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The exhibition was cut short when the director of the foundation was charged with fraud. Decades of legal wrangling ensued between the Nouailles and the Nordmanns, only resolved in 2014 when a private foundation acquired the scroll for €7m and placed it on display in Paris. But he smuggled it over the border to Switzerland, and sold it to a leading collector of erotica, Gérard Nordmann. Sade’s descendants, the Nouailles family, bought the scroll back in 1929 and kept it until 1982, when they entrusted the publisher, Jean Grouet, with its valuation. His family held on to it for more than a 100 years before eventually selling it to a German collector, who allowed the pioneering sexologist Iwan Bloch to publish the novel for the first time in 1904. Somehow it escaped the storming of the Bastille in the hands of a young man called Arnoux de Saint-Maximin, who then sold it to a Provençal aristocrat, the Marquis de Villeneuve-Trans. Yes, it does but only in the end within the last 11 or 12-minutes of the audiobook as Justine is rescued by her brother who reported it to the authorities, and the perpetrators are brought to justice.Though Sade never saw his scroll again, its story was far from over. But I asked myself the question: Does good triumph over evil in this book. I almost stopped listening to this audiobook due to the extreme, excessive abuse of women and children. The perpetrators are either wealthy, powerful men or society's business professionals and other religious authority figures, such as an order of monks, who prey on these helpless individuals. These victims have either been kidnapped and held prisoner until they are no longer needed and then either released under threat of never telling anyone who did what, or the victim may be killed. This book is not for the faint of heart it is about powerful, sometimes wealthy men who prey on women and children and abuse them in the most unimaginable ways. To conceal the true character of what is happening and what is going on, the book communicates in esoteric and arcane language. It was a very skillfully written book with a lot of euphemisms. I have always heard of this book, and it was not what I thought it was. Into the Minds of Psychopathic Sexual Predators

It's painfully obvious throughout the entire book. Whoever wrote this was a masochist identifying with the main character and trying to justify his leanings. Last but not least, de Sade is clearly not a sadist, at least not on the basis of this book. It beggars belief that generations of intellectuals have taken this puerile crap seriously in any way at all. To make matters worse, every rape and assault is preceded by at least half an hour of pop sophistry masquerading as philosophy, as the abuser attempts to explain and justify what he is about to do. It is all overheated, masturbatory fantasy. Most of it simply wouldn't work, purely on physical level. But the content is so unrealistic that it is immediately obvious that the author has never actually done anything he is writing about. The coy descriptions of the kink scenes could be excused because of the century they were written in. The rest is prolix fillers and endless discussioins about whether what is going on could be classed as good or bad.

Descriptions of women in dialog spoken by the heroine read like a schoolboy talking about a Playboy centerfold. It is all the author pontificating or fantasizing and putting it in the mouths of his cardboard cutout characters. Although there is a lot of text in quotes, none of it is dialog. The tired structural ploy of the story being told in an evening by Justine telling her life to two fellow travelers also stretches any suspension of disbelief far beyond breaking point after the first few pages. Literature? Excuse me? Compared to Justine, the script of your average pizza delivery boy porn video is quality writing, and the plot is even less credible. I decided to read it because de Sade's works have a reputation for being literature, above and beyond all the kink, and I thought I should have a look at at least one of his books. It is the most cringeworthily awful narration I have ever heard on Audible, by a large margin. The normal voices of the readers are passable, but as soon as they try to do dialogue the female characters sound like Teletubbies and the male characters sound bad guy parodies from Looney Tunes cartoon.

This is a comically awful book, made far worse by the even worse narration.