Madame Bovary

I've just finished this classic book. Well . . .
I'll admit, this book perturbed and annoyed me. Please don't mistake my anxiety for a distasted for Flaubert's writing, but it is the nature of the story that makes me anxious.
Frankly, the story is not uncommon by today's standards, but was certainly ahead of its time. The poor Madame Bovary lives in discontentment; she's discontent with her life as a farm girl, so she marries; she's discontent with her life as a married woman so she gets a lover;
she's discontent with her lover, so she gets a different, younger lover;
she's discontent with her financial status, so she spends limitlessly what she doesn't have. Finally, everything comes crashing down upon her.
And she's discontent with her life-everything that's happened-so she kills herself with arsenic. The whole thing makes me sick.
She dies, leaving behind a husband who loves her so dearly, and is completely incognizant of her other rendezvous. She's destroyed him financially, emotionally, and then leaves behind a completely desolate daughter. It's unbelievably selfish. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is the uncanny parallels that one can draw between her life, and the choices of the madame bovary, and the choices that persons in our modern society are making.
The nature of our society is such that it utterly condones discontentment. The whole mentality of "If you're not happy with your life, change it," is so often miscontrued that now everyone is in a constant state of motion, without any foundation to lean upon.
Madame Bovary is constantly seeking the latest thrills, and it gets her nowhere. It is never enough.
So, what I gained from this intriguing {yet frustrating} novel, is to figure out what you want out of your life, and hold onto what really matters. Don't be so selfish in your desires, and you will turn out so much the better for it.