[In the following review, de Feo explores the role of eroticism in Life Is Elsewhere and Laughable Loves.]

Many of the characters who populate these two volumes [Life Is Elsewhere and Laughable Loves] by the Czech writer Milan Kundera are deeply affected by the erotic element in their natures. Often their strong sexual instincts surprise them. They may play various games and adopt various roles to free themselves from their repressed skins. They find freedom and release, even creative inspiration, in sex. As they make an effort to explore erotic possibilities, they discover sides of their personalities that have previously remained hidden. For some the revelations result in confusion and pain—ugliness and desperation have been exposed. For others the revelations are cause for wonder and joy—a form of beauty has entered their lives.

Life Is Elsewhere is a comic novel that traces the life of a poet, Jaromil, from his birth to his death. Jaromil's mother, Maman, on whom the author focuses first, is a typical Kundera character. Ashamed and unsure of her body for years, she has an affair with an engineer and rapidly becomes aware of her sexual potential, learning "to savor the pleasures of physical existence." After recording this phase in the life of her body, the author notes the next important change—her pregnancy: "It [her body] ceased to be a mere object of someone else's eye, and became a living body …" Two beings then are born: Jaromil, literally, and Maman, figuratively. Kundera wonderfully describes the physical and emotional bond that exists between mother and child. We can understand why Maman later becomes an almost unbearably possessive mother and why Jaromil comes to regard her with so much reverence and fear.

We follow Jaromil's early creative attempts and the comic manner in which his art matures. Once again we have the link between mother and child—as a painter inspires Jaromil to develop his artistic talent, he inspires Maman to toss off any sexual inhibitions she may still have and to live freely. "If we cannot change the world," he tells her, "let's at least change our lives…. Let's reject everything that is not fresh and new." Jaromil eventually adopts this very philosophy ("the religion of The New"), but he does so, the author suggests, to disguise his longing for physical love. In this case at least, eroticism and art are closely related. Jaromil's sexual impulses find expression in his poetry. After spying on the family maid in the bath, Jaromil is inspired to record the stimulating experience, to give it a certain permanence. During the creative process, however, the concrete is transformed into the abstract, an intensely private experience is concealed by the veil of art. Jaromil is somewhat similar to many of the characters in Laughable Loves whose erotic urges cause them to adopt various roles. His sexual impulses lead him to assume the identity of a lyric poet. Later he even emulates a fictional character he himself has created, for that character possesses the freedom that Jaromil has not quite been able to attain.

At times the structure of Life Is Elsewhere grows too slack—particularly towards the end—and at other times the action is not quite convincing: Jaromil's political activities, for example, or the episode in which Maman works with a photographer who is making a film about Jaromil. But these are minor qualms when one considers Kundera's fine ability to dramatize ideas and to stimulate and entertain the reader in the process.

The characters in the short story collection, Laughable Loves, are a very dissatisfied group who long for some change in their everyday lives, anything that will enable them to achieve physical and psychological freedom. In the excellent story "The Hitchhiking Game," a young man and his girl friend assume the roles of driver and hitchhiker to free themselves from their particular identities and to give vent to their hidden erotic impulses. As is often the case with Kundera's people, they allow the game to get out of hand. They attain their freedom, but they completely sacrifice their identities while doing so. The girl behaves like a whore and the young man begins to treat her accordingly. The game ends in mutual disgust. While sexual freedom is an admirable goal, it can sometimes have devastating results. The young couple failed to realize what a potentially dangerous and unpredictable game they were playing. And now that the game has ended and they have exposed highly unattractive sides of their personalities, what next? "There are still," Kundera reminds us, "thirteen days' vacation before them."

The couple in the equally superb "Let the Old Dead Make Room for the New Dead" also play an erotic game, though here the results are somewhat more satisfying. Meeting for the first time after fifteen years, the couple (a man and an older woman) try to recapture the passion of their first and only sexual encounter. Though they are moderately successful, there is more than a degree of desperation in their effort. They long for their youth, but a return to the past—perhaps an idealized past—is impossible. When Kundera notes that "This time the room was full of light," he is not only contrasting the old sexual encounter with the new one, but he is also suggesting that the couple now fully understand the implications of their act. They are too knowing to engage in blind passion. Their desperation haunts them.

The other stories in this volume are perceptive and quite delightful and they are well worth any reader's time, but I don't think that any of them really succeeds as well as the first two tales. For me at least, Kundera's stories work best when they are very tightly structured and narrowly focused. His stories exploring various Don Juan types, like Dr. Havel, are entertaining, but a little too casually developed, a bit too sketchlike. As a result, they lack the impact and intensity of the earlier tales.

The only other work of Kundera's that has appeared in English was his famous political novel, The Joke (which he made into a film). These two new books reveal a different side of the artist's sensibility and talent, and they are very welcome indeed. Though one may occasionally tire of the author's concern—perhaps obsession is a better word—with the erotic, Kundera's originality, intelligence and witty narrative voice are irresistible.