Uh-oh, it looks like your Internet Explorer is out of date.

For a better shopping experience, please upgrade now.

Elementary Particles

Elementary Particles

3.9 13
by Michel Houellebecq

See All Formats & Editions

An international literary phenomenon, The Elementary Particles is a frighteningly original novel–part Marguerite Duras and part Bret Easton Ellis-that leaps headlong into the malaise of contemporary existence.

Bruno and Michel are half-brothers abandoned by their mother, an unabashed devotee of the drugged-out free-love world of the sixties. Bruno,


An international literary phenomenon, The Elementary Particles is a frighteningly original novel–part Marguerite Duras and part Bret Easton Ellis-that leaps headlong into the malaise of contemporary existence.

Bruno and Michel are half-brothers abandoned by their mother, an unabashed devotee of the drugged-out free-love world of the sixties. Bruno, the older, has become a raucously promiscuous hedonist himself, while Michel is an emotionally dead molecular biologist wholly immersed in the solitude of his work. Each is ultimately offered a final chance at genuine love, and what unfolds is a brilliantly caustic and unpredictable tale.

Translated from the French by Frank Wynne.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

Editorial Reviews

Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers
In 1998, a French novel created a firestorm of controversy and provoked unheard-of sales in Europe. Written by a virtually unknown 40-year-old computer technician and former mental patient named Michel Houellebecq, Les particles élementaires made a stinging indictment of contemporary Western society through its use of explicit sex, lengthy philosophical ruminations, and corrosive black humor. Now, in its much anticipated English translation, The Elementary Particles appears on these shores.

Houellebecq's book chronicles the fates of two half-brothers, Michel and Bruno, whose lives intertwine with each other and with the events of the late 20th century. Withdrawn and unemotional, Michel conducts cutting-edge genetic research while coldly pondering human frailty. Bruno's compulsive sexual appetites are matched only by his stunning romantic failures, which eventually drive him into an asylum. Together, they represent polar extremes of human existence -- hyper-rationality and hyper-sensualism -- revolving about each other like the subatomic building blocks of the book's title.

For Houellebecq, the so-called liberation movements of the 1960s have led inexorably toward "the suicide of the West." In upending Judeo-Christian morality and fragmenting the traditional family, and in preaching the absolute primacy of the individual, they have created a society in which consumption and the pursuit of transient pleasures -- sexual and material -- are everything. The quest for happiness has petered out in a sea of painkillers and television screens, in dead-end relationships and loveless copulation. Houellebecq's constant references to the behavior of various other species, from insects to apes, imply that humans are really not much different from animals. Society must operate under a strict "moral law" in order to control these Hobbesian tendencies, which manifest themselves in places like Bruno's boarding school, where the merciless tormenting by the other students would scar him for life.

Still, if the author's worldview seems unrelentingly pessimistic -- provoking outrage among the French clergy, humanists, and veterans of the 1968 student movement, among others -- Houellebecq can also be very funny, no more so than when poking fun at the cherished convictions of the New Age hippies with whom Michel and Bruno interact. Their attempts to live "closer to nature" are lampooned mercilessly; Houellebecq clearly believes that nature is something we should want to escape: It is arbitrary and violent, not fuzzy and warm.

Though world-weary to the core, The Elementary Particles concludes on a note of grudging admiration for the human animal, "this vile, unhappy race...tortured, contradictory, individualistic, quarrelsome, and infinitely selfish, it was capable of extraordinary violence, but never quite abandoned its belief in love." Houellebecq's unflinching examination of the millennial West should interest Americans, toward whom many of the book's observations might equally be directed.

Times Literary Supplement
Les Particules Elementaires is a novel on the grand scale. It is almost Balzacian in its attention to detail, and dauntingly ambitious in its determination to tackle 'big themes': the descent of the West into an orgy of consumerism, the decline of Christianity, the potential of human cloning and the destructive nature of the liberal values and sexual permissiveness of the 1960's, which have, in the author's view, atomized society. But as well as being a forcefull polemical tract, Les Particules is a cleverly constructed kaleidescopic work of chronological shifts and leaps. It is also, in places, a very funny book. For more than one reason, the author Houellebecq most brings to mind is Celine; as in Journey to the End of the Night, Houellebecq here interleaves pasages of despair and self-loathing with episodes of tenderness and pathos . . . Unsettling, rich in ideas, Les Particules elementaires is a novel which sets out to provoke and upset, and yet does not try to outsmart its readers. Written in a strightforward style, it has a confident, reassuring narrative sweep . . . Demands to be read.
(French) Elle
The great novel of the end of the millenium.
This remarkable bestseller is France's biggest literary sensation since Francoise Sagan, people are saying, since Albert Camus . . . The passing to a new generation of the literary flame—albeit, in this case, a blowtorch.
Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Houellebecq's controversial novel, which caused an uproar in France last year, finally reaches our shores. Whether it will make similar waves here remains to be seen, but its coolly didactic themes and schematic characterizations keep it from transcending faddish success. The story follows two half brothers, Michel Djerzinski and Bruno Cl ment. They have in common a minor Messalina of a mother, Janine Ceccaldi, who contributed most effectively to their upbringing by abandoning them--Bruno to his maternal grandmother, and Michel to Janine's second husband's mother. Bruno's is the harder life. Abused by fellow students at a boarding school, he grows into a perpetually horny adolescence, his sexual advances always rebuffed because he is ugly and devoid of personal charm. He spends the '70s and '80s exposing himself to young girls or masturbating. After his first marriage fails, he meets Christiane at an "alternative" vacation compound with a reputation for free love, and together they embark on a tawdry swingers' odyssey. Meanwhile, Michel (whose story is told in counterpoint) is so emotionally remote that he is unable to kiss his first girlfriend, the astonishingly beautiful Annabelle. In college, he loses sight of her and devotes himself to science, finally becoming a molecular biologist. Then, at 40, he meets Annabelle again. However, as Houellebecq puts it, "In the midst of the suicide of the West, it was clear that they had no chance." Once death cheats both Bruno and Michel of happiness, Michel develops the basis for eliminating sex by cloning humans. The novel is burdened throughout with Houellebecq's message, which equates sex with consumerism and ever darker fates. The writer also upholds the madonna-whore polarization, pigeonholing his female characters with tiresome predictability. Still, it isn't the ideology that hampers the narrative--it is Houellebecq's touted scientific theorizing, which, far from covering fresh ground, resorts to the shibboleths of popular science. Houellebecq is disgusted with liberal society, but his self-importance and humorlessness overwhelm his characters and finally will tax readers' patience. 40,000 first printing. (Oct.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|
Library Journal
Houellebecq's second work of fiction (after Whatever) arrives with great fanfare, proclaimed as a great novel by critics abroad; the author even rated a feature in the New York Times Magazine. Indeed, the book is grand in its ambitions. At its heart are two half-brothers, Bruno Cl ment, an oversexed, sexist slob of a failed writer, and Michel Djerzinski, a brilliant but affectless scientist. Their mother, who has roots in Algeria, had the two boys in quick succession and then spun off into hippie heaven (this is the Sixties), the self-involved fathers aren't on the scene, and the boys, raised separately by different grandparents, have miserable childhoods. Houellebecq's condemnation of the consequences of Sixties-style liberation is acidulous and ferocious, and one can only nod agreement while reading; if these boys are any evidence, tie-dye was a catastrophe. Tough and direct, the documentary-like writing is complemented by brief scientific and philosophical passages that are fascinating in themselves but aren't well integrated and don't shed as much light as they might. Reading this work is thus not quite the intellectual feast it should have been. Important for literary collections but more problematic than the advance publicity would suggest. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 6/1/00.]--Barbara Hoffert, "Library Journal" Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.
Tom LeClair
Michel Houellebecq's The Elementary Particles is tedious up close and ugly from a distance. Why the novel was an enormous success in France and has been translated into twenty languages is a quantum mystery to me, because the book is soddenly lugubrious and utterly French in its circumstances. Houellebecq follows the lives of two half-brothers, Bruno and Michel, from birth to middle age. Shunted around by their hippie mother and absentee fathers, the boys grow up to be a frustrated libertine-writer who ends up in a mental institution and a frustrated ascetic-scientist who emigrates to Ireland and kills himself after several genetic breakthroughs. Though separated as youths, Bruno and Michel share as adults navel-gazing, vagina-peeping and frequent masturbation, all described with a technical writer's distant objectivity. In fact, the novel pretends to be a biography of Michel, as well as a primer of twentieth-century science, written by a scientist in 2079. Unlike Mitchell, who wants Ghostwritten to be a quantum experiment, Houellebecq knows from the beginning how his book comes out and uses his science to "prove" a sociological thesis: that the sexual and political revolutions of the 1960s in France are responsible for every contemporary malaise Houellebecq can observe. He may well be right, but Bruno and Michel seem invented to demonstrate the author's point. Houellebecq's fictional system is Newtonian, closed and determined by its creator's conservative politics or, perhaps, personal misanthropy. From Pascal to Celine and Sartre's Nausea, the French have a long tradition of disgust. To this, Houellebecq grafts Aldous Huxley futurism. At novel's end, Michel has discovered how to make all humans have the same genetic code and do away with the uniqueness that was "precisely the source of so much human unhappiness." I don't suggest that Houellebecq proposes Michel's solution to what Sartre called "dreadful" human freedom, but Michel's extreme measure indicates the author's degree of disgust with the conditions of present life or, perhaps, all human life. In Ghostwritten, Mitchell's quantum scientist says "human consciousness collapses one lucky universe into being from all of the possible ones." The Elementary Particles is an unlucky universe. Fortunately, readers still have some freedom, can enter the consciousness of both authors. But still--despite quantum physics--only one at a time.
Lee Smith
The book's intelligence is certainly critical, but it is also comprehensive and precise, which, together with its narrative force, is what makes The Elementary Particles a major achievement in contemporary fiction.
Kirkus Reviews
Houellebecq, who writes in French and lives in Dublin, offers a second try (after Whatever, 1999) that's said to be a hit abroad. Often pretentious—or flatfooted—it nevertheless holds the reader solidly with its guess about mankind's biological future.

From the Publisher
"An original work of art–ironic, intelligent and as airtight and elegant as a geometry proof."
The New York Times Magazine

"[A] brilliant novel of ideas... [A] riveting novel by a deft, observant writer."
The Wall Street Journal

"Fearless, vivid and astringently honest…surprisingly funny... [C]an permanently change how we view things that happened in our own lives. Not many novels can do that."
Los Angeles Times

Product Details

Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Publication date:
Sold by:
Random House
Sales rank:
File size:
436 KB

Read an Excerpt


This book is principally the story of a man who lived out the greater part of his life in Western Europe, in the latter half of the twentieth century. Though alone for much of his life, he was nonetheless occasionally in touch with other men. He lived through an age that was miserable and troubled. The country into which he was born was sliding slowly, ineluctably, into the ranks of the less developed countries; often haunted by misery, the men of his generation lived out their lonely, bitter lives. Feelings such as love, tenderness and human fellowship had, for the most part, disappeared. The relationships between his contemporaries were at best indifferent and more often cruel.

At the time of his disappearance, Michel Djerzinski was unanimously considered to be a first-rate biologist and a serious candidate for the Nobel Prize. His true significance, however, would not become apparent for some time.

In Djerzinski's time, philosophy was generally considered to be of no practical significance, to have been stripped of its purpose. Nevertheless, the values to which a majority subscribe at any given time determine society's economic and political structures and social mores.

Metaphysical mutations--that is to say radical, global transformations in the values to which the majority subscribe--are rare in the history of humanity. The rise of Christianity might be cited as an example.

Once a metaphysical mutation has arisen, it tends to move inexorably toward its logical conclusion. Heedlessly, it sweeps away economic and political systems, aesthetic judgments and social hierarchies. No human agency can halt its progress--nothing except another metaphysical mutation.

It is a fallacy that such metaphysical mutations gain ground only in weakened or declining societies. When Christianity appeared, the Roman Empire was at the height of its powers: supremely organized, it dominated the known world; its technical and military prowess had no rival. Nonetheless, it had no chance. When modern science appeared, medieval Christianity was a complete, comprehensive system which explained both man and the universe; it was the basis for government, the inspiration for knowledge and art, the arbiter of war as of peace and the power behind the production and distribution of wealth--none of which was sufficient to prevent its downfall.

Michel Djerzinski was not the first nor even the principal architect of the third--and in many respects the most radical--paradigm shift, which opened up a new era in world history. But, as a result of certain extraordinary circmstances in his life, he was one of its most clear-sighted and deliberate engineers.

The Lost Kingdom


The first of July 1998 fell on a Wednesday, so although it was a little unusual, Djerzinski organized his farewell party for Tuesday evening. Bottles of champagne nestled among containers of frozen embryos in the large Brandt refrigerator usually filled with chemicals.

Four bottles for fifteen people was a little miserly, but the whole party was a sham. The motivations that brought them together were superficial; one careless word, one false glance, would break it up and send his colleagues scurrying for their cars. They stood around drinking in the white-tiled basement decorated only with a poster of the Lakes of Germany. Nobody had offered to take photos. A research student who had arrived earlier that year--a young man with a beard and a vapid expression--left after a few minutes, explaining that he had to pick up his car from the garage. A palpable sense of unease spread through the group. Soon the term would be over; some of them were going home to visit family, others on vacation. The sound of their voices snapped like twigs in the air. Shortly afterward, the party broke up.

By seven-thirty it was all over. Djerzinski walked across the parking lot with one of his colleagues. She had long black hair, very white skin and large breasts. Older than he was, she would inevitably take his position as head of the department. Most of her published papers were on the DAF3 gene in the fruit fly. She was unmarried.

When they reached his Toyota he offered his hand, smiling. (He had been preparing himself mentally for this for several seconds, remembering to smile.) Their palms brushed and they shook hands gently. Later, he decided the handshake lacked warmth; under the circumstances, they could have kissed each other on both cheeks like visiting dignitaries or people in show business.

After they said their goodbyes, he sat in his car for what seemed to him an unusually long five minutes. Why had she not driven off? Was she masturbating while listening to Brahms? Perhaps she was thinking about her career, her new responsibilities: if so, was she happy? At last her Golf pulled out of the lot; he was alone again. The weather had been magnificent all day, and it was still warm now. In the early weeks of summer everything seemed fixed, motionless, radiant, though already the days were getting shorter.

He felt privileged to have worked here, he thought as he pulled out into the street. When asked "Do you feel privileged to live in an area like Palaiseau?" sixty-three percent of respondents answered "Yes." This was hardly surprising: the buildings were low, interspersed with lawns. Several supermarkets were conveniently nearby. The phrase "quality of life" hardly seemed excessive for such a place.

The expressway back into Paris was deserted, and Djerzinski felt like a character in a science fiction film he'd seen at the university: the last man on earth after every other living thing had been wiped out. Something in the air evoked a dry apocalypse.

Djerzinski had lived on the rue Frémicourt for ten years, during which he had grown accustomed to the quiet. In 1993 he had felt the need for a companion, something to welcome him home in the evening. He settled on a white canary. A fearful animal, it sang in the mornings though it never seemed happy. Could a canary be happy? Happiness is an intense, all-consuming feeling of joyous fulfillment akin to inebriation, rapture or ecstasy. The first time he took the canary out of its cage, the frightened creature shit on the sofa before flying back to the bars, desperate to find a way back in. He tried again a month later. This time the poor bird fell from an open window. Barely remembering to flutter its wings, it landed on a balcony five floors below on the building opposite. All Michel could do was wait for the woman who lived there to come home, and fervently hope that she didn't have a cat. It turned out that she was an editor at Vingt Ans and worked late; she lived alone. She didn't have a cat.

Michel recovered the bird after dark; it was trembling with cold and fear, huddled against the concrete wall. He occasionally saw the woman again when he took out the garbage. She would nod in greeting, and he would nod back. Something good had come of the accident--he had met one of his neighbors.

From his window he could see a dozen buildings--some three hundred apartments. When he came home in the evening, the canary would whistle and chirp for five or ten minutes. Michel would feed the bird and change the gravel in its cage. Tonight, however, silence greeted him. He crossed the room to the cage. The canary was dead, its cold white body lying on the gravel.

He ate a Monoprix TV dinner--monkfish in parsley sauce, from their Gourmet line--washed down with a mediocre Valdepeñas. After some hesitation, he put the bird's body into a plastic bag, which he topped off with a beer bottle, and dumped in the trash chute. What was he supposed to do--say mass?

He didn't know what was at the end of the chute. The opening was narrow (though large enough to take the canary). He dreamed that the chute opened onto vast garbage cans filled with old coffee filters, ravioli in tomato sauce and mangled genitalia. Huge worms, as big as the canary and armed with terrible beaks, would attack the body, tear off its feet, rip out its intestines, burst its eyeballs. He woke up trembling; it was only one o'clock. He swallowed three Xanax. So ended his first night of freedom.

From the Hardcover edition.

What People are Saying About This

Julian Barnes
A novel which hunts big game while others settle for shooting rabbit.

Meet the Author

Michel Houellebecq lives in Ireland.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Post to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews

Elementary Particles 3.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 13 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
In the UK, this book is titled 'Atomised' - a more fitting translation, I find. This book is simply a 'must read' for any independent thinker or self-proclaimed (pseudo)intellectual. Houellebecq tears through the formalities of modern day 'civil society' and truly leaves us naked and atomised. One of the best pieces of philosophy and fiction I've read in a long time.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
CR-Buell More than 1 year ago
Hateful, absolutely filthy, and profoundly moving, Atomised (The Elementary Particles ) is a masterpiece. Centered around half-brothers Michel and Bruno, this novel takes an intense look at humanity, and judges it a failure. Bruno is a man cut adrift, unable to make truly meaningful connections. Filled with hate towards, well nearly everything, he seeks to find meaning in sex. And fails. The detached narrative voice while describing, in detail, Bruno's sex acts turns what, in the hands of a lesser author, should be pure pornography into something much more profound. Michel is a different creature entirely. Completely detached from society, he seeks his answers in science. With a bit more success than Bruno. Though these brothers at first seem to be polar opposites, it slowly becomes clear that they are dealing with the same problem, though in vastly different ways. That problem is civilization, or more accurately the Materialism and Individualism which the author sees as the downfall of human civilization. But don't think this is some New Age claptrap about community or somesuch; in fact hippies and New Agers bear the brunt of Houellebecq's scorn. To him the New Age movement is the most selfish and harmful of them all. Atomised is a piercing look into the heart of humanity, and a call to tear all of it down.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
tamesthetic More than 1 year ago
Im not good at reviews because I usually left breathless after reading a work of genius. This book is funny in its sarcastic bite. The writing style is beautiful, almost a stream of consciousness but with lucidity. I love this author. I feel his words. Read other real reviews for a real sense of this book. I'm only gushing here.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
FocoProject More than 1 year ago
There¿s another fun last name for you to play with and an author I had been eyeing for a while, particularly his other popular novel ¿Platform¿, but for whatever reason I started with this one instead. It is a short read, a little more than 200 hundred pages, and a fast read, relating the life of two half brothers, born out of a mother that, pretty much never wanted to be one and should not have been allowed to become one. But things happened, and they boys were born and separated, living with their respective families, namely grandparents that chose to take care of them.

It is a hard life for the boys, a life of torment for Bruno and of solitude for Michel, who early on realize they have only themselves to see them out of this cruel world they have been birthed into. One of them becomes a mediocre writer, part time teacher and complete sex-a-holic, the other becomes a rather successful biochemist/physicist who¿really has very little sex at all. This book relates, in a rather documentary-style, the life of the two boys, through their childhood, their adolescence and their adulthood, with every jarring detail attached, from the painful to read to the too arousing to read.

Oh¿and then there is the little bit dealing with metaphysical mutations, which is explained to you right off the bat, in the first few pages. A metaphysical mutation being the sort of event that changes the world as a whole. For example, you take Christianity. One day we are happy as random people, then comes Jesus, people start Christianity and bam, you got yourself a changed world. Then comes science, which proves evolution and challenges the fundamentals of Christianity and BAM you got yourself another changed world¿¿¿and them comes Michel Djerszinski, who does not even know what he is about to change the world. In fact, even I as the reader could not see how this man would do what the first few pages promised¿until you get to the end and you are just like¿.damn¿¿

For that ending alone, this book is worth the read. Just be aware, if you thought Choke had too much sexual content¿this one will ensure you get another `think¿ on the way.
Guest More than 1 year ago
The book is a must even if you aren't a fascist. Right in line with Nietzsche and Foucoult (though I can't understand the Camus comparisons...). Unless you are a molecular biologist, you will be confused with some rather technical passages concerning biology and the like, so be prepared to consult a dictionary often. Additionally, if you have no background in philosophy you might be lost at times. However, buy it, read it, and digest it if you can. You will be a better thinker.
harstan More than 1 year ago

The major aftermath of the free love movement in 1960s France is the abandoned children that parents failed to raise. Two products of the flighty unions of the hippies are half-brothers Bruno Clement and Michel Djerinski. Their mother had no time to raise either child and their different fathers shared the commonality of never being around them.

The two are separated as youths. However, in spite of some limited success by Bruno as a writer and Michel as a near Nobel Prize level scientist, both share common perversions as adults. Bruno and Michel worship navels and incessantly masturbate. They also flunk out in life as Bruno is institutionalized and Michel commits suicide.

Readers will either recognize author Michel Houellebecq as the modern day Camus or just another biased individual blaming the world¿s woes on the extreme left. This reviewer remains divided about this work. At times the tale read like a powerful eulogy to mankind, but almost as often I felt like quitting without finishing the novel. The story line centers on a look back at the lives of the two siblings, especially that of Michel, throughout the second half of the twentieth century. Mr. Houellebecq takes aim at the hedonist side of the left swinging sixties, but fails to balance the picture with shots at the right me-first excessive eighties. This book is not intended for everyone as the novel is sexually depressingly descriptive and the lead characters even more disheartening. However, those readers who believe that death is the final leveler of humanity will want to read this well-written philosophically morbid maelstrom.

Harriet Klausner

Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Hello. Welcome to Camp L.A, where kids age 10-16 become famous with their talents! We will have Nook Legends to tell you about how they became famous. This lasts everyday until Christmas this year. You can become famous!! Shiloh Bio: Age 13. Naturally curly honey blonde hair, vanilla eyes, wears baggy translucent over-the-shoulder one shoulder shirt over a white strapless top over a red one strap bikini, white shorts with a silver belt, red Ugh's (one of my closest friend's sneaker brand she made up) flats. Her talent is being a medium and singing to ghosts. Stella Bio: Age 11. Strawberry blonde hair, orange summer dress, black Ugh's hightops. Her talent is designing and singing.. PLEASE BE NICE TO OTHER CAMPERS AND MEH! COUNSELER AND ADMINISTRATORS NEEDED! POST BIO HERE PLEASE!! PLEASE DISCOVER PLACES ON YOUR OWN!! ~Shiloh and Stella
Guest More than 1 year ago
Michel Houellebeqc's highly-praised novel 'The Elementary Particles' was a big disappointment to me. Pardon moi, but I have never understood the typical French author. Their stories always seem to involve lengthy periods of glib ennui punctuated by short bursts of meaningless sex and violence. Ditto for French films. The only French author I ever enjoyed was Camus, but that was mainly because of his crystal-clear style of writing. Houellebequ (pronounced Wellbeck) is no new Camus as touted. 'The Elementary Particles' staggers between countless flashbacks and the present like a Parisian wino. Houellebequ raises several questions about the impact of quantum theory which have always intrigued me, then he falls flat on his face in trying to answer them plausibly. The last part of the novel leaps forward into the future where many struggling authors tend to go when they don't know the right way to end a book. In between there is an awful lot of jerking off. In fact the entire novel reminded me of mental masturbation: get all worked up about an IDEA for a book, then suffer the humiliation of premature plot ejaculation and leave the reader to clean up the sticky mess. It's too bad a talented novelist didn't tackle the same subject matter. The startling discoveries of quantum physics and Bell's Theorem are fertile ground for a new kind of fiction. If 'The Elementary Particles' is representative of 21st century literature, I'm glad I won't be around to read the books printed in the 22nd century.