Germany than in France.
Michel, Valerie and her boss Jean-Yves travel to Thailand on one of their company's tours incognito and enjoy an idyllic holiday. They decide that they will move to Thailand permanently, to perpetuate the bliss they experience there. However, towards the end of their holiday, Muslim extremists commit a terrorist act in which Valérie is killed. Michel is left bereft, and at the end of the novel he travels back to Thailand to die. At this point, the reader realizes that the novel is in fact his suicide note.
The abundance of sex and the sad whining of an anxious middle-aged Frenchman in the first part of the book can cause sharp rejection, until I will never read it again and, only after reading the book, you understand - this is a defensive reaction so as not to think and not understand other people's loneliness and despair, which, yes, is sometimes expressed in sexual fantasies and attending peep shows (remember Erica from The Pianist? well). The world in which we now live is a world of disunity, a world of sterility, a world of loss of illusions, a world of war and terrorism, a world where attempts to find happiness are fragile and easily broken, a world in which human life is worthless, a world in which there are so many pain and despair, a world in which everything is turned upside down, a world in which we cannot find a common language with each other. In fact, this is a wonderful book, about each of us, about our modern civilization, about the search for real, genuine happiness. Is it possible in today's world of war, violence, perversion and terrorism? Houellebecq's heroes tried to find this happiness.
White men travel to exotic countries for the love of local women, white women travel to exotic countries for the love of local men. Not even for love - for pleasure. For primitive animal pleasure, which these same white Europeans cannot give each other, because they have lost something very important in relationships - simplicity, sincerity and the desire to give oneself to another, not for social benefits or for a set of social achievements.
Humanity needs more and more perverted ways to achieve pleasure, for itself, for me, not for another - for itself. At the moment when the ability to merge with another person - spiritually, physically - is lost, then monstrous selfishness and cruelty rule the ball.
But I want love and pleasure, I want it.
What is it? The collapse of Western civilization? The collapse of humanity? Houellebecq is ruthless both to France in particular and to Europe in general: violence against the Marilis on the train, rampant nationalism, terrorism. What is it? Where are the origins of this cruelty? Where does the civilization of the white man originate from, destroying his world and bringing destruction to other local civilizations of the world, ruining the countries of the so-called Third World. What is modern white man culture? American bestsellers that Houellebecq made fun of? Maybe installations of shit or clitoris in 3D? In culture, the framework of decency is blurred and culture itself ceases to be a culture, it becomes marginal and loses its original meaning, it is no longer possible to give a person simple pleasures - sunset and sunrise, the beauty of nature, the transparency of the ocean. You need something perverted, spicy, peppery, you need sado-maso for something to click inside.
And what is left for us to do? Is it possible for everyone to isolate themselves in their loneliness and despair?
A sad and wonderful book that removes taboos on many issues and topics. It is worth considering.
This article was sponsored by John Nyemcsik.
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