It seems that the author himself became a frequent figure at the Parisian salons and dinners, despite the fact that he frequently referred to himself as a "bear" or a "hermit," hibernating away from the bourgeois society which he held in great disdain.

In contradictions like this one--and Flaubert's refusal to marry, despite the fact that he had many lovers and professed himself "in love" several times--lie the mystery of the author's character which might have led him to identify with the ill-fated Emma Bovary.

Lottman points out these contradictions simply by telling the story, but he never addresses them, and this lack of explanation leaves the character of Flaubert disappointingly flat.

This is particularly true since Lottman obviously did extensive research for the book. The entire narrative is framed around letters to and from Flaubert. Correspondance with his sister, his niece, his friends and his most notorious lover, Louise Colet, give flesh to what is otherwise largely a chronology.

SOME of the letters give tantalizing glimpses into a personality who was as controversial in his lifetime as he still is today, but they are too frequently cut off before the reader's appetite is satisfied. Flaubert seems to have sought the mot juste, the perfect word, as much in his personal writing as in his novels, and the passages which include letters he wrote are beautiful. It would be better to read a collection of his letters than to read Lottman's biography.

The book should be commended for its accuracy and its flow. Although the dates, the detailed accounts of Flaubert's money problems and the cataloging of his often grotesque illnesses can be overwhelming at times, the author's life is by no means dull.

And Lottman does pull successfully the political and social controversies of the times into the narrative, giving the story a context that is far more interesting when he manages not to say whether it was one Saturday or the next Tuesday.

Unfortunately, the incredible detail of the biography overwhelms the reader. Under the guise of a framework, it consistently intrudes on the story and prevents the reader from becoming truly engaged in what was probably a fascinating life.