The Angel and the Perverts 9780814744185

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The Angel and the Perverts

The Cutting Edge Lesbian Life and Literature Series Editor: Karla Jay P R O F E S S O R O F E N G L I S H AN D W O M E N ' S S T U D I E S PACE U N I V E R S I T Y Editorial Board Judith Butle r Rhetoric University o f California , Berkele y Blanche Wiese n Coo k History an d Women' s Studie s John Ja y Colleg e an d City Universit y o f Ne w Yor k Graduate Cente r

Biddy Marti n German Studie s an d Women' s Studies Cornell Universit y Elizabeth A . Mees e English University o f Alabam a

Diane Griffi n Crowde r French an d Women' s Studie s Cornell Colleg e

Esther Newto n Anthropology SUNY, Purchas e

Joanne Glasgo w English an d Women' s Studie s Bergen Communit y Colleg e

Terri d e la Pen a Novelist/Short Stor y Write r

Marny Hal l Psychotherapist an d Write r Celia Kitzinge r Social Studie s Loughborough University , U K Jane Marcu s English an d Women' s Studie s City Colleg e an d Cit y Universit y of Ne w Yor k Graduate Cente r

Ruthann Robso n Writer Law School , Queen s Colleg e City Universit y o f Ne w Yor k Leila J. Rup p History Ohio Stat e Universit y Ann Alle n Shockle y Librarian Fisk Universit y

Elizabeth Wood Bonni Musicologist an d Writer Women' Committee on Theory an d Cultur e Sa New York University

e Zimmerman s Studies n Diego State University

The Cutting Edge: Lesbian Life and Literature Series Editor: Karla Jay The Cook and the Carpenter: A Novel by the Carpenter BY JUN E ARNOL D WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y BONNIE ZIMMERMA N

Ladies Almanack B Y DJUN A BARNE S WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y SUSAN SNIADE R LANSE R

Adventures of the Mind: The Memoirs of Natalie Clifford Barney TRANSLATED B Y J O HN SPALDIN G GATTO N WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y KARLA JAY

Sophia Parnok: The Life and Work of Russia's Sappho BY DIAN A BURGI N

Paint It Today B Y H.D . (HILD A DOOLITTLE ) EDITED AN D WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y CASSANDRA LAIT Y

The Angel and the Perverts BY LUCI E DELARUE-MARDRU S TRANSLATED AN D WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y ANNA LIVI A

Heterosexual Plots and Lesbian Narratives MARILYN R . FARWEL L

Diana: A Strange Autobiography BY DIAN A FREDERIC S WITH A N INTRODUCTIO N B Y JULIE L . ABRAHA M

Lover BY BERTH A HARRI S

Elizabeth Bowen: A Reputation in Writing BY RENE E C . HOOGLAN D

Lesbian Erotics EDITED B Y KARL A JA Y

Changing Our Minds: Lesbian Feminism and Psychology BY CELI A KITZINGE R AN D RACHE L PERKIN S

(Sem)Erotics: Theorizing Lesbian : Writing BY ELIZABET H A . MEES E

Bisexuality and the Challenge to Lesbian Politics: Sex, Loyalty, and Revolution BY PAUL A C . RUS T

The Search for a Woman-Centered Spirituality BY ANNETT E J . VA N DYK E

/ Know My Own Heart: The Diaries of Anne Lister, 1791—1840 EDITED B Y HELEN A WHITBREA D

No Priest But Love: The Journals of Anne Lister, 1824-26 EDITED B Y HELEN A WHITBREA D

The Angel and the Perverts Lucie Delarue-Mardrus translated by Anna Livia

New York University Press NEW YOR AND LONDO

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NEW YOR K UNIVERSIT Y PRES S New Yor k an d Londo n © 199 5 b y Ne w Yor k Universit y All right s reserve d Library o f Congres s Cataloging-in-Publicatio n Dat a Delarue-Mardrus, Lucie , 1875-1945 . [Ange e t le s pervers . English ] The ange l an d th e pervert s / Luci e Delarue-Mardru s ; translated b y Anna Livia . p. cm.—(Th e cuttin g edge—lesbia n lif e an d literature ) Includes bibliographica l references . ISBN 0-8147-5080- X (clot h : alk . paper).—ISB N 0-8147-5098- 2 (paper : alk . paper ) I. Livia , Anna . II . Title . III . Series : Cuttin g edg e (Ne w York , N.Y.) PQ2607.E24A713 199 5 843'.912—dc20 95-1534 2 CIP New Yor k Universit y Pres s book s ar e printe d o n acid-fre e paper , and thei r bindin g material s ar e chose n fo r strengt h an d durability . Manufactured i n th e Unite d State s o f Americ a 10

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Contents

Foreword b y Karl a Jay x Acknowledgments xvi Introduction b y Anna Livi a i The Angel an d th e Pervert s 6 Notes 21 Bibliography 22

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Foreword

Despite th e effort s o f lesbia n an d feminis t publishin g house s and a fe w universit y presses , th e bul k o f th e mos t importan t lesbian work s ha s traditionall y bee n availabl e onl y fro m rare-book dealers , in a few universit y libraries , or i n gay an d lesbian archives . Thi s serie s intends , i n th e first place , t o make representativ e example s o f thi s neglecte d an d insuffi ciently know n literatur e availabl e t o a broade r audienc e b y reissuing selecte d classic s an d b y puttin g int o prin t fo r th e first tim e lesbia n novels , diaries , letters , an d memoir s tha t are of specia l interest an d significance , bu t which hav e mold ered i n librarie s an d privat e collection s fo r decade s o r eve n for centuries , know n onl y t o th e fe w scholar s wh o ha d th e courage an d financial wherewitha l t o trac k the m down . Their name s hav e bee n know n fo r a lon g time—Sappho , the Amazon s o f Nort h Africa , th e Beguines , Aphr a Behn , Queen Christina , Emil y Dickinson , th e Ladie s o f Llangollen , Radclyffe Hall , Natali e Cliffor d Barney , H.D. , an d s o man y others fro m ever y nation , race , an d era . Bu t governmen t XI

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and religiou s official s burne d thei r writings , historian s an d literary scholar s denie d the y wer e lesbians , powerfu l me n kept thei r book s ou t o f print , an d influentia l archivist s locked u p thei r idea s fa r fro m sympatheti c eyes . Ye t som e dedicated scholar s an d reader s stil l kne w wh o the y were , made pilgrimage s t o th e citie s an d village s wher e the y ha d lived an d t o th e graveyard s wher e the y rested . The y passe d around tattere d volume s o f letters , diaries , an d biographies , in which the y had underline d wha t seeme d to be telltale hint s of a secre t o r differen t kin d o f life . Wher e n o har d facts existed, legend s wer e invented . Th e fe w preciou s an d ofte n available pre-Stonewal l lesbia n classics , suc h a s The Well of Loneliness b y Radclyff e Hall , The Price of Salt b y Clair e Morgan (Patrici a Highsmith) , an d Desert of the Heart b y Jane Rule , were cherished . Lesbia n pul p wa s devoured . On e of th e primar y goal s o f thi s serie s i s t o giv e th e mor e ne glected works , whic h constitut e th e vas t majorit y o f lesbia n writing, the attentio n the y deserve . A secon d bu t n o les s importan t ai m o f thi s serie s i s t o present th e "cuttin g edge " o f contemporar y lesbia n scholar ship an d theor y acros s a wid e rang e o f disciplines . Prac titioners o f lesbia n studie s hav e no t adopte d a unifor m ap proach t o literar y theory , history , sociology , o r an y othe r discipline, no r shoul d they . Thi s serie s intend s t o presen t a n array o f voice s tha t trul y reflect s th e diversit y o f th e lesbia n community. T o help me in this task, I am lucky enoug h t o b e assisted b y a distinguishe d editoria l boar d tha t reflect s vari ous professional , class , racial , ethnic , an d religiou s back grounds a s well a s a spectru m o f interest s an d sexua l prefer ences. At presen t th e field o f lesbia n studie s occupie s a small ,

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precarious, an d somewha t conteste d pied-a-terr e betwee n gay studie s an d women' s studies . Th e forme r i s stil l i n it s infancy, especiall y i f one compares i t to othe r discipline s tha t have bee n par t o f th e cor e curriculu m o f ever y chil d an d adolescent fo r severa l decade s o r eve n centuries . However , although i t i s on e o f th e newes t disciplines , ga y studie s ma y also b e th e fastest-growin g one—a t leas t i n Nort h America . Lesbian, gay , an d bisexua l studie s conference s ar e doublin g and triplin g thei r attendance . Althoug h onl y a hatndfu l o f degree-granting programs currentl y exists , the number i s also apt t o multipl y quickl y durin g th e next decade . In comparison , women' s studie s i s a well-establishe d an d burgeoning disciplin e wit h hundred s o f minors , majors , an d graduate program s throughou t th e Unite d States . Lesbia n Studies occupie s a periphera l plac e i n th e discours e i n suc h programs, characteristicall y restricte d t o on e lesbian-cen tered course , usuall y literar y o r historica l i n nature . I n th e many women' s studie s serie s tha t ar e now offere d b y univer sity presses , generall y onl y on e o r tw o book s o n a lesbia n subject o r issu e are included, an d lesbia n voices are restricte d to writin g o n thos e topic s considere d o f specia l interes t t o gay people . W e ar e no t calle d upo n t o offe r opinion s o n motherhood, war , education , o r o n th e live s o f wome n no t publicly identifie d a s lesbians. A s a result, lesbia n experienc e is too ofte n marginalize d an d restricted . In contrast , thi s serie s wil l prioritize , centralize , an d cele brate lesbia n vision s o f literature , art , philosophy , love , religion, ethics , history , an d myria d othe r topics . I n "Th e Cut ting Edge, " reader s ca n find authoritativ e version s o f important lesbia n text s tha t hav e bee n carefull y prepare d and introduce d b y scholars . Reader s ca n als o find th e wor k

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of academic s an d independen t scholar s wh o writ e abou t other aspect s o f lif e fro m a distinctl y lesbia n viewpoint . These vision s ar e no t onl y variou s bu t intentionall y contra dictory, fo r lesbian s spea k fro m differin g class , racial, ethnic, and religiou s perspectives. Each autho r als o speaks fro m an d about a certai n momen t o f time , an & few woul d argu e tha t being a lesbia n toda y i s th e sam e a s i t wa § fo r Sapph o o r Anne Lister . Thu s n o attemp t ha s bee n mad e t o homogeniz e that diversity , an d n o agend a exist s to attemp t t o carv e out a "politically correct " lesbia n studie s perspectiv e a t thi s junc ture i n histor y o r t o pinpoin t th e "real " lesbian s i n history . It seems more importan t fo r al l the voices to b e heard befor e those wit h th e blessing s o f aftersigh t la y th e mantl e o f au thenticity o n an y on e visio n o f th e world, o r o n an y particu lar se t of women . What eac h wor k i n thi s serie s doe s share , however , i s a common realizatio n tha t ga y wome n ar e th e "Other " an d that one' s perceptio n o f cultur e an d literatur e i s filtered b y sexual behavior s an d preferences . Thos e perception s ar e no t the sam e a s those o f ga y me n o r o f nonga y women , whethe r the writer s spea k o f ga y o r feminis t issue s o r whethe r th e writers choos e t o loo k a t nonga y figures fro m a lesbia n perspective. Th e rol e o f thi s serie s i s to creat e spac e an d giv e a voic e t o thos e intereste d i n lesbia n studies . Thi s serie s speaks t o an y perso n wh o i s intereste d i n gende r studies , literary criticism , biography , o r importan t literar y works , whether sh e o r h e i s a student , professor , o r seriou s reader , for th e serie s is neither fo r lesbian s onl y no r eve n b y lesbian s only. Instead, "Th e Cuttin g Edge " attempt s t o share som e of the bes t o f lesbia n literatur e an d lesbia n studie s wit h anyon e willing to look a t the world throug h lesbians ' eyes. The serie s

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is proactive i n tha t i t wil l hel p t o formulat e an d foregroun d the very discipline on whic h i t focuses. Finally , this series ha s answered th e cal l to mak e lesbia n theory , lesbia n experience , lesbian lives , lesbia n literature , an d lesbia n vision s th e hear t and nucleus , the weighty planet aroun d whic h fo r onc e othe r viewpoints wil l swir l a s moon s t o ou r earth . W e invit e read ers o f al l persuasion s t o joi n u s b y venturin g int o thi s an d other book s i n this series . The first translatio n int o Englis h o f Luci e Delarue Mardrus's The Angel and the Perverts i s a charming additio n to this series. Delarue-Mardrus's nove l about th e hermaphrodite Mario/Mario n belong s t o a n entir e categor y o f Frenc h Literature fro m th e tur n o f th e centur y t o approximatel y 1930 whic h depicte d lesbian s a s member s o f a "thir d sex. " The hermaphrodit e becam e th e visua l representatio n o f th e ways i n whic h lesbian s wer e "different " fro m thei r hetero sexual sisters , an d Rene e Vivien , Natali e Cliffor d Barney , Rachilde, an d Colette , amon g others , share d Delarue Mardrus's fascinatio n wit h th e topic . Delarue-Mardru s wa s an important author , whos e work u p unti l th e publication o f this volum e ha s bee n relativel y unknow n an d unavailabl e i n English. I n a n importan t introduction , Ann a Livi a reread s Lucie Delarue-Mardru s a s a prolifi c an d significan t writer , despite th e fac t tha t previou s scholar s viewe d he r primaril y as th e wif e o f th e schola r an d translato r Joseph-Charle s Mardrus. Livi a als o place s Delarue-Mardrus' s lif e i n a les bian contex t fo r th e first tim e an d decode s thi s delightfu l novel s o tha t reader s wil l fee l quit e a t hom e i n Mario/Mar ion's unusua l world . KARLA JAY

Professor o f Englis h an d Women' s Studie s Pau Universit y

Acknowledgments

And thi s i s where I thank th e man y peopl e wh o helpe d wit h this project . Firs t o f al l De b Shoss , gifte d wit h a ferociousl y keen ey e for typos , who rea d an d correcte d eac h chapte r an d whose enthusiastic comment s mad e rewriting easy ; Karla Jay for insightfu l criticism , helpfu l suggestions , an d amazingl y prompt respons e time ; Nik o Pfun d fo r hi s enthusias m fo r the project ; Kir a Hal l fo r actin g a s soundin g boar d a s I read her m y day' s work ; Veronic a O'Donova n fo r a n informa tive discussion o f th e artisti c sensibility o f th e period; Veron ica O'Donova n an d Kir a Hall' s kitche n tabl e upo n whic h the introductio n wa s writ ; Catherin e Gonnar d an d Marie Genevieve Have l fo r havin g m e t o sta y i n Pari s whil e I di d research fo r thi s book ; Jea n Chalo n fo r graciousl y allowin g us t o reproduc e th e cove r photograp h o f Luci e Delarue Mardrus; an d finall y m y mother, Dympn a Monic a Jones , fo r her wit , intelligence , an d ironi c tur n o f phrase , th e thre e qualities which hav e made m e what I am today .

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Introduction: Lucie Delarue-Mardrus and the Phrenetic Harlequinade

Part One: Lucie Delarue-Mardrus

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Lucie Delarue-Mardru s wa s a phenomenall y prolifi c writer , chalking u p mor e tha n sevent y book s i n he r seventy-on e years o f life , includin g som e forty-seve n novels , twelv e col lections o f poetry , an d tw o film adaptation s o f he r fiction. Yet nowaday s he r nam e i s rarel y mentione d unles s i n con nection wit h tha t o f he r husband , Joseph-Charle s Mardrus , translator o f th e Arabia n Nights , an d hi s distinguished circl e of friends , whic h include d mos t o f literar y Pari s o f th e 1900 s and th e annees folles. Indeed , i t wa s he r husband' s frequen t boast tha t h e ha d mad e Luci e wha t sh e was , an d i n a jokin g divorce settlement , i n whic h h e list s al l h e ha d give n her , h e includes th e nam e "Luci e Delarue-Mardrus, " th e develop ment o f he r personality, th e dail y exampl e o f hi s own wa y of 1

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Introduction

life, he r publishers , an d th e fe w decen t friend s wh o numbe r among th e res t o f he r acquaintanc e (Pla t 1994 : 167—168) . These day s Delarue-Mardrus' s wor k itsel f i s al l bu t forgot ten, sav e fo r th e nostalgi c wistfulnes s o f th e synestheti c firs t line, "L'odeu r d e mo n pay s etai t dan s un e pomme " (I n th e smell o f a n appl e I hel d m y nativ e land) , whil e fe w ca n remember th e res t o f th e poem. 2 When Luci e Delarue-Mardru s wa s a youn g woman , th e Italian poe t Gabriel e D'Annunzi o brough t perfum e h e ha d mixed speciall y fo r her . Th e sculpto r August e Rodi n wa s extravagant i n hi s praise o f he r physica l beauty . Sara h Bern hardt kep t a portrait Luci e had painte d o f he r i n her dressin g room. Th e symbolis t Odilo n Redo n painte d a pictur e in spired b y he r poetry . Belgia n official s invite d he r t o rea d a poem sh e ha d compose d fo r th e Kin g o f Belgium' s birthday . In Beirut, the merchant Prince , Pharaon, thre w roses , armful s of roses , th e whol e harves t o f rose s fro m hi s ros e garden s i n Damascus, a year' s wort h o f preciou s oi l an d ros e essence , into th e wak e o f he r departin g ship . I n 1919 , sh e appeare d in Le Tout Paris a s a famou s personalit y (th e equivalen t o f being feature d o n th e cove r o f Time); i n 1922 , sh e ha d a total o f eigh t requests fo r novel s from suc h prominent Frenc h journals a s Candide, th e Revue de Paris, Intransigeant, an d the Journal. Sh e gav e lectur e tour s i n Belgium , Holland , Denmark, England , Portugal , Brazil , an d th e Unite d States . Yet a t he r deat h a t midnight , Apri l 21 , 1945, Lucie Delarue Mardrus wa s prett y muc h a pauper, dependen t o n th e gener osity o f he r friend s an d livin g o n a smal l pensio n fro m th e Societe de s Gens d e Lettres. In her las t years her manuscript s were sen t bac k t o he r wit h depressin g rapidity , he r nove l Fleurette wa s banne d b y th e Nazis , he r Poemes mignons

Introduction

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were removed fro m th e school curriculum, an d her work an d opinions wer e attacke d b y th e collaborationis t pape r Je suis partout, thoug h sh e ha d neve r bee n prominen t i n an y politi cal contex t an d he r writin g wa s considere d mor e charmin g than radical . Hers wa s no t merel y th e ordinar y declin e o f a n elderl y woman n o longe r i n th e publi c ey e (an d b y "ordinary " I mean neithe r natura l no r merited) , no r th e classi c fal l fro m favor o f a chil d o f th e Victoria n er a i n a natio n whic h ha d seen tw o worl d wars , bu t th e resul t o f a quie t heroism , a n unfailing loyalt y t o th e woma n sh e loved , despit e famil y quarrels, th e distast e o f he r publishers , th e terrifyin g ris e of anti-Semitism , an d interrogatio n b y th e Gestap o durin g the Occupation . For , despit e th e fanfar e o f he r marriag e t o Joseph-Charles (th e initials "J.-C. " were affectionatel y inter preted a s a n abbreviatio n fo r Jesu s Chris t b y hi s friend s and familiars) , Luci e ha d alway s bee n primaril y attracte d t o women. Othe r commentator s hav e concentrate d o n dis cussing th e Mardru s a s a couple . Sinc e th e marriag e wa s t o last onl y fifteen year s and , a s I will argue , i t was he r wome n friends wh o ha d th e greates t influenc e o n Lucie , I prefer t o trace he r growin g affectio n fo r women , rathe r tha n empha size the importanc e o f Joseph-Charles . Born i n 1874 , th e younges t o f si x sisters , daughter s o f a wealth y an d successfu l shippin g lawyer , Luci e Delarue Mardrus spen t a n idylli c childhood i n a mansion i n Honfleu r on th e Normand y coast , surrounde d b y a gree n an d expan sive par k o f fou r hundre d an d fort y acres , complet e wit h dogs, goats , ducks , an d a plentiful suppl y o f Englis h govern esses. Th e si x littl e girl s (whos e childhoo d i s recapture d i n Delarue-Mardrus's he Roman de six petites filles, Th e nove l

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Introduction

of si x little girls) wer e given th e ru n o f th e estate , but forbid den t o mi x wit h othe r childre n eve n t o th e exten t o f sharin g catechism lesson s wit h th e childre n o f Honfleur . The y gre w up free-spirite d bu t naiv e an d almos t completel y ignoran t o f matters heterosexual . The bi g events in Lucie's memoirs (whic h read s sometime s like a diary) , th e one s whic h sh e preface s "I n Provin s a n unexpected fair y tal e awaite d me " (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 78) o r "A n importan t adventur e awaite d m e when I returned from Vasouy " (ibid.) , tel l o f he r successe s wit h men . Sh e writes, fo r example , o f he r meetin g wit h a youn g foreig n composer wh o becam e he r fiance fo r a fe w weeks ; th e nigh t she me t th e youn g Captai n Petain—h e wh o wa s t o becom e Marechal Petain , leade r o f collaborationis t France—an d went fo r a midnigh t wal k wit h hi m whil e h e calle d he r hi s blue lotus ; o f he r friendshi p wit h Gasto n d e B. , who begge d her t o marr y him . Yet he r description s o f thes e me n ar e cool , passionles s compared wit h th e feeling s sh e expresse s fo r th e wome n sh e falls i n lov e with . Gasto n d e B. , fo r example , seeme d mor e like a mento r tha n a sweethear t an d ofte n bore d her . H e was, in short, " a thrill-les s companion" (92) . Captain Petain , despite hi s wid e knowledg e o f ar t an d music , apparentl y already ha d th e col d loo k whic h wa s t o characteriz e th e Marechal ( n o ) . O f he r almost-fianc e sh e writes, " I was soo n persuaded tha t I loved him" (85) , this emotion bein g arouse d by hi s virtuos o performanc e o n th e pian o an d hi s poeti c poverty. On e day , th e tw o wer e alon e togethe r lookin g ou t at th e water s o f th e estuary , whe n h e too k he r gentl y b y th e shoulders an d kisse d her . Lucie , ninetee n a t th e time , ha d been imaginin g thi s kis s sinc e sh e wa s fifteen year s old , sur e

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that whe n i t cam e i t woul d mak e he r fain t wit h pleasure . Instead sh e fel t nothin g a t all , bu t foun d th e whol e even t uncomfortable, withou t pleasur e o r joy , an d caugh t hersel f coldly lookin g o n a t th e scen e a s thoug h sh e wer e someon e else. She remarks impersonall y tha t th e gestur e wa s repeate d several time s durin g th e season , an d eac h tim e sh e fel t les s and les s fo r th e musician . Sh e wa s relieved , therefore , whe n her father , discoverin g som e mildl y damnin g informatio n about th e youn g man' s background , pu t a n en d t o th e rela tionship an d sen t th e youn g ma n home . A ver y differen t impression thi s tha n he r adoration , a t th e ag e o f six , o f a playmate's mother , wh o picke d he r u p impetuousl y an d se t her o n he r lap . Writing he r memoir s nearl y sixt y year s later , although sh e cannot remembe r wha t th e woman looke d like , Lucie stil l feel s th e joy , complete , unique , an d ecstati c o f sitting o n th e woman' s knee . Sh e didn' t eve r wan t t o ge t down. A s her playmat e calle d he r awa y sh e fel t a n inconsol able sadnes s an d reflects , "tha t wa s th e first passio n o f m y life" (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 31) . When th e fourteen-year-ol d daughte r o f som e distan t rela tives cam e t o sta y a t th e famil y estat e i n Honfleur , Luci e listened wit h a mixtur e o f horro r an d fascinatio n t o th e details o f wha t wen t o n durin g th e infamou s weddin g night . Though sh e learne d al l th e word s t o th e smutt y song s he r friend sang , pu t o n make-u p an d tilte d he r bere t a t a rakis h angle "s o a s t o loo k lik e a tart, " sh e seem s t o hav e avoide d the heterosexual imperativ e inheren t i n these lessons. Instea d she develope d a crus h o n he r friend' s mothe r o f th e sam e intensity a s th e passio n sh e ha d fel t a t si x year s old , an d spent hour s writin g poems , whic h sh e neve r dare d giv e her . When a quarre l ble w u p betwee n th e woma n an d Lucie' s

6

Introduction

mother, causin g Lucie' s lov e objec t t o leav e th e estate , Luci e was heartbroken . Fo r a while . Until , a t he r sister' s weddin g (a gran d affai r lastin g thre e days) , a strang e woma n gues t caught he r attention , o r rather , he r imagination , an d con soled he r fo r th e los s of he r beloved . Lucie describe s thes e passion s a s stron g bu t fleeting, on e passing fanc y eclipse d b y th e next , an d ye t the y cause d he r considerable anguis h an d sou l searching . A t eightee n sh e attended th e Institu t Norma l Catholiqu e i n Pari s wit h he r sister Georgin a (wh o wa s late r t o becom e a nun ) an d hope d that unde r th e benig n influenc e o f th e Catholi c churc h sh e would succee d i n drivin g ou t he r "ba d thoughts " an d em brace the faith . But , she notes, the despair remained . Instead , she becam e infatuate d wit h a frien d o f he r siste r Charlotte , and turne d he r bac k o n th e morall y improvin g literatur e sh e should hav e bee n readin g t o writ e sonnet s fo r he r ne w ido l as she had befor e i n Honfleur . Thi s tim e sh e gathered u p th e courage t o giv e the m t o th e woma n fo r who m the y wer e written, bu t she , a col d Protestant , wa s markedl y unenthusi astic. This wa s no t t o b e th e en d o f th e story , however , fo r th e cold Protestan t cam e t o visi t Charlott e i n Normand y an d Lucie discovere d t o he r pleasur e tha t th e ol d infatuatio n wa s still there. After dinne r on e nigh t som e of th e girl s took thei r guest ou t int o th e field s s o the y coul d se e th e light s o f L e Havre twinklin g i n th e distance . Waitin g unti l sh e wa s as sured o f secrec y i n th e shelterin g dar k o f th e trees , th e col d Protestant ben t quickly over Lucie, who, thinking she wanted to whispe r somethin g i n he r ear , lean t towar d her . Suddenl y she felt th e other' s lip s on hers . This secon d kiss , so differen t from th e first offered b y her designate d suitor , which ha d lef t

Introduction

7

her completel y indifferent , move d he r t o th e ver y cor e an d nearly mad e he r cr y out . "Trembling , inflamed , thi s tim e i t lived u p t o m y dreams . I would hav e give n m y lif e itsel f fo r a secon d kis s lik e that " (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 86) . Th e Protestant, however , turne d col d agai n an d chatte d animat edly wit h Lucie' s sister s s o tha t he r youn g frien d coul d no t even take her arm . These infatuation s were , i t seems , a trainin g groun d fo r Lucie's passion fo r Imperi a d e Heredia (wif e of the poet JoseMaria d e Heredia) , whos e first word s o n seein g Lucie , the n twenty-one years old, were the surprised exclamation , "You r daughter i s simpl y ravishing! " (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 99) . Lucie wa s immediatel y smitten . Imperia , the n i n he r forties , had grow n u p i n diplomati c circles , spok e fou r o r five lan guages, wa s culture d an d artisti c an d o f a lon g aristocrati c lineage. Fo r Luci e sh e represente d poetry , mystery , beauty , nobility, pleasure , an d romanticism : a powerfu l combina tion. Imperi a an d on e of he r daughter s wer e invited t o spen d a fortnigh t a t th e Delaru e estat e an d Luci e recount s ho w he r father too k a part y o f the m ou t i n th e carriag e t o visi t a chateau nea r on e o f hi s shoots . Th e da y sh e spen t i n th e company o f thi s woman wa s to remai n i n Lucie's memor y a s one o f th e mos t emotiona l event s o f he r life . Th e detail s stil l stand ou t i n he r min d fort y year s later , fro m th e ol d chateau refurbished i n a mock-medieva l style , t o th e simpl e littl e church o f Carbec , afternoo n te a a t a loca l farmer's , th e washer-women beatin g thei r clothe s dow n b y th e riverside , and Imperia' s word s i n th e carriag e o n th e wa y home , "When evenin g falls , a kind o f melanchol y passe s over . Thi s little one is feeling tha t a t this moment, I believe." Lucie even remembered th e name of the farmer: "Dagoubert " sh e recalls

8

Introduction

proudly, an d i t i s no surpris e t o lear n tha t sh e rides dow n t o Carbec ever y year t o reliv e the memories o f tha t day . After man y visit s betwee n th e tw o families , ther e finally came a da y whe n Luci e an d Imperi a foun d themselve s alon e together i n the bedroom o f the Parisian fla t where Lucie slep t with he r mothe r an d sister , Georgina . Imperi a wa s sittin g i n a chair , Luci e wa s crouchin g i n fron t o f a ches t o f drawers , searching fo r somethin g sh e wante d t o sho w her . Suddenl y Lucie turne d asid e and , finding hersel f kneelin g befor e her , laid he r arm s i n Imperia' s la p an d whispered , "I' m afrai d of you! " "Why?" aske d Imperia , smiling . In a n eve n softe r voice , Luci e murmured , "Becaus e I' m afraid o f lovin g you to o much. " "You're afrai d o f lovin g m e to o much ? On e ca n neve r love too much . Yo u . . . " But sh e sai d n o mor e becaus e Luci e ha d throw n hersel f against he r an d Imperi a kisse d he r passionately . A momen t afterward, however , Imperi a ha d withdraw n t o a glacial distance, murmuring i n horror, "Wha t woul d you r fathe r sa y if he knew ? He' s jus t nex t doo r . . ." (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 106). This muttered fea r gav e her away, however, fo r instea d of th e forma l vous for m sh e usuall y use d whe n speakin g t o Lucie, in the heat o f th e moment sh e had sai d tu. It wa s wit h a mixtur e o f deligh t an d terro r i n he r hear t that Luci e went ou t with he r mothe r an d siste r Georgina tha t night, thoug h sh e remembere d nothin g o f th e evenin g itself . She ha d hear d th e tu an d i t stirre d he r hear t s o muc h tha t she woul d clos e he r eye s whe n sh e though t o f it . Give n th e extreme formalit y o f th e uppe r clas s o f th e period , th e littl e word tu act s a s a declaration o f love . Certainl y Luci e experi -

Introduction

9

enced al l th e confuse d an d conflicte d emotion s o f first love , feeling lik e a marke d woman , a los t sou l damne d b y th e Christian church , an d ye t at the same time a s though sh e ha d just bee n born . Sh e spen t a sleeples s nigh t thinkin g o f thi s passion fo r whic h sh e could dar e anything : dishonor , prison , death, o r murder . I n th e mornin g sh e wrot e a poe m fo r he r beloved whic h sh e ran t o th e post office t o mail . But, like th e cold Protestant befor e her , Imperia mad e no comment, tryin g to preten d th e inciden t ha d neve r take n place . Luci e wa s forced t o kee p he r feeling s t o herself , thoug h sh e later wrot e of the m i n he r novel s UAcharnee (Th e woma n i n ho t pur suit) (1910 ) an d Le Beau Baiser (Th e beautifu l kiss ) (1929) . When th e famil y returne d t o Normand y fo r th e summer , Lucie too k t o wanderin g alon g th e estuar y fo r hours , bare foot, alone , an d wearin g onl y a nav y blu e smoc k an d a necklace o f rowa n leaves . The images o f th e se a in Occident, her first collectio n o f poetry , wer e compose d durin g thes e days o f gazin g a t th e san d an d th e wave s an d thinkin g o f Her. On th e fifth o f Jun e 1900 , Luci e marrie d Joseph-Charle s Mardrus, translato r o f th e Arabia n Nights . Luci e ha d me t Joseph-Charles a t a dinne r organize d b y he r friend , Mari e Bengesco, shortly afte r th e family's retur n fro m thei r summe r in Normandy , th e summe r Luci e ha d spen t gloomil y pacin g the stran d i n he r blu e smock , thinkin g o f Imperia . Th e da y after thi s dinner , Joseph-Charle s wen t t o th e Delaru e hous e and aske d he r fathe r fo r he r han d i n marriage , declarin g Lucie to be, quite simply, "on e of the best poets of the Frenc h language," though non e of her poems had yet been publishe d and h e ha d hear d the m recite d a t dinne r only . Wher e th e Delarue famil y wer e stai d an d conventional , Lucie' s hus -

IO

Introduction

band-to-be wa s impulsiv e an d eccentric . Unlik e he r sister , Charlotte, whos e marriag e too k plac e with al l due ceremon y over thre e day s o n th e famil y estate , Luci e wa s married , a t her husband' s orders , i n th e bicyclin g gea r tha t wa s al l th e rage amon g th e beautifu l peopl e o f 1900 : Zouav e breeches , a chec k dres s wit h roya l blu e trim , an d a stra w boater , he r hands covere d i n th e preciou s stone s Docto r Mardru s ha d brought bac k fro m Ceylon . A s on e criti c commented , "Fo r 1900 styl e it would b e hard t o find better" (Bill y 1951 : 226). Thus Lucie , a t th e ag e o f twenty-six , havin g slep t i n he r mother's roo m wit h he r siste r al l the tim e th e famil y live d i n Paris, wa s marrie d befor e sh e kne w wha t wa s happening . She ha d no t ye t recovere d fro m he r thre e yea r passio n fo r Imperia an d trustingl y tol d he r husban d th e stor y o f he r infatuation, showin g hi m a photograp h sh e ha d o f th e woman. Joseph-Charle s looke d calml y a t th e picture , de clared "sh e wa s beautiful, " puttin g th e affai r firmly i n th e past tense , an d tor e th e phot o t o piece s (Delarue-Mardru s 1938: 119) . Fo r hi m i t wa s nothin g bu t a boardin g schoo l romance, o f n o interes t an d n o importance . I n thi s hi s opin ion wa s entirel y conventional , fo r lesbia n passion s ar e fre quently dismisse d a s merely a phase, even when, a s in Lucie' s case, they las t a lifetime an d surviv e th e stormies t o f roman tic marriages . Lucie , however , knowin g he r ow n emotion s better tha n he r husband , wa s certai n tha t sh e woul d neve r feel suc h heartach e agai n i n he r life . " I n o longe r ha d a moment t o thin k ove r m y passio n fo r Imperia " (Delarue Mardrus 1938 : 124) , she reflects . It wa s no w he r dut y t o se t abou t gettin g t o kno w an d understand th e man sh e had married, a hard task, for Joseph Charles wa s a quick-tempered , unpredictabl e ma n wit h a

Introduction

II

love o f th e dramatic . H e woul d stan d nake d i n th e doorwa y when th e landlad y cam e t o collec t th e rent , an d fel l ou t wit h Guillaume Apollinair e ove r a cat h e i s reputed t o hav e kille d (Barney i960 : 155) . In time Lucie did indee d com e to under stand hi m a s no on e else did, but sh e never seem s to have fel t for hi m th e passion sh e reserved fo r women . To giv e hi m hi s due , i t mus t b e sai d tha t i t wa s Joseph Charles wh o introduce d Luci e t o Frenc h literar y society , he r first poem s bein g publishe d i n th e Revue Blanche o n whic h he collaborated , an d i t was t o hi m mor e tha n t o anyon e els e that sh e owe d th e succes s o f he r literar y career . Thoug h sh e had mad e friend s o f he r own , Sull y Prudhomme , Siriey x d e Villers, Helen e Vacaresco , Sara h Bernhardt , Edmon d Ros tand, Rober t d e Montesquiou , Marguerit e Durand , an d th e editors o f La Fronde —not a ba d collectio n fo r a youn g poet—her poetr y wa s no t take n seriousl y unti l he r husband , already th e tal k o f Pari s fo r hi s translations , presente d he r himself. A t th e ag e o f twent y sh e ha d show n he r poem s t o Francois Coppee , wh o spen t a fe w second s flickin g throug h them, enquire d whethe r i t amuse d he r t o writ e poetr y an d then advise d he r t o tak e u p sewin g instead . Th e wif e o f Joseph-Charles Mardru s wa s muc h harde r t o dismiss . One o f th e ne w acquaintance s Lucie' s poetr y brough t he r was th e Englis h lesbia n poe t Rene e Vivien , whos e poetr y book sh e received on e mornin g i n the mai l with a dedicatio n full o f prais e fo r Lucie' s poems . Luci e foun d a certai n simi larity betwee n Renee' s "sapphi c volume " an d th e one s sh e herself ha d writte n fo r Imperia . Impulsively , sh e invite d Re nee t o visi t bu t wa s no t particularl y impressed , describin g her a s a blond e youn g woma n wit h discourage d shoulder s and brow n eyes , negligentl y dressed . Renee' s conversatio n

12

Introduction

was bana l an d he r demeanou r tha t o f a rathe r ordinar y British gir l lookin g fo r a husban d (Delarue-Mardru s 1938:143). Lucie was struck, however , by her heavy, delicat e eyelids an d he r lon g blac k lashes , feature s whic h sh e wa s later t o giv e to littl e Pierre , Aimee d e Lagres' s unwante d so n in The Angel and the Perverts. Sh e was much more impresse d by Renee' s friend , Evalin a Palme r an d he r old-fashione d beauty—Evalina ha d strikin g re d hair , whic h hun g dow n t o her fee t an d a face a s pale a s a Pre-Raphaelite angel . It wa s i n Evalin a Palmer' s bo x a t th e theatr e tha t Luci e first me t Natali e Cliffor d Barney . I n he r memoir s sh e state s stoutly tha t Natali e was , is , an d wil l remai n on e o f he r dearest friend s (144) , bu t befor e thei r relationshi p reache d the firm groun d o f abidin g friendship , Luci e wa s t o g o through ye t anothe r passionat e bou t o f unrequite d lov e wit h its associate d pain , rage , an d jealousy . Barne y describe s he r first meetin g wit h Luci e i n unambiguousl y sexua l terms , "Mme Mardru s wa s sli m an d quit e tal l i n a princes s gow n which moulde d he r perfectl y symmetrica l figure. On e fel t that i n th e nud e suc h a bod y woul d occasio n n o disappoint ment" (Barne y 1960:147) . Clearl y fro m th e first Barne y wa s undressing Luci e with he r eye s an d feelin g well-please d wit h the result . Fo r he r part , Luci e wa s well-use d t o arousin g feminine attention . Onc e more , sh e committe d al l tha t sh e could no t sa y to vers e in a series of poems , which sh e sent t o Natalie an d whic h Natali e publishe d anonymousl y i n 1957 , twelve years after Lucie' s death, as Nos secretes amours (Ou r secret loves) . Th e poems , writte n betwee n 2 7 Novembe r 1902 an d 2 7 Augus t 1903 , expres s Lucie' s violen t desire , Natalie's reluctance , an d Renee' s incorporea l presenc e eve n when Luci e an d Natali e ar e alon e together—perhap s th e

Introduction

13

reason fo r Lucie' s brusqu e dismissa l o f Renee' s attraction s and he r championin g o f Ev a Palmer . Te vouloir, t e vouloir! Et n'etre qu'un e femm e Sur le bord defend u d e ta felicit e (To want you , to want you ! And t o b e but a woma n On th e forbidde n edg e of you r happiness. ) Malgre la nuit d e joie et les portes fermee s Je ne suis pas seul e avec to i Gomorrhe brul e autou r d e nous ! (Despite the night o f jo y an d th e close d door s I am no t alon e with yo u Gomorrha burn s aroun d us. ) Je t'attaquerai, j e t'estropierai! L e bel et bref eclai r qu e ferai t un e lame ! (I will attac k you , I will crippl e you ! The fine shor t glea m o f a knife' s blade!) (Plat 1994 : 108-109 )

The sharp-edge d keennes s o f Lucie' s desir e fo r Natalie , he r despair a t findin g Natali e stil l haunte d b y memorie s o f Re nee, an d th e desperat e cr y o f frustratio n conveye d i n thes e poems contras t starkl y wit h thos e Luci e wa s writin g t o he r husband a t th e sam e period . He r thought s o f hi m ar e ex pressed i n sad , cal m verse s of childlik e trus t an d sweetness . Toi qu i m'aimes , berce-moi contr e to i car voic i qu'alangui e e t toute mort e d e tendress e mon am e amer e s' y endor t comme u n peti t enfan t su r l e bras qu i l a porte. (Pla t 1994 : i n ) (You who lov e me, rock m e against yo u for here , languid an d quit e dead o f tendernes s my bitter sou l fall s asleep )

Lucie looke d upo n me n a s friend s an d companions , ac cepted the m a s admirers , bu t kep t he r passio n fo r women .

14

Introduction

Natalie remarke d tha t Luci e attracte d jus t a s man y wome n as me n aroun d her , addin g mischievousl y tha t severa l o f Lucie's femal e admirer s ha d no t admire d i n vain. Sh e contin ues wit h a lis t o f wome n wh o kep t compan y wit h Luci e a t different times : Dor a Stroiv a wit h he r guitar , Suz y Doye n and he r sister , Edme e Daude t an d Simon e Chevalie r wh o came t o as k he r advic e o n he r firs t poem s (Barne y i960 : 168). Ironically , perhaps , Luci e devote s a pag e o f he r mem oirs t o th e subjec t o f youn g wome n wh o writ e lov e poem s and sen d thei r passionat e outpouring s t o th e olde r wome n they ador e (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 107) . Luci e describe s such adoratio n a s a damn nuisanc e (u n embetement). Earlier , recalling he r carefu l upbringin g o n th e famil y estate , Luci e has explaine d tha t eve n th e phras e "j e m'embete " (I' m bored) wa s considere d ba d for m (70) . Thu s th e us e o f th e related ter m "embetement " her e emphasize s he r impatienc e at bein g th e caus e o f suc h youthfu l attractions . Sh e throw s the poems , unread , int o th e trash , o r s o sh e says . Natali e Barney, les s concerne d wit h bourgeoi s opinion , migh t hav e told a different story . Joseph-Charles seem s t o hav e regarde d hi s wife mor e a s a priceless treasur e tha n a sexual partner. Hi s pet-name fo r he r was th e rathe r col d "l a Princess e Amande, " Princes s Al mond, becaus e o f he r flawles s whit e skin ; her s fo r hi m wa s "le Calif e Oeil, " Calip h Eye , suggestin g a certai n fea r o f surveillance. Luci e believe d tha t hi s sudde n desir e fo r he r was "tou t intellectuel " (entirel y intellectual ) an d hi s od d request t o Natali e Barne y seem s to bea r thi s out . Dear Blond e one , blond e whos e fles h i s lik e tha t o f a banana , I shal l pu t your friendshi p t o th e test . Yo u recognize , a s I do, the poetic geniu s o f th e Princess Almon d an d tha t sh e mus t sav e hersel f entirel y fo r he r work . I

Introduction

15

cannot, then , as k he r t o bea r frui t o f a different kind . Ye t a child betwee n us woul d b e mos t welcome . You r friend , th e Grea t Crab , believe s tha t i t would b e a goo d divisio n o f labo r i f yo u wh o ar e idle , youn g an d a s healthy a s one coul d wis h for , i f yo u woul d bea r thi s chil d whic h I woul d beget wit h yo u wit h al l th e estee m an d affectio n I ow e you . (Barne y i960: 167 )

Natalie apparentl y replie d t o thi s innocent propositio n with out rancor , explainin g tha t whil e i t wa s a mos t flatterin g proposal sh e coul d no t d o violenc e t o he r ow n natur e eve n for a singl e occasion , o r wit h suc h a n importan t goa l i n mind. Sh e an d Luci e discusse d th e matte r wit h grea t hilarit y afterwards, preferrin g t o se e i t a s on e o f Joseph-Charles' s little eccentricitie s an d ignorin g an y mor e seriou s impor t i t might hav e had . The lov e o f Luci e Delarue-Mardrus' s late r lif e wa s th e Jewish oper a singer , Germain e d e Castro , who m sh e me t o n 17 Novembe r 1932 , a t th e ag e o f fifty-eight. I t wa s Ger maine's voice which captivate d her . "He r voice , my drug, my morphine!" sh e woul d exclaim . I n he r memoir s sh e trie s t o explain wha t i t was tha t attracte d he r t o th e singer , her magnificen t generosity ; he r unselfconsciou s courage ; he r tende r sensi tivity; th e complete , almos t stunnin g lac k o f small-mindednes s . . . ; th e scrupulous conscientiousnes s sh e bring s t o he r wor k a s a n artis t . . . ; he r native sadness , offset b y an invigoratin g gaiety , al l this, even the crudenes s of he r speec h an d th e brutalit y o f he r indomitabl e franknes s whos e barb s I have sometime s suffered . (Delarue-Mardru s 1938 : 310 )

Lucie's ol d friend , Myria m Harry , remember s how , onc e Lucie ha d me t Germain e an d hear d he r sing , th e woma n became "he r onl y passion, he r onl y reason fo r living. " Harr y adds wryly, "W e hardl y sa w her an y more . No on e sa w her " (Harry 1946 : 124) . On th e qualit y o f Germaine' s voice , opinion s differ , bu t

i6

Introduction

there wa s suc h passionat e antagonis m t o Lucie' s ne w liaiso n that i t is hard t o believe any o f th e assessments o f her friend s and acquaintance s wer e anythin g approachin g objective . A Monsieur Imbert , writin g i n th e Journal des debats, state d more coolly , Madame Germain e d e Castro' s i s no t on e o f thos e voice s whic h astoun d the listene r b y thei r volume , thei r rang e o r th e singularit y o f thei r tone . What sh e ha s i s a pleasant, averag e organ , bu t wha t wit h consummat e ar t she wields it, with wha t technica l perfectio n sh e modulates it s sonority . (Imbert i n Journal des debats, 1 4 May 1930 , quoted i n Plat 1994 : 212 )

It seems , then , tha t Germaine' s voic e wa s superbl y traine d and imbue d wit h a passionate intensity . Many singer s nowa days who ar e idols o f th e public cannot boas t o f s o much . Lucie threw no t onl y her heart an d sou l into her new love, but als o al l he r tim e an d mos t o f he r money . Germaine' s career wa s ver y muc h o n th e wan e whe n Luci e me t her . Sh e had jus t bee n turne d dow n fo r a recordin g contrac t wit h Columbia, an d he r greates t clai m t o fam e wa s tha t sh e wa s Marian Anderson' s singin g teacher . I n orde r t o relaunc h Germaine i n th e publi c eye , Luci e organize d a serie s o f per formances a t prominen t musi c hall s i n Paris , offerin g t o accompany th e singe r herself , thereb y lendin g her ow n nam e to th e spectacle . He r friend s an d admirers , however , fel t most strongl y tha t th e vulgarit y o f th e musi c hal l scen e wa s beneath Lucie , fearin g a los s o f socia l statu s fo r he r i f sh e persisted. Th e Germaine-Luci e act , heralde d b y a melodra matic dru m roll , an d precede d b y clown s an d acrobat s dressed i n gaud y colors , was , i t seems , to o shockin g t o th e delicate upper-clas s Parisia n constitution . Harr y remark s upon Germaine' s entrance , " a bi g fa t woma n wit h a tragi c

Introduction

17

face dresse d al l i n black, " an d th e thi n patheti c figure o f Lucie b y he r side , muffle d u p i n shawl s wit h spectacle s o n her nose , ben t ove r th e musi c (Harr y 1946:125) . Eve n Lu cie's faithfu l servant , Berthe, 3 crie d he r wa y throug h th e performance. Natalie Cliffor d Barne y hersel f watche d th e ne w develop ments wit h anxiety . Cushione d b y th e fou r millio n dollar s provided b y he r father' s railroa d fortun e ( a su m whic h would b e wort h abou t on e billio n nowadays) , sh e wa s bot h used t o an d amuse d b y th e disapprova l an d disapprobatio n of th e small-minde d bourgeoisi e wh o professe d themselve s shocked b y her extravagant lesbianism , as though a t a breac h in th e goo d tabl e manner s whic h the y themselve s ha d onl y recently, and mos t painstakingly, learned . Lesbianism was a n upper-class privileg e an d Germain e d e Castr o wa s distinctl y vulgar. Barne y migh t b e a love r o f women , bu t sh e talke d like a lady . Germain e suffere d als o fro m th e twi n socia l faults o f corpulenc e a t a time whe n slimme r figures wer e th e fashion—Renee Vivien , th e lov e o f Barney' s lif e had , afte r all, die d o f anorexia—an d tha t o f bein g "n o longe r young. " Lucie salute d Germaine' s greate r maturit y i n he r novel , Une Femme mure et Vamour (Lov e an d th e matur e woman ) bu t what Luci e calls "mure " (ripe) , Barney calle d "obese. " I n her portrait o f Lucie , Barne y confide s tha t sh e trie d t o mak e he r friend chang e he r min d wit h regar d t o Germaine . Th e first performance o f Germaine' s tha t Luci e attende d wa s called , "La Chanso n a traver s le s ages " (Son g throug h th e ages) . Maliciously Natali e warne d Lucie , "Watc h ou t les t 'Son g Through th e Ages ' becom e 'Agin g throug h Song ' " (Barne y i960: 175) . Th e followin g year , whe n Luci e announce d he r

i8

Introduction

music-hall project , Natali e aske d spitefully , "Haven' t yo u taken a goo d loo k a t you r soprano? " pointin g ou t ho w fa t Germaine ha d grown . Lucie's ow n sister , Charlotte , wa s quit e use d t o Lucie' s passionate affair s wit h women . Lucie' s frien d an d neighbor , Chattie, had accompanie d he r o n many o f her speakin g tour s and Mis s Trott , Chattie' s successor , a n America n violi n teacher, ha d bee n welcome d everywher e Luci e went . Ye t Charlotte quarrele d wit h Luci e violentl y abou t Germain e d e Castro. "Catastrophe! " Luci e write s i n he r memoir s (309) . "My siste r greete d m e wit h a frightfu l jealou s fit , wit h th e most offensiv e word s fo r Germaine , the most shockin g innu endoes abou t m y tri p t o L e Havre , desperate , frightening , even vulgar." Luci e was force d t o choos e betwee n Germain e and he r friend s an d family . Sh e picke d Germain e an d neve r spoke t o Charlott e again . Man y year s later , afte r he r sister' s death whe n Luci e was i n her lat e sixties, she suggested t o he r brother-in-law tha t sh e mov e i n wit h hi m an d the y kee p house togethe r a s friend s an d companions . Th e brother-in law welcome d th e proposal , but , i n loyalt y t o hi s wife , lai d down th e conditio n tha t Luci e brea k of f al l contac t wit h Germaine an d no t eve n mentio n he r name . A condition that , naturally, sh e refused . Lucie was no t merel y i n love with a woman, again—fro m the age of six , after all , her mos t passionate relationship s ha d been wit h women—bu t wit h a Jewis h woman , wh o ha d a working-class "Parigot " accen t an d a decidedl y vulga r wa y with words . That a working-class accen t shoul d b e the caus e of seriou s socia l ostracis m ma y see m strang e i n th e Unite d States wher e th e dolla r standar d make s plai n a person' s so cial position. I n France, as in England, however , th e way on e

Introduction

i9

spoke (o r perhaps I should sa y "speaks " for i n my experienc e this i s stil l tru e today ) marke d on e mor e clearl y tha n th e designer labels—o r thei r lack—o n one' s clothes . Indeed, th e upper classe s o f Europ e ar e frequentl y mor e carelessl y dressed tha n th e middl e class , thei r insoucianc e a badg e o f class. Homosexuality ha s always been a tolerated aristocrati c idiosyncrasy, unles s insisten t attentio n i s calle d t o it . O f Delarue-Mardrus's mos t outspoke n critics , Natali e Barne y and Myriam Harry , th e former woul d b e the last to condem n Lucie for embarkin g upo n a lesbian affair , an d th e latter wa s herself Jewis h an d s o unlikel y t o disapprov e fo r reason s o f anti-Semitism. Luci e migh t lis t th e crudenes s o f Germaine' s speech amon g he r greates t attractions , bu t the n sh e wa s famous fo r he r finely tune d ea r an d he r abilit y t o repea t an d relish th e languag e o f others , fro m th e colorfu l dialec t o f th e Norman fishermen—reproduced i n Graine au vent (See d i n the wind ) an d UEx-voto, t o th e Arabi c cadence s o f th e North Africa n singer s sh e me t i n Algier s an d whic h sh e copied, almos t perfectly, i n her ow n singing . The adven t o f th e Secon d Worl d Wa r an d th e ris e o f anti-Semitism i n Franc e contribute d strongl y t o Delarue Mardrus's declin e i n popularity . A s th e thirtie s progressed , many prominen t hig h societ y figures an d friend s o f th e au thor woul d mak e strongl y anti-Semiti c statements , includin g Gabriele D'Annunzio , wh o gav e Mussolin i th e titl e o f 'i l duce' an d Natali e Barney , who , thoug h he r materna l grand father wa s Jewish , mad e Jewis h peopl e th e but t o f variou s aphorisms: "Wha t natio n wil l lov e th e Jew s s o muc h tha t they ma y sto p bein g Jewish? " (1910 : 66); " A straightene d Jewish nose : surgery , paraffi n o r mixe d ancestry? " (1920 : 129).

20

Introduction

In 1940 , Mauric e Goudeket , Colette' s husband , wa s ar rested an d sen t t o a cam p i n th e sout h o f France , t o awai t deportation t o Germany . Fortunatel y h e was freed, thank s t o the interventio n o f Colette' s influentia l friends , an d wa s hid den by a network o f neighbors an d shopkeeper s i n the PalaisRoyal distric t o f Pari s fo r th e res t o f th e war . Hi s arres t nevertheless ha d a chillin g effec t o n Colette' s friend s an d Delarue-Mardrus feare d fo r d e Castro' s life . Thoug h he r rheumatism wa s extremel y painfu l an d sh e longe d t o mov e south t o a warmer climate , a move tha t was suggeste d t o he r by he r sister , Suzanne , an d tha t migh t hav e bee n expedite d by th e goo d office s o f Marecha l Petain , he r youthfu l suitor , Delarue-Mardrus refuse d adamantl y t o leav e d e Castro . Th e couple, a s wel l a s d e Castro' s age d mothe r an d th e ma n d e Castro ha d marrie d t o hid e he r Jewis h identity , wer e the n living in a house i n Chateau-Gontie r i n Normandy . One morning , a s wa s inevitable , d e Castr o wa s calle d t o the Kommandantu r o f th e regio n an d returne d wit h a gol d star o n th e bac k o f he r coat . I n Autum n 1943 , afte r th e fal l of Stalingrad , anti-Semiti c persecutio n intensified . A frien d of th e d e Castr o househol d reporte d seein g a n ol d Jewis h teacher, wh o wa s paralyzed , bein g beate n wit h a clu b an d thrown int o th e bac k o f a truck . A ga y frien d o f Delarue Mardrus, th e ar t collector , Chartrere , wh o wa s alread y hid ing his Jewish lover , Serezine , offered t o let de Castro hid e in another propert y h e owne d i n a mor e remot e are a o f th e country. D e Castr o fled . Th e Gestap o cam e t o th e house , searched everything, interrogated th e inhabitants, and threat ened t o tak e Delarue-Mardru s awa y i f the y coul d no t find de Castro .

Introduction

21

After Fleurette wa s banne d b y th e Gestap o an d he r Poemes mignons wer e withdraw n fro m th e schoo l curricu lum, Delarue-Mardrus' s subsequen t poem s an d novel s wer e each rejecte d i n quic k succession . He r Souvenirs d'Orient was returne d t o her b y Plon a s "insufficientl y newsworth y t o interest th e public, " whic h migh t b e translate d a s meanin g that the y feare d a liberal , eve n sentimenta l vie w o f th e Nea r East migh t b e antipatheti c t o th e Naz i censor s a t th e tim e o f their Nort h Africa n campaign . Man y publishin g house s los t their mos t valuabl e editor s t o anti-Semitism . Other s wer e closed dow n an d thei r propert y seized . Discouraged , Luci e put he r rejecte d manuscript s away , baptizin g the m "Edition s Dutiroir" (Botto m Drawe r Press) . Eve n he r typis t turne d against he r an d returne d he r lates t novel , Etoile de David (Star o f David) , refusin g t o typ e i t "becaus e it' s to o disre spectful t o Go d th e Father" (Harr y 1946 : 202) . Lucie's rheu matism wa s b y no w s o painful i t was ou t o f th e questio n fo r her t o typ e her wor k herself . Worried abou t he r failin g healt h an d frightenin g lac k o f money, friend s i n Paris tried t o secur e a pension fo r her . Th e tide did finally begi n t o turn . Th e Societ e des Gens d e Lettre s provided he r wit h a n incom e an d sol d th e film right s t o he r novel Graine au vent; whil e Souvenirs d'Orient wa s bough t by a publishe r i n Lyons . Wherea s Delarue-Mardru s pub lished fou r title s in 1938 , three novels and a n autobiography , she published barel y on e boo k a year thereafter . Th e Secon d World Wa r marke d th e en d o f a n era ; afte r suc h a cataclys m nothing wa s t o remai n unchanged . A s sh e ha d remarke d i n Up to Date (1936) , "Franc e remaine d aristocrati c unde r three republics , an d i s no w lik e a grea t lad y o f th e mano r

22

Introduction

who marrie d a win e merchant " (Newman-Gordo n 1991 : n o , he r translation) . Lik e th e aristocrati c Franc e sh e cham pioned, Delarue-Mardru s di d no t surviv e the new alliance . Part Two: The Harlequinade The ambiguou s silhouett e o f a figure wit h tw o face s ca n b e see n prowlin g at variou s carnival s i n moder n dress . Th e rea l bourgeoisi e doe s no t fre quent thes e places , o r rathe r wha t i s lef t o f th e rea l bourgeoisi e i n a Pari s heading mor e an d mor e towar d a confusio n o f genders , a Pari s i n whic h the societ y o f th e pos t wa r year s i s topplin g th e divisiv e barrier s on e after another , leavin g onl y a n undifferentiated , multicolore d mob , whos e numbers ar e increase d b y th e surreptitiou s invasio n o f th e foreigner , add ing a n extr a intensit y t o th e color s o f thi s phreneti c harlequinade . The Angel and the Perverts, Intermezzo, 16 3

When i t first appeared i n Paris in 1930 , The Angel and the Perverts wa s see n a s little mor e tha n a roman a cle in whic h the ambiguou s two-face d silhouett e wh o prowl s it s wa y through a serie s o f moder n carnival s depict s Delarue Mardrus herself , th e angelic , asexua l outside r wh o observe s and report s o n th e immora l goings-o n o f Paris' s sexua l un derworld, th e mai n character s easil y identifiabl e a s friend s of her s o r famou s personalitie s o f th e time . No t onl y di d contemporary critic s conside r th e nove l a roman a cle, De larue-Mardrus hersel f admitte d i n he r memoir s "I n The Angel and the Perverts I analyze d an d describe d Natali e (Barney) a t lengt h a s well a s th e lif e int o whic h sh e initiate d me" (144) , addin g tha t sh e hersel f wa s no t t o abando n th e asexual rol e o f th e archange l unti l som e tim e later . Th e enraging, engaging , impassione d Laurett e Well s i s unques tionably th e American write r an d salo n hostess , Natalie Clif ford Barne y (wh o also appear s a s Flossie in Liane de Pougy' s

Introduction

23

Idylle sapphique [Sapphi c idyll ] [1901 ] an d Colette' s Claudine s'en va [Claudin e an d Annie ] [1903] ; a s Evangelin e Musset i n Djun a Barnes' s Ladies Almanack [1928] ; an d a s Valerie Seymou r i n Radclyff e Hall' s The Well of Loneliness [1928]); th e unfortunat e Aime e d e Lagre s i s a portrai t (o f sorts) o f th e Englis h lesbia n poet , Rene e Vivien , on e o f Bar ney's mos t importan t lovers , thoug h Barne y was , i n he r un derstated way , highl y offende d b y the portrait. "Rene e preg nant! Onl y Luci e coul d hav e imagine d suc h a thing . I n reality, Luci e wa s jealou s o f Renee " (Chalo n 1976 : 210) . The Countes s d e Talliar d is , of course , th e Barones s Helen e von Zuylen d e Nyevelt, known a s "l a brioche " fo r he r corpu lent figure an d roun d topkno t o f hair . (I t was , incidentally , brioche no t cak e tha t Mari e Antoinett e suggeste d th e peas ants ea t upo n bein g tol d tha t the y ha d n o bread. ) Other , les s central character s ar e harder t o place. The long-suffering bu t enamored Ceci l Hampto n mus t b e Barney' s ever-aspiring , ever-rejected beau , Manners-Sutton . Th e gay , opium-ad dicted, pajama-wearing Julie n Midalg e is , perhaps, Jean Lor rain, journalis t an d novelis t o f th e Bell e Epoque , rea l name , Paul Alexandr e Marti n Duval . O r mayb e it' s th e dramatis t Jean Cocteau , thoug h h e wa s no t par t o f Lucie' s socia l se t and sh e doe s no t mentio n hi m i n he r memoirs . Bu t wh o i s the Hanoum Iffe t Effendi , th e Turkish Princes s who suddenl y appears i n Natalie's , sorr y Laurette's , ca r a s i t head s fo r th e Sarthe? Coul d sh e b e Rene e Vivien' s ol d flame , Kerime , th e Turkish princess ? An d who , then , i s Charlie , th e reckles s American flappe r wit h he r cigars , he r almos t shave n head , her masculin e clothes , and he r mos t unmanl y terro r o f bulls ? These questions , wit h thei r insistenc e o n th e autobio graphical interes t o f th e novel , t o th e exclusio n o f it s styl e

24

Introduction

and literary merit , act as a covert condemnation fo r th e crime of frivolity . I n thes e seriou s day s post mortem auctoris 4 thi s is tantamount t o damnin g th e novel itsel f a s not wort h read ing. Bernar d Grasset , th e publishe r o f a ne w biograph y o f Lucie Delarue-Mardru s b y Helen e Plat , publicize d th e boo k by putting a scarlet band aroun d i t announcing, "Sara h Bern hardt. Marce l Schwob . Gide . Octav e Mirbeau . Jarry . Co lette. Anna d e Noailles. Natalie Barney . Maeterlinck . Rodin . Valery. Isador a Duncan . Heredia . Feli x Feneon. " An d that' s it. Jus t a lis t o f name s o f 1920 s luminaries . Clearl y wha t interests th e publishe r abou t Delarue-Mardru s wa s wh o sh e knew. Thi s vauntin g o f th e author' s socia l positio n an d it s corresponding neglec t o f he r craf t an d skil l i s not unlik e th e instruction Gabriell e Reva l suggeste d Delarue-Mardru s giv e her manage r i n 1924 . Befor e embarkin g upo n a lectur e tou r of th e Unite d States , sh e shoul d whispe r i n hi s ear , "Don' t tell th e American s tha t I a m a famou s woma n i n m y ow n country, bu t tha t o f al l women poet s I have mos t ofte n bee n photographed" (Reva l 1924 : 55) . Luci e Delarue-Mardru s was beautiful an d sh e was well-connected, bu t these qualitie s alone cannot explai n th e success of he r fiction. The Angel and the Perverts i s no t merel y a roman a cle but a nove l o f socia l turbulence , reflectin g a tim e whe n for tunes ha d bee n los t an d found , socia l boundarie s wer e be coming mor e fluid , an d gende r role s wer e les s restricting . Mario/Marion, th e hermaphrodit e hero/ine , i s two-faced no t only becaus e o f his/he r ambiguou s genitali a (gentl y allude d to rathe r tha n explicitl y define d i n th e text) , bu t als o du e t o an ambiguous economi c an d socia l position. The family's fal l from economi c grac e i s describe d i n fa r greate r detai l tha n the anatom y o f th e son/daughte r an d heir/ess . The chil d o f a

Introduction

2*5

ruined aristocra t an d a parvenue coa l heiress, a French Cath olic an d a n Englis h Protestant , late r force d t o mak e a livin g as a lega l secretar y an d hac k write r (i n femal e an d mal e guises respectively) , Mario n benefite d from , an d i n his/he r own perso n represented , no t onl y th e "sexua l confusion " of th e time s bu t als o th e socia l confusio n whic h Delarue Mardrus liken s t o a "phreneti c harlequinade. " Whil e sh e addressed th e topi c o f homosexualit y explicitl y i n onl y thre e of he r books , th e them e o f bourgeoi s versu s aristocrati c val ues ma y b e see n throughou t he r work . I n UAme aux trots visages (1929) , fo r example , th e ne w wealt h an d ostentatio n of th e mother , daughte r o f ric h mil l owners , i s continuall y contrasted wit h th e perfec t tast e an d gentee l povert y o f th e father's mother . Hortensia degeneree (Withere d hydrangea ) tells th e stor y o f Coun t Ernoul t d e Beauvaisne s an d th e choice h e mus t mak e betwee n th e daughte r o f a ruine d French noblema n an d a n America n heiress . Afte r a brie f affair wit h th e former , h e marrie s th e latter . B y th e en d o f the stor y bot h th e ruine d noblewoma n an d th e Coun t hav e drowned themselve s i n a pond wher e th e Coun t ha d plucke d a hydrange a an d le t i t withe r lik e th e fortune s o f th e nobl e house. Delarue-Mardrus wa s bor n a t th e beginnin g o f th e Bell e Epoque, a tim e o f grea t socia l upheava l i n Pari s wit h th e humiliating defeat o f th e Franco-Prussian Wa r (1870—1871) , the ravage s o f th e civi l uprisin g i n th e Pari s Commun e (1871), th e Sieg e of Pari s (1877) , the vast urba n landscapin g of Baro n Haussman n wit h it s consequent uprootin g o f man y neighborhoods, th e Dreyfu s Affai r o f th e 1890s , an d th e cataclysm o f th e Firs t Worl d War . Th e dynasti c power s o f the ol d guar d aristocrac y ha d bee n swep t awa y wit h th e

26

Introduction

disappearance o f th e ancien regime durin g th e Frenc h Revo lution o f th e previou s century ; no w i t wa s th e haute bourgeoisie tha t foun d itself , an d it s entrenche d status , unde r attack. Althoug h th e daughte r o f a shippin g lawyer , wh o had rente d rathe r tha n inherite d th e famil y home , an d thu s bourgeois herself , Delarue-Mardrus , wit h a n upwar d identi fication typica l o f he r class , though t o f hersel f a s part o f th e nobility sh e mixed with . I n this sh e resembled th e arc h snob , Marcel Proust ; the y share d a tast e i n title d aristocracy , fo r both wer e clos e friends o f Elisabet h d e Gramont, Duches s o f Clermont-Tonnerre an d Rober t d e Montesquiou , o n who m Proust's Charlu s wa s based . Whe n sh e pit s th e virtuous , understated aristocrac y agains t the vulgarity o f the bourgeoi sie, i t i s th e ne w distinctio n betwee n haute an d lowe r bour geoisie that i s really a t issue. Describing his/he r sta y a t his/he r uncl e an d aunt' s house , Marion explain s tha t i t was the horrors s/h e sa w perpetrate d in th e nam e o f bourgeoi s conventio n tha t gav e him/he r a taste fo r socia l outlaws . Indeed , i n one telling passage i n The Angel and the Perverts, Delarue-Mardru s make s plai n he r championing, throug h Marion , o f th e nobl e purit y o f homo sexual lifestyle s i n contras t wit h th e base , mercenar y natur e of bourgeoi s mores . At Laurette o r Midalge' s hous e one talks art , music, even love with respec t and ceremony . Beaut y an d mone y ar e neve r discusse d i n th e sam e sen tence. Fo r dirt y pervert s the y ar e decidedl y clean-minded . (Chapte r Five , ii5)

This is in stark contras t with th e heterosexual journalis t wh o "like a travelin g salesma n o n a spree " make s i t hi s busines s to fondl e th e leg s an d arm s o f a group o f actresse s sittin g o n

Introduction

27

a sof a an d imagine s th e salo n o f th e famou s lesbia n Laurett e Wells to b e a house o f il l repute . It i s Marion' s decidedl y bourgeoi s aun t an d uncl e wh o have thei r "nephew " examine d b y a docto r an d hi s civi l status changed t o that o f a girl, whereas his parents preferre d to kee p hi m i n discree t ignoranc e o f hi s physical peculiarity . Bourgeois, then , i s thi s ne w nee d fo r legal/medica l labels , where th e aristocrac y o f ol d preferre d t o understan d a t hal f a wor d an d remai n silent . I t wa s it s homogeneou s privileg e to condon e idiosyncrasy , whil e th e mor e heterogeneou s bourgeoisie require d quantificatio n i n th e absenc e o f tradi tional, ancestra l standards . Th e predominanc e o f quantifica tion t o establis h qualit y i s a commo n phenomeno n i n newl y diverse societie s wher e th e ol d accepte d code s ar e unusable , since onl y a smal l numbe r o f peopl e ar e familia r wit h them . It woul d seem , then , tha t th e ultimatel y countable , an d ac countable, mone y standard , otherwis e know n a s a capitalis t economy, i s necessar y t o an y multicultural , sexuall y divers e community. Until the processes of acclimatization, accultura tion, an d assimilatio n erod e th e difference s onc e more , an d obsessive countin g give s wa y t o th e mystificatio n an d cere moniousness belove d o f thos e nostalgi c fo r th e aristocrati c order, a qualit y Delarue-Mardru s share d wit h Proust , wh o would, fo r example , giv e his address b y describing hi s neigh borhood, hi s house, the illuminations, "I t is the only windo w on th e Boulevar d Haussman n i n whic h ther e i s stil l a ligh t burning!" (Benjami n 1968 : 207) , anythin g bu t th e stree t number, whic h woul d defin e i t a s par t o f th e bourgeoi s quantification system . The seve n volume s (bu t who' s counting?) 5 o f Proust' s A la recherche Au temps perdu mak e a cul t o f thi s nostalgia ,

28

Introduction

whereas The Angel and the Perverts, publishe d i n 193 0 (eight year s afte r Proust' s death ) ostensibl y describe s th e period i n which i t was written: Pari s of th e twenties. Thoug h the materia l details—Laurette' s car , Midalge' s pajama s (popularized b y Gilber t an d Sullivan' s Mikado), Charlie' s flapper haircut—ar e al l perfec t 1920 s artifacts , th e sensibil ity, th e socia l web , har k bac k t o a n earlie r time , th e earl y 1900s, the years of Delarue-Mardrus' s infatuatio n wit h Nat alie Cliffor d Barney . Pla t subtitle d he r biograph y o f th e au thor "Un e Femm e d e lettre s de s annee s folles " ( A woman o f letters o f th e Annees Folles —or th e 1920s) bu t Delarue Mardrus's writin g i s more characteristi c o f th e Belle Epoque, which represente d th e taste s an d passion s o f he r youth . Th e difference betwee n th e tw o period s ma y b e summe d u p i n the contras t betwee n th e juxtapositio n o f th e elegan t an d the extraordinar y typica l o f art nouveau, an d th e insisten t geometries o f art deco. Delarue-Mardrus' s preoccupatio n was not wit h for m bu t wit h capturin g a moment . Laurette's hous e i n Neuill y wit h it s abundan t par k i s clearly base d o n Barney' s hous e i n Neuilly , fro m whic h sh e and Delarue-Mardru s woul d issu e forth o n horseback, ridin g along th e bank s o f th e Sein e t o th e amusemen t o f th e loca l lads wh o mistoo k Delarue-Mardrus , i n he r masculine-look ing jodhpurs, for a young man. "He' s a s pretty a s a woman!" they woul d yel l i n derisio n (Harr y 1946 : 31) . Ye t b y th e 1920s Barne y ha d bee n livin g i n th e ru e Jaco b o n th e lef t bank fo r mor e tha n a decade . Th e contras t betwee n th e moderate comfor t o f Mis s Hervin' s apartmen t i n th e 16t h arrondissement, o n th e righ t bank , an d th e dra b seedines s o f Marion d e Valdeclare's thre e room s o n th e lef t ban k would , by th e 1920s , n o longe r hav e bee n s o stark . Whil e th e lef t

Introduction

29

bank ha d alway s bee n th e haun t o f artists , writers , an d actors, by the twenties it had becom e much mor e fashionabl e to frequen t suc h a milieu . Rene e Vivien' s affai r wit h th e Baroness Va n Zuyle n d e Nyeveld t date d fro m 1901 , an d Laurette relate s man y episode s i n he r attemp t t o regai n Aimee—the serenad e unde r he r window , th e flower s a t he r door—which Barne y ha d performe d i n he r missio n t o ge t Renee back . Bot h th e Countes s Talliard' s servants : butler , footman, maid , an d thos e o f Laurett e Wells : chambermaid , manservant, driver , ar e mor e reminiscen t o f th e grea t house s women o f thei r clas s maintaine d earlie r i n th e century . Th e language o f th e novel , too , i s slightly old-fashioned . Thoug h Marion call s Laurett e "u n chi c type" ( a brick, a good chap) , an expressio n whic h wa s al l th e rag e i n th e twenties , th e servants an d littl e Pierre' s peasan t foster-mothe r stil l addres s Laurette in the third person . "S i mademoiselle veut monter? " (if Mademoisell e want s t o g o upstairs? ) suggest s th e butler , as Mario n i s show n int o Laurette' s hous e i n Neuilly . "Ce s dames vont entre r che z nous" (thes e ladies are going to com e in), say s th e wet-nurse , usherin g Laurett e an d Mario n int o her cottage . Althoug h no t anachronistic , thes e stylisti c trait s mark th e nove l a s somewha t old-fashioned , th e milie u a s aristocratic rathe r tha n bourgeois , jus t a s Marion' s Louis Seize an d Directoir e furnitur e denot e old-fashione d goo d taste rathe r tha n modernity . Though moder n criticis m conceptualize s th e Pari s o f th e 1920s a s th e tim e o f Ma n Ray , th e surrealists , an d th e late r Cubists wit h thei r intens e interes t i n form, individua l expres sion, an d th e solipsis m o f th e psyche , these movement s wer e part o f th e avant-gard e rathe r tha n th e mainsta y o f cultura l production. Thoug h the y hav e com e to symboliz e the period ,

3o

Introduction

they n o mor e represen t i t tha n th e Beatnik s represen t America i n th e fifties an d earl y sixties , a tim e whe n larg e numbers o f American s wer e a t hom e imbibin g th e conserva tive famil y value s o f Beave r Cleaver. 6 Th e ne w artisti c cur rents ar e referre d t o i n The Angel and the Perverts, bu t always wit h a n amuse d condescensio n a s o f somethin g infra dig,7 Simon e Luvedier , Julie n Midalge' s frien d wh o under goes a n epiphani c conversio n t o Catholicis m an d dismay s Marion, th e purist , b y he r vulga r ostentation , i s a dadais t poet—the dadais t movemen t bein g a precurso r o f surreal ism. The brillian t youn g medica l studen t wh o examine s littl e Pierre, breaks int o th e poems o f Valery an d Mallarm e o n th e drive bac k t o Paris ; whil e Laurett e an d Mario n g o upstair s to powde r thei r noses , he strikes u p Debussy' s Arabesque o n Laurette's piano . Laurette' s acerbi c comment , "H e doesn' t play badly , tha t youn g man . Bu t to o naivel y infatuate d wit h modernism. I fea r h e ma y b e a n indifferen t snob " (Chapte r Fifteen, 212) , seem s t o conve y th e author' s ow n opinio n o f the modernis t endeavor . Th e descriptio n o f Marion' s physi cal make-u p owe s mor e t o th e androgynou s Salome s o f th e nineteenth-century symbolis t painte r Gustav e Morea u tha n to Picasso' s decontextualize d wome n compose d o f straigh t lines and acut e triangulations. Though th e American expatri ate painter Romain e Brooks , long-term love r o f Natali e Bar ney, i s know n fo r he r almos t monochrom e portrait s o f thin , pale wome n wit h elongate d bodies , he r inspiratio n wa s ex plicitly symbolis t rathe r tha n modernist . The scen e i n whic h th e docto r examine s Mario n an d pro nounces hi m a gir l i s interestin g i n wha t i t reveal s o f th e medical/legal discours e o n sexua l anomal y o f th e time ,

Introduction

3i

or rathe r wha t element s o f tha t discours e hav e reache d the popula r understanding , for , a s wil l b e elaborate d later , Delarue-Mardrus alway s worke d o n issue s whic h ha d cap tured th e popula r imagination . Th e docto r decide s that , de spite wha t wa s writte n o n Marion' s birt h certificate , i t i s better t o classif y him/he r amon g th e female sex . He does not , therefore, declar e tha t Mario n i s a woman , bu t see s th e problem a s on e o f classification : o f th e various , contradic tory gende r attribute s Marion' s bod y displays , d o the y clus ter mor e aroun d th e male or th e female en d o f th e spectrum ? The doctor' s ton e i s scientific , whic h Mario n finds "wors e than al l th e jeer s o f m y classmates " becaus e i t i s unanswer able an d ye t expects , enforces , compliance. 8 Th e ne w bour geois knowledg e i s no t t o b e disputed ; ther e i s n o appea l against science . Throughout th e text Marion protest s agains t the terribl e curs e tha t ha s se t hi m apar t fro m hi s fello w man, se t he r apar t fro m he r fello w woman . Becaus e her/hi s physical peculiarit y i s unique , neve r previousl y encountered , there i s no nam e fo r i t and thu s i t cannot b e spoken of . A s s/ he wander s throug h Paris , a lonel y outsider , "alon e o f his / her kind, " s/h e i s unable t o d o mor e tha n watc h an d witnes s the carniva l o f life , withou t joinin g i n th e revelry . Ye t th e doctor, upo n examinin g his/he r body , recognize s th e prob lem immediately an d i s able to mak e comparisons wit h othe r cases of th e sam e nature . Unfortunate individual s lik e yourself ar e sometime s luck y enoug h t o gro w a beard , yo u understand . Bu t your s wil l neve r gro w an d tha t will , i n th e end, excite suspicion. S o it is best to mak e up your min d while there is still time. You ar e only ninetee n year s old, you ar e not yet known i n the world . Cases lik e your s ar e no t unhear d o f i n th e lega l domain . I t will b e eas y t o

32

Introduction

have your statu s rectifie d a t the next meetin g of th e medica l board . (Chap ter Four, ioo )

Not onl y i s Marion' s cas e no t unique , ther e appea r t o b e gradations o f symptoms : Som e patient s ar e abl e t o gro w beards, other s not . Th e docto r ca n tel l wher e o n th e spec trum Mario n stand s sinc e her/hi s bear d wil l neve r grow. 9 A t this point , havin g outline d th e relevan t physica l informatio n (Marion's chroni c beardlessness) , an d takin g int o consider ation th e appropriat e detail s o f socia l statu s (Mario n i s young an d unknown) , th e docto r seem s to hand th e proble m back t o Marion, "i t is best to make up your min d while ther e is still time." Apparently Mario n i s to be accorded th e powe r to decid e wha t sexua l identificatio n bes t suit s him/her— a radical attitud e t o gende r identit y tha t eve n th e hyper-indi vidualist 1990 s woul d b e har d pu t t o equal . But , a s i t turn s out, thi s i s a strateg y t o gai n Marion' s ideologica l obedienc e to a decision tha t i s to b e passed o n t o anothe r authority : th e law. Th e Frenc h ver b "s e decider " (t o mak e u p one' s mind ) can als o conve y th e connotatio n o f "t o pu t a brave fac e on, " "to se t onesel f t o doin g wha t on e ha s t o d o anyway, " an d i t is in thi s ambiguit y o f agenc y tha t th e finesse o f th e doctor' s speech rests. This difference i n ideology, an d th e institutiona l apparatus backin g u p th e ideology , represents th e distinctio n between th e ol d aristocrati c (haut bourgeois) orde r an d th e now entrenche d bourgeoisie . Wher e th e ol d orde r rule d b y inherited right , th e bourgeoisi e need s t o gai n th e consen t o f its constituents , a muc h respecte d par t o f th e democrati c process. Consen t require s informatio n an d thu s a t leas t th e appearance o f freedo m an d equality—tw o othe r touchstone s of democracy . An d i t i s th e democratizatio n o f Franc e tha t Delarue-Mardrus bot h abhor s i n her novel s an d profit s fro m

Introduction

33

in he r privat e life , fo r i t allowe d he r t o divorc e he r husban d and liv e wit h th e wome n sh e love d o n th e proceed s o f he r writing. The docto r take s Mario n throug h th e necessar y stage s o f entry int o th e bourgeoi s order : information , consent , lega l approval, an d referra l t o th e prope r authoritie s compose d of pre-establishe d experts . Th e appea l t o lega l discours e i s interesting, confirmin g a s i t doe s th e two-pronge d assaul t o f medical an d lega l authority , i n oppositio n t o th e powe r o f church doctrine , s o prominen t unde r th e ol d order , an d s o influential o n Marion' s desolat e childhood . Face d wit h thei r pupil's aberran t intellectua l nature , th e conclusio n o f th e religious authorities , a s represente d b y Marion' s processio n of abbes, i s th e cr y o f dismay , "H e wil l becom e a Benedic tine." Th e churc h provide s a plac e fo r misfits , an d thoug h both th e abbes an d Marion' s parent s star t u p a coercin g chorus of "t o th e Seminary!" s/h e is able to leave that institu tion possessed o f th e degrees and qualification s tha t will late r enable him/he r t o liv e a n independen t lif e i n Paris' s sexua l underworld. Th e Jesuit s d o no t thro w him/he r out , despit e his/her physica l peculiarity , no r d o the y believ e i t withi n their remi t t o alte r his/he r status . They merel y infor m his/he r uncle—though o f what , exactly , th e reade r i s not told . Not onl y are cases such as Marion's familia r t o the doctor , but the y ar e know n i n lega l circles , too . Thi s informatio n i s meant t o b e comforting . A t las t Mario n ha s foun d someon e to who m s/h e i s not unique , ye t th e medico-lega l knowledg e causes th e chang e o f civi l status, which s/h e think s o f a s "th e ultimate offense. " Th e abbes o f her/hi s childhoo d wer e no t allowed t o se e his/her body , o r expres s a n opinio n a s t o her / his sexua l status . The y merel y categoriz e Marion' s worryin g

34

Introduction

intellectual prowes s a s "Benedictine. " Wha t i s missin g fro m the scen e o f th e doctor' s examinatio n i s an y appea l t o th e new psychoanalytica l knowledge . Freu d had , afte r all , pub lished hi s Beyond the Pleasure Principle i n 1921 , an d th e case of Dor a date s from 1905 . The reason fo r thi s is twofold . First, a s discusse d above , althoug h publishe d i n 193 0 whe n Delarue-Mardrus wa s fifty-six, th e nove l continuall y hark s back t o th e Bell e Epoque o f th e author' s youth , a time whe n the ne w scienc e o f psycholog y wa s onl y i n it s infancy . Sec ondly, the autho r i s at pains to avoi d a psychological readin g of Marion' s tormen t b y relatin g i t continuall y t o his/he r physical condition . The moder n critic s Paulin e Newman-Gordo n an d Helen e Plat, identifyin g Mario n closel y wit h Delarue-Mardru s her self, se e him/he r a s a n androgynous-lookin g woma n wh o cannot decid e betwee n th e sexes . Newman-Gordon , i n he r brief biograph y o f Delarue-Mardrus , consider s th e write r to hav e bee n ahea d o f he r tim e i n he r depictio n o f sexua l marginality. Althoug h th e subjec t o f hermaphrodite s ha s been a long-live d them e i n Frenc h literatur e fro m Rabelai s onward, i n The Angel and the Perverts, Newman-Gordo n notes, "a n entir e milie u come s alive " (199 1 : 115) . What i s interesting about thi s assessment is the interpretation i t gives, although no t explicitly , o f th e meanin g o f Marion' s her maphroditism. Delarue-Mardru s doe s not , afte r all , describ e a milie u o f hermaphrodite s bu t o f lesbian s an d ga y men. Th e physical fact s o f hermaphroditism—th e possessio n o f bot h male and femal e primar y sexua l organs—ar e see n as a meta phor fo r a bisexua l libido . Indeed , Newman-Gordo n call s the hero/in e o f The Angel and the Perverts "th e bisexua l Marion," referrin g t o him/he r continuall y a s "she. " Ye t

Introduction

35

Delarue-Mardrus i s at pains to make clear, in her charmingl y guarded, neo-Victoria n way , tha t fo r Mario n anatom y i s destiny, condemning him/he r t o a life outside of human sexu ality, rather tha n facilitatin g th e enjoymen t o f bot h mal e an d female lov e objects . Fo r Plat , Mario n i s a n "androgynou s angel," no t a hermaphrodite, an d thu s bear s a close physica l similarity t o Delarue-Mardru s herself , who , wit h he r tal l stature, sli m hips , an d smal l bust , wa s frequentl y describe d as androgynous. The sculptor, Rodin , for example , was eager to sculp t he r bod y wit h it s "Appollonia n leg s lik e thos e of a hermaphrodite " (Harr y 1946 : 34) . Neithe r Newman Gordon no r Pla t come s t o grip s wit h th e actua l descriptio n of Mario n i n th e novel ; bot h critic s ignor e th e importan t difference betwee n androgyn y an d hermaphroditism . I n modern parlance , the forme r i s a popular an d flatterin g ter m to describ e th e physical appearanc e o f an , almos t invariably , young adul t who , i f female , i s tall , slim-hipped , an d flat chested, and , i f male, beardless an d delicat e o f limb , wherea s the latte r i s a worryin g medica l diagnosi s o f anatomi c an d possibly (dependin g on th e level of scientifi c knowledge ) hor monal intersexuality . Th e first, base d onl y o n appearance , i s a fashio n judgment ; th e second , base d o n th e biologica l fact s of th e body , i s a n exper t condemnation . Delarue-Mardru s obstinately set s Marion' s proble m a s a n anatomical , no t a psychological one : bor n wit h th e genita l organ s o f bot h sexes, bu t wit h n o reproductiv e capacity , s/h e i s unabl e t o have sexua l feeling s fo r eithe r sex . Hers/hi s i s a natura l ca lamity, whic h mus t b e endure d patientl y sinc e i t canno t b e cured. Ther e i s somethin g o f th e modern , conservativ e ap peal t o a "ga y gene " a s th e origi n o f homosexualit y here ; a palliative offere d t o th e religiou s right : w e ar e al l par t o f

36

Introduction

God's mysteriou s plan , o r a t leas t par t o f nature . N o desire , no fre e agenc y i s t o so w chao s i n th e smoothl y dualisti c sexual realm . As Newman-Gordo n rightl y observed , th e them e o f her maphroditism ha s constantl y recurre d i n Frenc h literature . Before th e moder n medicalizatio n o f th e body , however , i t was eithe r considere d a curs e o f heaven , o r use d a s a meta phor fo r wholenes s o r omniscience . Mos t author s wer e fa miliar wit h th e classica l account s o f hermaphroditis m i n Plato's Symposium an d Ovid' s Metamorphoses. I n th e Symposium, Aristophane s describe s the original human a s a dou ble being with tw o male , two female , o r a male an d a femal e part. Thi s bein g wa s late r sundere d b y th e god s an d con demned t o spen d th e res t o f it s lif e lookin g fo r it s othe r half. Ovi d tell s th e stor y o f Salmacis , th e wate r nymp h wh o embraces th e haples s Hermaphroditus , s o name d becaus e h e resembled bot h hi s father , Hermes , an d hi s mother , Aphro dite. Hermaphroditu s woul d no t giv e i n t o Salmacis' s charms, bu t sh e refuse d t o le t g o o f him , an d s o thei r tw o bodies wer e merge d fo r al l eternity. Instea d o f th e perfectio n of th e whole, however, Hermaphroditu s ha s bee n unmanne d by th e merger . I n th e sixteent h century , Rabelai s playe d o n the ide a o f th e hermaphrodit e a s a mor e complet e perso n and describe s a medallio n o n whic h ha s bee n struc k th e image o f a two heade d figure , bu t upo n close r inspection i t is clear tha t th e tw o head s fac e eac h other , wherea s i n th e classical hermaphrodit e the y woul d b e lookin g i n opposit e directions. A little Renaissanc e jok e fo r a copulating, hetero sexual couple, or "two-humpe d beast. " Thu s the hermaphro dite ma y represen t eithe r heterosexua l sex o r homosexua l desire.

Introduction

37

In 1978 , Miche l Foucaul t publishe d th e memoir s o f Her culine Barbin, a French hermaphrodit e whos e account of her / his lif e wa s discovere d besid e her/hi s dea d bod y a t his / her deat h i n 1868 . Herculine's lif e was, in some ways, the reverse o f Marion's , an d whil e i t i s improbabl e tha t Delarue Mardrus ha d rea d th e memoir s themselves , she will certainl y have see n th e account s o f hermaphrodite s writte n b y earl y twentieth-century sexologist s like Magnus Hirschfield , whic h were popula r i n Pari s i n th e twenties . Wher e Mario n gre w up as a boy and attende d th e all-male Jesuit seminary, Hercu line gre w u p a s a gir l an d inhabite d th e all-femal e world s o f a girls ' orphanage, a convent, an d a girls' school. Herculine' s civil status wa s change d t o tha t o f a man i n earl y adulthood , while Marion' s wa s change d t o tha t o f a woma n a t abou t the sam e age . Herculine' s autobiograph y alternate s betwee n the us e o f masculin e an d feminin e pronoun s an d concor d i n ways tha t ar e simila r t o th e gende r alternatio n i n The Angel and the Perverts. Bot h Herculin e an d Mario n spen d thei r childhoods i n environment s protecte d b y religiou s authori ties, onl y t o hav e thei r secre t despoile d b y th e medico-lega l institution an d th e cours e o f thei r live s irrecoverably altered . For each , sexua l an d genita l anomal y ar e closely linked . The hermaphrodite a s metaphor fo r a perfect bein g was a n important them e i n th e wor k o f tw o contemporarie s o f De larue-Mardrus an d ma y have served a s further inspiration . I n The Amazon and the Page (1988:99—106 ) Karl a Ja y trace s the theme of the hermaphrodite in the writings of Natalie Barney an d Rene e Vivien , fro m th e portrai t o f Sa n Giovann i i n Vivien's A Woman Appeared to Me (1904b) , wh o i s sexles s and immortal , t o A.D . i n Barney' s The One Who Is Legion, or A.D/s Afterlife, publishe d i n 1930 , th e sam e yea r a s The

38

Introduction

Angel and the Perverts, Wher e Mario n i s possesse d o f bot h genders, A.D . i s genderless , thoug h thes e description s ma y have bee n strongl y influence d b y th e limitation s an d exigen cies of th e languages i n which eac h text was written. For, un like almost al l her othe r work, Barne y wrote A.D. i n English , which, i n th e first person , require s n o gende r marking , whil e The Angel and the Perverts wa s written in French, where gender markin g i s obligatory. Lik e Marion , A.D . is asexual an d therefore fre e t o ente r int o th e imaginatio n an d emotiona l lives of others without the fetters o f sexual urges. Though Delarue-Mardru s provide s n o forewor d o r intro duction t o the novel itself, some of her ideas about homosex uality an d hermaphroditis m ca n b e see n i n "Fable , Verite " (Fable, truth), the first sectio n o f Les Amours d'Oscar Wilde, which serve s a s a prelud e t o he r accoun t o f Wilde' s life . Delarue-Mardrus begin s b y summarizin g Aristophanes ' speech fro m th e Symposium. I t read s lik e a classi c introduc tion t o th e them e o f th e inver t wh o i s homosexua l becaus e originally derive d fro m a male-male , o r female-female , cou ple an d wh o wil l inevitabl y b e unhapp y i f no t permitte d t o seek a mate of the same sex. However, Plato' s hermaphrodit e is onl y th e first o f a galler y o f strang e creature s presente d in thi s section . Whic h ar e "fable, " whic h "truth, " i s neve r clarified. Th e secon d vignett e describe s th e frien d o f a well known actres s (wh o tol d Delarue-Mardru s th e stor y herself , so i t mus t b e true) . H e wa s a Russia n diploma t wh o wa s married bu t ha d "particula r tastes " (i.e. , h e wa s gay) . On e day, Delarue-Mardru s recounts , th e diploma t wa s knocke d over b y a ca r an d neede d a n operation . Upo n openin g hi s abdomen, th e surgeo n wa s astonishe d t o discove r a complet e set of femal e sex organs , revealing th e ma n t o b e a hermaph -

Introduction

39

rodite. Th e thir d sectio n introduce s u s t o variou s monsters , such a s th e Norma n peasan t woma n wh o give s birt h t o a child wit h a calf' s head , havin g bee n chase d b y a wil d bul l when pregnant . Delarue-Mardru s inform s u s sagel y tha t th e man i s no t th e onl y facto r i n procreation ; stron g fear , a yearning for particula r foodstuffs , an d even repetitive dream s and obsessiv e thought s i n th e mothe r ma y affec t th e baby . Why, Osca r Wilde' s ow n mothe r stubbornl y believe d throughout he r pregnanc y tha t sh e woul d hav e a daughter . When th e bab y turne d ou t t o b e a boy , sh e dresse d hi m a s a girl an d le t hi s hai r grow , an d loo k ho w h e turne d out . Homosexuality is , i t seems , onl y on e o f nature' s manifesta tions, somewher e betwee n th e pederast , th e calf-heade d child, th e dog-man , th e bearde d lady , an d th e hermaphro dite. The portraya l o f Mario n i n The Angel and the Perverts often echoe s theme s foun d i n th e classica l storie s o f her maphrodites, though th e word "hermaphrodite " i s used onl y once in the whole novel . If Marion' s mothe r accomplishe d a tour de force i n help ing Marion throug h childhoo d an d adolescenc e without any one knowing, not eve n him/herself, wha t a n unusual creatur e s/he was , Delarue-Mardru s ha s accomplishe d anothe r i n he r revelation/nonrevelation o f Marion' s physica l peculiarity . On th e first pag e th e reade r i s tol d tha t Marion' s mothe r must hav e bee n expectin g twin s whe n sh e was carryin g him , for Mario n ha s a strang e secon d self . Thus fro m th e first w e know ther e i s som e myster y surroundin g Marion , an d ou r curiosity i s stoke d a s t o wha t th e myster y migh t be . A t first we shar e thi s curiosit y wit h th e youn g boy , wh o become s our mouthpiec e i n the text. " I can' t ver y well send you t o th e Jesuits," announce s hi s father, t o which Mario n responds , a s

4Q

Introduction

we do, "Why? " We share his frustration a t the nonrevelatio n "Because." A t th e beginnin g o f Chapte r Two , however , w e are o n ou r own . Wh o i s thi s "she " wh o suddenl y appear s in th e novel , occupyin g Marion' s place ? I t i s onl y b y th e characteristics sh e shares with Marion—th e multi-hue d blu e eyes, the hoars e voic e an d breakin g laugh—tha t w e begi n t o recognize her . Whe n Janin e mock s Marion' s antiemotiona l stance, "Wha t a pity ! A beautifu l youn g lad y lik e you! " Marion replie s "Wh o sai d I wa s a youn g lady? " No w i t i s her tur n t o tantaliz e th e reader , a s wel l a s th e textua l ad dressee. Ther e ar e thre e possibl e interpretation s fo r thi s re mark, eac h o f whic h give s i t a differen t slant , base d o n age , class, an d gende r respectively . Th e firs t interpretatio n i s tha t Marion i s older tha n sh e seems an d i s therefore assertin g he r maturity: no t a young gir l bu t a n alread y establishe d lad y i n her thirties . Th e secon d i s tha t Mario n i s no t a youn g lad y but a woman , a n importan t clas s distinction . Sinc e sh e i s obliged to earn he r ow n livin g and canno t affor d eve n a maid but ha s he r concierg e coo k he r meals , this interpretatio n ha s some validity. The third possibilit y is , of course, that Mario n is a man , whic h Delarue-Mardru s i s carefu l neve r t o stat e explicitly. Instea d Mario n i s describe d a s thoug h sh e wer e performing a rol e i n a play . Thus , i n Chapte r Three , th e description "fill e d e trente ans " (gir l of thirty ) i s appended t o Marion's nam e withou t a connecting verb , as though i t wer e an adjectiv e describin g th e Mario n o f th e moment . I n th e next clause , "ell e redevin t l'epheb e eterne l qu'ell e etait " (sh e became agai n th e eterna l yout h sh e was) . A t a superficia l reading this suggests the autho r i s finally divulgin g that Mar ion wa s reall y a boy . Ye t th e pronou n elle (she ) militate s against thi s reading , ha d Mario n bee n purel y an d simpl y a

Introduction

4i

boy, th e pronou n il (he ) woul d hav e bee n used : "h e becam e again th e eterna l yout h h e reall y was. " Instea d a contradic tion remain s betwee n th e gende r o f th e pronou n an d tha t o f the noun , reflectin g th e eterna l contradictio n o f Marion' s state. Throughout th e tex t th e reade r i s tantalize d wit h a n al most unveilin g o f Marion' s body . I n Chapte r Four , i n whic h all i s explained , th e reade r learn s o f "th e nameles s horrors " of Marion' s childhood , th e "unpreceden t drama " o f his/he r birth, an d th e "masterpiec e o f deception " o f his/he r birt h registration. Whe n h e send s him/he r t o th e seminary , Mar ion's father , w e ar e told , coul d easil y imagin e th e method s his/her companion s use d t o sho w him/he r wha t a phenome non s/h e was ; th e directo r o f th e seminar y "notifies " Mar ion's aun t an d uncle—o f what , th e reade r i s not told . Later , to distrac t Laurett e fro m he r misery , Mario n contemplate s telling he r his/he r "rea l story. " Ye t n o explici t wor d i s given to th e reader . Instea d a doubl e descriptio n i s provided , on e which skillfull y manipulate s th e gende r resource s o f th e French language . Mario n i s bot h "seul " an d "seule"—th e masculine an d feminin e spelling s o f th e adjectiv e "alone" ; s / he contemplate s a futur e a s eithe r a "benedictin " o r "bene dictine" (mal e o r femal e Benedictine) ; his/he r imaginatio n i s both "mal e et femelle" (mal e and female) . The leather-boun d books tha t lin e the wall s o f Marion' s bedroo m ar e describe d as th e pipe s o f a churc h orga n (Chapte r Twelve , 181) , a metaphor tha t reinforce s th e monkis h imag e o f Marion' s religious retreat , ye t th e Frenc h ter m "le s orgues " is , a s far a s gende r i s concerned , on e o f th e mos t intriguin g an d ambiguous i n th e Frenc h language . I n th e singula r th e wor d is masculine , whil e i n th e plura l i t become s feminine . Whe n

4*

Introduction

referring t o a church organ , althoug h th e referent i s singular , the term become s grammatically plural , requiring plural con cord. A complicate d piec e o f artillery , compose d o f man y muskets, or, later , rockets, is also called "un e grand e orgue, " thus th e book s ar e par t o f Marion' s artiller y i n his/he r per sonal gende r battle . The contex t i n whic h th e revelator y ter m "hermaphro dite" occur s i s telling . "I t amuse s m e t o watc h wome n i n Paris who behav e like men and me n who behav e like women. To me there is no more ridiculous sight than a false hermaph rodite," Mario n declare s wit h exasperation , upo n bein g asked wh y s/h e socialize s wit h ga y me n an d lesbian s (Chap ter Three , 89) . A woma n wh o behave s lik e a man , then , i s one wh o i s sexuall y attracte d t o women , makin g heterosex ual attractio n th e definin g facto r o f masculinit y an d feminin ity. A n attractio n t o a perso n o f th e sam e sex a s onesel f i s the propert y o f th e hermaphrodit e who , whateve r her/hi s sexual orientation , wil l alway s hav e on e se t o f genital s i n common wit h th e objec t o f his/he r affections . Thu s homo sexuality is only authenti c when biologicall y based . Yet Mar ion, ou r authenti c hermaphrodite , repeatedl y declare s her / himself incapabl e o f sexua l attractio n precisel y becaus e o f his/her dua l nature . " I lov e n o on e an d nothing " i s his/he r catchword. S/h e criticize s herself/himself fo r rebellin g agains t Laurette's impropriet y wit h th e reflectio n "Wha t wa s I t o reproach other s fo r thei r sexua l fantasies , I wh o ha d n o sex?" (Chapte r Nine , 148) . The inauthenticit y o f homosexua l behavio r i s underline d by th e us e o f th e Frenc h ver b "faire, " whos e basi c meanin g is "t o do " o r "t o make. " Mario n i s amused b y "de s femme s qui fon t le s homme s e t de s homme s qu i fon t le s femmes "

Introduction

43

(women wh o do—make , perform , ac t like—me n an d me n who do—make , perform , ac t like—women) . Masculinit y and femininit y ar e thu s see n a s activ e performance s rathe r than passiv e states. 10 Whe n Laurett e i s flirting wit h Marion , the hermaphrodit e responds , "It' s amusin g whe n yo u pla y the lady' s man . Especiall y wit h me . It' s funny " (Chapte r Two, 80) . Again , i t i s th e ver b "faire " tha t i s use d t o con vey th e sens e o f "playing " a lady' s man . Masculinit y i s a n act, a role . W e hea r late r tha t Charlie , fo r al l he r mannis h breeches, he r authoritativ e swagger , an d he r shor t hair , i s afraid o f cows . Laurette informs th e assembled compan y tha t when wome n dres s (s e deguisent ) lik e me n the y alway s tur n out t o b e sissies . "I n ever y regard, " sh e adds , i n cas e th e sexual nuanc e ha d slippe d anyone' s attentio n (Chapte r Ten , 171).

If homosexualit y i s a n inauthenti c performanc e o f cros s gender roles , th e tex t offer s n o prettie r image s o f heterosex ual me n an d women . Authenticit y i s no t necessaril y eithe r natural o r captivating . Marion' s aun t an d uncl e ar e th e epit ome of bourgeoi s conventionalit y wit h thei r ostentatiou s fur s and jewelry , whic h Mario n ceremoniousl y despoil s t o revea l the emptines s beneath . Instea d i t i s th e pervert , Laurette , who suggest s a route t o Marion' s salvation , a social functio n that wil l provid e he r wit h a stable , monosexua l identity . I n humorous exasperation , Laurett e exclaims , "Th e searc h fo r paternity i s a fine thing ! A mos t unexpecte d . . . an d mos t vexing method o f playing the man!" (C'es t bea u la recherch e de la paternite ! Une fa^o n bie n inattendu e . . . et bie n embe tante de faire l'homme ) (Chapte r Fourteen , 203) . Once more, the Frenc h ver b "faire " suggest s th e activ e proces s o f con structing a gender identity . Mario n wil l adop t th e unwante d

44

Introduction

child, becom e a mother , an d consequentl y a woman . I n th e child's eyes , Mario n wil l exis t onl y a s hi s mother , an d this , Marion muse s happily , "wil l giv e me a se x a t last " (Chapte r Fifteen, 215) . Th e possibilit y o f becomin g a Benedictine , held ou t t o Mario n sinc e childhood , stil l entail s a certai n ambiguity, fo r Mario n migh t b e eithe r a mon k o r a nun . Instead o f th e contemplativ e lif e o f th e cloister , sh e choose s the secula r servic e o f motherhood , bu t eithe r choic e woul d entail a vo w o f celibacy , fo r th e materna l rol e replace s th e sexual role . Marion constantl y describe s her/himsel f a s a bein g alone , doomed t o solitud e fo r eternity , a n observe r wh o ca n neve r participate, bu t who , paradoxically , know s lif e fro m al l angles. I n thi s s/h e i s th e epitom e o f th e Bell e Epoqu e "fla neur," o r stroller , who walk s the boulevards o f Haussmann' s new Paris , a s well a s the les s frequented alley s of th e capital , commenting o n th e scene s s/h e witnesse s bu t o f whic h s/h e i s not part . Thu s whil e Mario n migh t b e a creatur e apar t i n this novel , i f on e take s a quic k intertextua l glanc e a t th e novels and poems that preceded it s publication, it is apparen t that s/h e wa s accompanie d i n her/hi s nocturna l wandering s by a ghostly horde o f nineteenth-century literar y figures fro m Baudelaire an d d e Nerval' s dispossessed , o r otherwis e dis gruntled, youn g men—th e forme r splenetic , th e latte r mo rose—to Lautreamont' s demoni c Maldoror . Thoug h Mar ion complaine d o f bein g steril e (a n eg g wit h a clea r yolk) , her/his literar y antecedent s an d successor s ar e legion . A t his/ her darkes t hour , wanderin g aimlessl y alon g the banks o f th e Seine i n th e pourin g rain , Marion' s despairin g bleat , "M y heart was sucke d b y the leeches of despair " (Mo n coeu r etai t suce pa r l a ventous e d u desespoir ) (Chapte r Nine , 143) , i s

Introduction

45

pure Baudelaire , on e o f th e mos t popula r Frenc h poet s o f al l time. On e i s never alon e when quotin g Baudelaire . Though Pla t foun d th e depictio n o f homosexualit y i n The Angel rathe r risqu e fo r th e period , an d Newman-Gordo n sees Delarue-Mardru s a s ahea d o f he r tim e i n he r depictio n of sexua l marginality , th e lat e twentie s an d earl y thirtie s witnessed a veritabl e blossomin g o f novel s o n th e subject . Indeed th e publicatio n o f The Angel cam e ho t upo n tha t o f Radclyffe Hall' s The Well of Loneliness (1928) , Virgini a Woolf's Orlando (1928) , an d Delarue-Mardrus' s ow n biog raphy, Oscar Wilde's Love Affairs (1929) . The way had bee n paved b y th e succes s o f th e lesbia n work s o f th e 1880 s and earl y 1900s . Rachilde' s La Marquise de Sade ha d bee n published i n 1887 , he r Madame Adonis i n 1888 , followe d by Monsieur Venus i n 1902 . Idylle sapphique, b y Lian e d e Pougy, whic h recount s th e affai r betwee n th e author , a Pari sian courtesan , an d th e seventeen-year-ol d Natali e Barney , was published i n 1901 ; Barney's Cinq Petits Dialogues grecs, inspired b y he r readin g o f Sappho' s poetry , appeare d i n 1902. Rene e Vivien' s Une Femme mapparut, a romanti c fictionalization o f he r relationshi p wit h Barney , cam e ou t i n 1904, a s wel l a s La Dame a la louve, a collectio n o f shor t stories, which include s a lesbian retellin g of th e tale of Princ e Charming. Luci e Delarue-Mardru s kne w eac h o f thes e au thors personall y (wit h th e probabl e exceptio n o f Virgini a Woolf), fo r Radclyff e Hall , Rachilde , an d Lian e d e Pougy al l frequented Barney' s literar y salon . Liane d e Poug y remark s tha t i n Idylle sapphique, he r ac count o f th e consequence s o f th e vic e (o f lesbianism ) i s quit e damning an d explain s " I wante d t o expres s mysel f particu larly severel y o n tha t point . Thi s wa s actuall y quit e im -

46

Introduction

portant i n order t o find a publisher willin g to publish a boo k on th e subjec t a t th e tim e whe n m y nove l appeared, " sh e recalls (Poug y 1977 : 280) . An d ye t th e nove l describe s th e central lesbia n relationshi p a s a haven fro m th e brutality an d greed o f men . Th e mal e customer s o f th e Parisia n courtesan , Annhine d e Lys , ar e describe d a s "ver y ric h an d ver y ordi nary" (Poug y 1979 : 92) . The y bar k unpleasantl y aggressiv e orders lik e "Tak e you r clothe s off! " (123) , "Nake d . . . Completely naked! " (ibid. : 124) , whil e th e adorin g youn g Flossie, o n th e othe r hand , smile s sweetly , murmurin g ro mantically, "Le t u s unit e ou r lips " t o whic h Annhin e re sponds, " I fee l different . Yo u le t m e glimps e s o man y thing s I neve r kne w existed " (78) . As it s titl e suggests , th e nove l i s an "idyll, " despit e th e lacin g o f critica l commentary . I n con trast t o th e opinion s o f Pla t an d Newman-Gordo n outline d above, I would sugges t tha t i n he r rathe r guarde d depictio n of th e lesbia n an d ga y socia l milieu x o f Paris , far fro m bein g risque, Delarue-Mardru s wa s perhap s mor e conservativ e than necessary . Colett e ha d alread y gotte n awa y wit h sensu ous description s o f sex betwee n wome n i n he r Claudin e series, especiall y i n Claudine en menage (Claudin e married ) (though thes e were, admittedly, organize d fo r th e delectatio n of th e mal e gaze) , wherea s Delarue-Mardru s permit s th e reader onl y a voyeuristi c frisso n a t th e though t tha t i f Mar ion's physica l stat e wer e known , on e lifetim e woul d no t suffice t o cultivate al l his/her perversity, before th e possibilit y is closed off , Mario n define d a s "onl y a brain" an d the whol e idea dismisse d i n Marion' s "horro r o f physica l coupling " (Chapter Four , 98) . According t o Plat , Marion's ambiguou s sexualit y i s due t o Delarue-Mardrus's ow n desir e t o compet e wit h Colette' s

Introduction

47

more sexuall y provocativ e style , bu t th e homosexua l milie u is not on e in which sh e feels comfortable , an d s o the attemp t falls fla t (Pla t 1994 : 204) . Newman-Gordon reinforce s Plat' s opinion, statin g tha t Delarue-Mardru s i s describin g " a wa y of lif e whic h fo r a shor t tim e sh e ha d adopted " (Newman Gordon 1991 : 115) . Bu t th e homosexua l haunt s o f Pari s were as familiar t o Delarue-Mardrus a s they were to Colette . If Colette' s affai r wit h "Missy, " Mathild e d e Morny , als o known a s th e Marquis e d e Belboeuf , daughte r o f th e Duk e of Morny , wa s well-known , s o to o wa s tha t o f Delarue Mardrus an d Natali e Barney. Delarue-Mardrus neve r remar ried afte r he r divorc e fro m Joseph-Charles , bu t fo r th e res t of he r lif e enjoye d a serie s o f long-ter m affair s wit h women , whereas Colett e marrie d thre e time s an d eac h tim e wit h passion—quite a testamen t t o th e appea l o f heterosexuality . One o f th e character s Colett e describe s i n Le Pur et Vimpur (first publishe d a s Ces Plaisirs [Thes e pleasures] ) i s Rene e Vivien, a n ol d frien d an d admire r o f Delarue-Mardrus . The Angel and the Perverts, wit h it s frequent movemen t betwee n the lesbia n literar y salon , th e ga y soire e an d th e theatrica l "bearpit," show s som e fleetin g resemblanc e t o Colette' s Ces Plaisirs. Bu t th e forme r i s a novel , th e latte r presente d a s a nonfiction repor t an d i t wa s no t publishe d unti l 1932 , tw o years afte r Delarue-Mardrus' s novel . No r wa s th e them e o f homosexuality entirel y ne w t o Delarue-Mardrus ; sh e ha d addressed th e topic the previous year in Les Amours d'Oscar Wilde (1929) , a s wel l a s i n Sapho desesperee (Sapph o i n despair) (a n unpublishe d vers e play , circ a 1917 , performe d at th e Theatr e Femin a unde r th e ironi c reversa l "Phao n vic torious"). Delarue-Mardru s wa s a persona l frien d o f Lor d Alfred Douglas , Wilde' s lover , an d i t wa s he r friendshi p fo r

48

Introduction

Douglas tha t inspire d he r t o writ e th e biography . Despit e these well-known autobiographica l details , Delarue-Mardru s has ofte n bee n cas t a s a n outside r t o lesbia n an d ga y life styles, both b y the critic s of th e da y an d b y those of ou r ow n time. Eve n Barne y reinforce s thi s imag e i n he r portrai t o f Delarue-Mardrus (Barne y i960 : 147-186) , insistin g a s sh e does o n describin g Luci e an d he r husband , th e infamou s Joseph-Charles, a s thoug h he r husban d ha d bee n th e mos t important perso n i n Lucie' s life . It i s tru e tha t Delarue-Mardru s fel t a stron g rivalr y wit h Colette, t o who m sh e wa s frequentl y compared . Indeed , he Petit Parisien wa s t o rejec t on e o f he r novels , suggestin g sh e write mor e "i n Colette' s style " (Pla t 1994 : 249) . Delarue Mardrus wa s i n th e habi t o f writin g t o Colett e afte r a ne w book cam e ou t t o correc t he r gramma r an d commen t o n he r style. "You'r e joll y prou d o f yourself , now , havin g manage d to squeez e th e wor d 'anatiferous ' int o you r lates t boo k t o astound u s all . Well , I' m ver y sorr y t o hav e t o infor m you , but on e shoul d sa y 'invective r contre ' (t o rai l against ) an d 'tacher a ' (t o tr y to) " (Pla t 199 4 : 276). Colette , apparently , took Lucie' s chidin g i n goo d part . Afte r he r friend' s death , she wa s t o mis s he r littl e homilies . " I wis h sh e wer e stil l amongst us , busy scoldin g me . I thought o f he r when I wrote the wor d 'photade. ' Sh e would hav e reproache d m e fo r i t i n her childis h voice " (Pla t 1994 : 277) . It was a sore point wit h Lucie, too , tha t Colette , th e Burgundian , wh o ha d scarcel y ever lef t he r nativ e Franc e an d spok e onl y French , wa s in vited t o christe n La Normandie, th e larges t ferr y boa t i n th e world, a s representative o f Le Journal, whil e Lucie , who ha d written fo r thi s paper fo r years , came from Normandy , spok e fluent English , an d ha d travele d widely , got passed ove r (Pla t

Introduction

49

1994 ' • 2.24). Perhaps th e ke y t o Colette' s increasin g succes s as th e centur y advanced , a s wel l a s t o Delarue-Mardrus' s decrease i n popularity , ma y b e see n i n Lian e d e Pougy' s assessment o f Colette . I n he r memoirs , My Blue Notebooks, de Poug y expresse s a ster n disapprova l o f Colette' s novels , writing o f Cberi tha t "ever y detai l reveal s it s vulgarity. " Though sh e professes admiratio n fo r Rene e Vivien , Ann a d e Noailles, an d Luci e Delarue-Mardrus , amon g othe r wome n writers o f th e period , sh e criticize s Colett e fo r appealin g t o the reader' s laten t sensuality , ticklin g thei r sex , shakin g u p their kidneys , an d goin g t o thei r head s (Poug y 1977 : 124 — 125). I t seem s tha t wher e Colett e kep t apac e with , an d wa s even influentia l i n forming , publi c taste , Delarue-Mardrus' s old-fashioned reserv e hel d he r back . Anothe r o f he r editor s begged Delarue-Mardru s t o giv e hi m " a societ y tea, " advis ing her to stop harping on abou t fairies , skeletons, mermaids, and archangels , taste s o f a bygon e ag e reminiscen t o f Edga r Allan Poe, Baudelaire, and th e children's book s o f the Bibliotheque rose. I t was , i n part , Colette' s ver y "vulgarity " tha t kept he r i n th e publi c ey e a t a tim e whe n th e ol d definition s of who , exactly , tha t publi c include d wer e bein g burs t apart . The launc h o f th e Normandie represente d no t onl y Colette' s success, bu t als o th e massiv e increas e i n adul t leisur e tim e that ha d contribute d t o it . Though sh e was somewha t eclipse d b y Colette's succes s i n later years , a t th e heigh t o f he r caree r Delarue-Mardru s wa s contributing t o al l th e majo r paper s i n Pari s an d publishin g not on e bu t severa l novel s a year. Sh e considered hersel f first and foremos t a poet , bu t sh e wa s als o on e o f th e mos t highly pai d wome n fiction writer s o f he r day . I n 1914 , at th e beginning o f th e Firs t Worl d War , sh e too k a pos t a s a

5°

Introduction

nursing auxiliar y i n th e hospita l i n Honfleu r a s par t o f th e war effort , jus t a s Radclyff e Hal l wa s drivin g ambulance s i n Paris. Hearing tha t th e hospita l desperatel y neede d a n X-ra y machine, she bought on e fro m th e money sh e earned fo r on e article i n th e Journal. Sinc e X-ra y machine s cos t a consid erable sum , the n a s now , thi s fac t alon e bear s witnes s t o Delarue-Mardrus's spectacula r popularity . Her earl y succes s a s a novelis t was , i n part , du e t o he r extraordinarily acut e ea r fo r wha t woul d appea l t o th e con temporary imagination . Mos t o f he r novels were serialized i n Parisian journal s befor e bein g publishe d a s complet e books , and the y enjoye d som e o f th e element s o f th e cliff-hanger : dramatic event s tha t woul d no t b e resolve d unti l th e nex t chapter, sudde n change s o f character , place , an d poin t o f view. A s th e stor y unfolde d wee k b y week th e nove l charac ters wer e imbue d wit h somethin g o f th e immediac y o f rea l life personalities . With Joseph-Charles , Luci e travele d widel y i n Nort h Af rica an d th e Middl e East , fo r a perio d o f abou t seve n years , sometimes bein g awa y fo r a s muc h a s a yea r a t a time . Th e editor o f th e Journal, Catull e Mendes , suggeste d sh e writ e articles o n he r travels , whic h wer e the n illustrate d wit h dar ing picture s o f th e youn g woma n o n camelback , i n fron t o f the Sphin x i n Egypt , o r ridin g astrid e Arabia n horse s i n the Sahara . Wher e Gide' s adventure s i n Nort h Afric a wer e shocking, adul t reading , Luci e Delarue-Mardru s introduce d French reader s t o th e more respectabl e exoticis m o f th e mar ried couple . Lef t b y he r husban d i n a Turkis h hare m whil e he wen t of f o n othe r business , Luci e woul d repor t o n th e pretty customs , th e silks , th e silve r dishes , an d th e orienta l singing of the women. These accounts were so successful tha t

Introduction

5i

she wa s soo n aske d fo r a nove l an d i t wa s i n thi s wa y tha t her writin g career ha d begun . As a professional writer , livin g entirely o n th e proceed s o f he r novel s an d lectur e tours , Delarue-Mardrus wa s oblige d t o kee p a n ey e on th e enthusi asms o f he r fello w citizens . Thu s i n 191 6 sh e publishe d th e novel Un Roman civil en 1914 ( A civilia n nove l i n 1914) , which, i n a fervo r o f patriotism , tell s th e stor y o f a youn g soldier an d hi s sweethear t a t th e beginnin g o f th e Firs t World War . Early i n th e century , linguistics , wit h it s rigorou s analysi s of language , began t o mak e itsel f fel t i n the form o f romanc e dialectology. Wit h th e first report s o f Gillieron' s dialec t dic tionary o f France , a project tha t was carried ou t fro m 1903 — 1909, th e preservatio n an d recordin g o f th e minorit y lan guages and dialect s of France came to be seen as a fascinatin g and worthwhil e endeavor . Thi s awakenin g interes t ca n b e seen i n tw o o f Delarue-Mardrus' s mos t successfu l novels , UEx-voto (mad e int o a film entitle d Diable au coeur) an d Graine au vent (o f whic h a film adaptatio n appeare d i n 1943, directe d b y Mauric e Gleize) , i n whic h th e dialec t o f the Norma n peasant s an d fishermen ar e depicte d i n a serie s of dramati c episodes . Observing the success of her husband' s translation o f th e Thousand and One Nights, a s wel l a s th e popularity o f he r ow n article s abou t he r travel s throug h Algeria, Egypt , th e Lebanon , Saud i Arabia , th e Crimea , an d Turkey, Lucie promptly polishe d of f severa l novels with mid dle-eastern themes , including UAmanit an d El Arab. Her first novel , Marie, fille-mere, tellin g th e sa d stor y o f an unwe d mother , appeare d ever y Frida y i n th e Journal Many bourgeoi s reader s professe d themselve s scandalize d and stoppe d thei r subscriptions , whil e man y other s bega n t o

5*

Introduction

buy th e paper i n order t o rea d abou t Mari e Avenel, raped b y le fils Budi n whil e stil l onl y a n innocen t youn g girl , givin g birth t o he r son , Alexandre , force d t o leav e he r villag e i n Normandy becaus e o f th e socia l stigma . I t wa s a shockin g and timel y novel , reflectin g an d questionin g th e positio n o f women i n th e earl y 1900s . For Mari e i s " a creatur e defense less agains t th e physiologica l fatalit y whic h hold s wome n down" (1908 : 356) . Sh e dies , a s sh e ha s lived , a victi m o f masculine desire , fo r he r youn g so n i s killed b y he r husban d in a fit o f jealou s rag e an d poo r Mari e Avenel' s hear t give s out. Luci e is explicit abou t th e caus e o f Marie' s misfortunes . "A ma n ha d committe d th e crim e o f forcin g a chil d upo n her, anothe r ma n ha d committe d th e crim e o f killin g tha t child. Marie' s whol e lif e wa s encompasse d b y th e tw o acts " (356). The novel was based , loosely, on th e misadventures o f Lucie's ow n maid , transporte d t o a countr y setting , wit h extra realis m adde d afte r a mont h spen t i n a labo r war d doing researc h i n th e guis e o f a medica l student . On e o f the wome n i n th e labo r ward , wh o wa s dyin g fro m th e complications o f a difficul t birth , recognize d Luci e an d tol d her sh e wa s a n avi d reade r o f Marie, fille-mere, an d th e continuing serie s was bein g pu t asid e fo r he r t o rea d a s soo n as sh e wa s better . Unfortunatel y sh e die d th e followin g day . Le Roman de six petites fdles (Delarue-Mardrus' s secon d novel) tell s th e stor y o f th e prett y youn g Englis h governess , Miss Olive , he r affai r wit h th e ma n o f th e house , an d he r subsequent disgrace . Thes e tales , a s wel l a s tha t o f Lucie' s reader, th e dyin g youn g mother , hav e muc h o f th e Victoria n melodrama wit h it s sentimenta l moralit y an d catharti c sens e of pathos . Ye t ther e i s als o a nascen t feminism , a protes t against th e "physiologica l fatality " tha t dog s women' s live s

Introduction

53

and punishe s the m s o severel y fo r sin s that ar e merely pecca dilloes when committe d b y men . Lucie Delarue-Mardru s ha d a somewha t conflicte d rela tionship wit h th e organize d feminis m o f he r day . Th e femi nist pape r La Fronde wa s launche d i n 1897 , an d daringl y announced itsel f o n th e fron t pag e a s " a dail y newspape r o f literature an d politic s directed , edited , managed , writte n an d composed b y women. " Starte d b y Marguerit e Durand , for merly o f th e Comedi e Franchise , an d edito r o f Figaro's liter ary supplement, i t was clearly Dreyfusard i n its politics. With a mixtur e o f naivet e an d audacity , an d knowin g nothin g whatever abou t th e radica l an d feminis t stanc e o f th e paper , Lucie brough t Marguerit e Duran d a n accoun t o f a readin g of Helene Vacaresco's poetry . I t was accepted fo r publicatio n and it s autho r wa s astonishe d an d embarrasse d t o receiv e thirty franc s fo r he r article , th e firs t mone y sh e ha d eve r earned. I t struc k he r a s somewha t dishonorabl e tha t a wor k of th e intellec t shoul d b e recompense d i n gol d coin . Invite d to atten d th e Fronde's first soiree , he r mai n concer n wa s what t o wear—sh e settle d o n a pal e blu e sati n numbe r be longing t o on e o f he r sister's , decorate d wit h lac e an d a plunging neckline—being ignoran t o f the type of people wh o would b e invited t o such a n event . She knew that th e Dreyfu s Affair wa s ragin g i n Paris , splittin g familie s an d dividin g salons, and that the men of her own famil y thundere d agains t "the traitor , Dreyfus, " bu t i t wa s no t unti l sh e hear d th e name o f Josep h Reinac h announce d (Dreyfus' s principl e de fender) tha t sh e realized sh e was i n a Dreyfusard stronghold . "Papa mus t neve r know! " sh e sai d t o hersel f (Delarue-Mar drus 1938 : 97) an d resolve d neve r t o retur n t o th e Fronde, "I a m antifeminist, " sh e declare d a t tha t time , an d he r

54

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innocence, o r naivete , wer e take n advantag e o f b y editor s and journalist s o f th e da y wh o wante d t o refut e th e feminis t cause. Thu s Henr i d e Jouvene l (late r t o becom e Colette' s second husband) , edito r o f he Matin, invite d he r t o writ e a frivolou s antifeminis t articl e entitle d "D u Chigno n a u £erveau" (Fro m th e topkno t t o th e brain) , fo r whic h sh e received man y angr y letter s fro m wome n reader s (Delarue Mardrus 1938 : 154) . Lian e d e Poug y describe s Delarue Mardrus a s "adorable , childlike . . . little suited to the practicalities o f life " (1977 : 280) , th e ver y portrai t o f feminin e dependency. Yet , d e Poug y add s approvingl y "sh e wa s able—fortunately—to fre e hersel f fro m he r husban d an d since that experienc e ha s neve r attempte d a second marriag e or th e conques t o f anothe r man " (280) . I t seem s tha t a s sh e lost th e protectio n o f he r father' s hous e an d he r husband' s status, an d wa s force d t o leav e he r nebulous , poeti c clou d and notic e wha t wen t o n aroun d her , Delarue-Mardru s be came more feminis t an d acquire d a healthy understandin g o f the value of working fo r one' s living . "Oh thi s war ! Basically , i t i s th e mal e wh o dream s i t u p and carrie s i t out . I f ther e wer e onl y wome n o n eart h non e of thi s would happen, " (Harr y 1946 : 159) , she stormed wit h uncharacteristic bitternes s i n a lette r t o he r frien d Myria m Harry durin g th e Secon d Worl d War . O r rather , i t wa s a comment uncharacteristi c o f th e young , wide-eye d Lucie , who placed her father's opinion s befor e he r own an d boaste d of knowin g nothin g abou t politics . I n a momen t o f despai r at the agonie s o f war , sh e raged , I retur n t o m y favorit e idea : castratin g al l me n a t birth . Keepin g onl y a few i n eac h region , carefull y traine d wit h th e sol e functio n o f reproduc tion. Th e castrat i woul d b e sufficien t t o ensur e th e wor k necessar y t o

Introduction

55

human lif e an d th e women woul d dea l wit h everythin g else . (Harr y 1946 : 159—160)

Strong stuf f fo r a declare d antifeminist , bu t lik e man y women o f he r clas s an d era , Delarue-Mardru s gre w mor e political with age , as youth an d beauty no longer brought he r the advantage s sh e had previousl y enjoye d withou t thinking . The Angel and the Perverts, althoug h no t specifically femi nist, nevertheless pose s a number o f question s regarding gen der identit y an d gende r roles . A s a man , Mario n ca n g o where h e likes , whe n h e likes . H e i s fre e t o tak e publi c transport i f h e wishes , strol l alon g th e bank s o f th e Sein e a t night without fea r o r escort . As a woman, on the other hand , she i s constantly pursue d b y mal e suitor s an d i s restricted t o the privat e real m o f taxi s an d domesti c interior s (despit e th e blurring o f gende r division s i n th e lesbia n an d ga y milieux) . Yet we ar e tol d tha t th e transformatio n fro m femal e t o mal e requires bu t a fe w gesture s an d ma y b e accomplishe d i n less than five minutes . Thi s distinctio n betwee n th e outwar d appearance, s o easil y donne d an d doffed , an d th e mor e lim ited socia l possibilitie s fo r eac h se x i s mos t clearl y capture d in Marion' s decisio n t o fix he r gende r identit y b y becomin g a mothe r rathe r tha n a monk . I n eithe r cas e th e institution , motherhood o r th e Catholi c church , desexualize s th e adher ent an d provide s a cloa k o f uniformit y s o that th e individua l is reduce d i n importance , an d institutiona l membershi p i s made mor e prominent. I t would hav e been relativel y eas y fo r Marion t o choos e eithe r o f th e tw o paths , ye t onc e th e decision i s made , he r whol e lif e wil l b e determine d b y th e role sh e must no w play . I n th e penultimat e scene , before sh e takes th e chil d an d become s a mother , w e se e he r cuttin g chunks of f he r forme r life , givin g up he r bachelo r flat , decid -

56

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ing neve r agai n t o visi t he r theatrica l friends . Sh e i s takin g the necessar y step s towar d enterin g th e institution , fo r i t i s the institution, no t he r anatomy , tha t wil l creat e her gender . ANNA LIVI A

Notes i. I n th e bac k o f thi s boo k reader s wil l find a comprehensiv e bibliogra phy o f Delarue-Mardrus' s works , includin g novels , poetry , trave l books, biographies , an d translations . Althoug h i t i s comprehensive , I cannot clai m tha t th e lis t i s exhaustive . I n he r seventy-one-yea r life span, Delarue-Mardru s wrot e ove r sevent y book s an d som e ma y wel l have falle n pre y t o th e errati c recor d keepin g o f a pre-compute r age . The first, a collectio n o f poetr y entitle d Occident, wa s publishe d i n 1901 whe n sh e wa s twenty-seven ; th e last , Nos Secrees amours, th e love poem s sh e wrot e fo r Natali e Cliffor d Barne y i n 1903 , Barne y had publishe d anonymousl y i n 1957 , twelv e year s afte r th e author' s death. I hav e compile d thi s bibliograph y o f Delarue-Mardrus ' wor k from thos e produce d b y Helen e Pla t i n he r Lucie Delarue-Mardrus: Une Femme de lettres des annees folles, b y Paulin e Newman-Gordo n in he r entr y o n Luci e Delarue-Mardru s i n th e "bio-bibliographica l sourcebook," French Women Writers; fro m th e dat a provide d b y th e Firstsearch bibliographica l database ; an d fro m informatio n give n i n Lucie Delarue-Mardrus' s ow n memoirs . Fo r th e publisher s I hav e given the names o f th e presses which issue d Delarue-Mardrus' s work s in boo k form ; reader s shoul d bea r i n mind , however , tha t th e vas t majority o f her fiction wa s first published i n serial form i n the journal s and magazine s o f th e day . (Thoug h thi s doe s no t appea r t o hav e bee n the cas e with The Angel and the Perverts.) To anyon e contemplatin g furthe r researc h o n Luci e Delarue Mardrus I would commen d Plat' s biograph y (ala s no t ye t translated ) for th e painstakin g wor k sh e ha s don e i n trackin g dow n Lucie' s friends, distan t relatives , forme r neighbors , an d eve n childre n o f neighbors, t o produc e a lively , entertainin g accoun t whic h concen trates particularl y o n Lucie' s socia l lif e an d celebrit y acquaintances . Newman-Gordon's thirteen-pag e account , o n th e othe r hand , focuse s

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57

on Lucie' s literar y work s i n a mor e academi c presentation . Newman Gordon ha s explore d th e majo r theme s o f Delarue-Mardrus' s fiction and provide s a n admirabl e sectio n o n th e contemporar y receptio n o f her work . Fo r th e schola r mor e intereste d i n "eye-witness " accounts , Delarue-Mardrus's ow n memoir s wil l b e essentia l readin g though , again, th e boo k ha s no t bee n translated . Sh e provide s a wealt h o f information o n th e genesi s an d publicatio n o f he r variou s novel s an d poetry collections , a s wel l a s anecdote s an d vignette s o f th e peopl e she knew . Myria m Harry' s Mon amie, Lucie Delarue-Mardrus de scribes i n warm , persona l detai l he r friendshi p wit h th e author , add ing a valuabl e pictur e o f th e tim e Delarue-Mardru s spen t i n Nort h Africa, sinc e Harr y an d he r husban d kne w th e sam e peopl e an d traveled i n th e sam e circles . Barney' s portrai t concentrate s o n Luci e and Joseph-Charle s Mardru s a s a couple . Th e bop k fro m whic h thi s account come s i s entitle d Souvenirs indiscrets (Indiscree t memories ) and i t i s therefor e no t surprising , perhaps , tha t Barne y i s particularl y interested i n tellin g th e worl d abou t th e mor e salaciou s aspect s o f he r relationship wit h Monsieu r an d Madam e Mardrus . Sh e tends t o wan der fro m th e poin t i n a rathe r disconcertin g way , however , an d ofte n recounts anecdote s fro m he r ow n life , whic h appea r t o hav e n o con nection t o tha t o f eithe r Luci e o r Joseph-Charles . Sh e als o ha s th e bad habi t o f quotin g whol e page s a t a tim e fro m Lucie' s memoirs , occasioning muc h repetitio n betwee n th e two accounts . 2. Her e i s the poem i n its entirety . L'odeur de mon pays etait dans une pomme. Je Pai mordue, avec les yeux fermes du somme, Pour me croire debout dans un herbage vert, L'herbe haute sentait le soleil et la mer. L'ombre des peupliers y allongeait des raies Et j'entendais le bruit des oiseaux, plein les haies, Se meler au retour des vagues de midi. Je venais de hocher le pommier arrondi Et je m'inquietais d'avoir laiss e ouverte Derriere moi la porte au toit de chaume mou . . . Combien de fois aussi Pautomne rousse et verte Me vit-elle, au milieu du soleil, et debout, Manger, les yeux fermes la pomme rebondie De tes pres, copieuse et forte Normandie? . . . Ah! je ne me guerirai jamais de mon pays! N'est-il pas la douceur des feuillages cueillis

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Introduction Dans leur fraicheur, l a paix et toute Pinnoncence? Et qui done a jamais gueri de son enfance? (fro m Ferveur)

3. I t wa s th e custo m o f th e da y t o refe r t o servant s b y thei r first name s only. I regret tha t I do no t kno w Berthe' s las t name . Reader s should , however, no t confus e he r wit h Berth e Cleyrergue , wh o wa s Natali e Barney's housekeeper fo r mor e tha n fifty years. 4. "Afte r th e death o f th e author." Th e idea ha s become such a hypnoti c linchpin o f contemporar y criticis m tha t i t seem s t o be g fo r latinat e recognition. 5. Eve n th e blesse d simplicit y o f countin g ma y no t insur e homogeneou s results. Ther e ar e seve n title d volume s i n Proust' s A la recherche du temps perdu, but , becaus e eac h i s ver y long , publisher s ofte n furthe r subdivide them . Thu s a ful l se t ofte n reache s a s man y a s fifteen separate books . 6. I ow e thi s analog y t o Veronic a O'Donova n wit h who m I ha d a n animated discussio n abou t th e hig h an d popula r culture s o f Pari s i n the Belle Epoque an d th e annees folles. 7. Infra dig., abbreviatio n fo r infra dignitatem o r "beneat h one' s dignity." 8. Tak e a s rea d a referenc e t o Miche l Foucault' s La Volonte de savoir and th e importanc e o f bot h confessio n an d medica l examinatio n t o the bourgeois order . 9. Accordin g t o recen t figures, th e incidence of som e degree of hermaph roditism ma y b e a s hig h a s 4 percen t o f al l newborn s (Epstei n 1990 : 100 an d not e 6) . I n assignin g gende r t o a n intersexe d infan t doctor s pay mor e attentio n t o the size of th e penis than t o any other criterion , hormonal o r anatomical . Suzann e Kessle r quotes , fo r example , fro m interviews sh e conducte d wit h si x medica l expert s i n intersexuality , "The formulatio n 'goo d peni s equal s male ; absenc e o f goo d peni s equals female ' i s treated i n th e literatur e an d b y th e physician s inter viewed a s a n objectiv e criterion , operativ e i n al l cases " Kessle r 1990 : 20. Elsewher e sh e observes , "Mone y state s th e fundamenta l rul e fo r gender assignment : 'Neve r assig n a bab y t o b e reare d . . . a s a bo y unless th e phalli c structur e . . . i s neonatall y o f a t leas t th e sam e caliber a s that o f same-age d male s with small-averag e penises' " (ibid : 18). I n th e euphemisti c languag e o f The Angel and the Perverts, Marion's lac k o f a beard symbolize s the lack o f a n adequat e penis . It i s interestin g t o not e tha t i n th e "Que sais-je" volum e o n transsexuals, Talmudic law is quoted a s prohibiting marriage betwee n

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59

a hermaphrodite, o r a n "either-man-or-woman " (ou-bien-homme-oubien-femme), an d a man . I f th e hermaphrodit e wer e a man , th e part ners woul d b e transgressin g th e Biblica l ba n o n homosexuality . I f th e hermaphrodite wer e a woman , o n th e othe r hand , he r marriag e t o another woma n woul d simpl y b e void (Pettit i 1992 : 118) . (That ther e should alread y b e a volum e o n transsexualit y i n th e "Que sais-je" series, a n encyclopedi c collectio n o f booklet s o n suc h issue s a s th e Channel tunnel , Frenc h slang , Nort h Africa n literature , use d mostl y by French student s t o cram fo r exams , is interesting in itself.) Whethe r the hermaphrodites ' anatom y o r thei r sexua l orientatio n i s taken int o consideration, i t is always th e masculine elemen t whic h i s decisive. 10. Tak e a s rea d a referenc e t o th e wor k o f Judit h Butle r o n gende r a s a performative: Gender Trouble (Routledg e 1990 ) o r Bodies That Matter (Routledg e 1993) , whichever .

References Where tw o date s appear , th e firs t i s th e dat e o f firs t publication , th e second th e editio n tha t I hav e use d i n thi s stud y an d t o whic h pag e numbers therefor e refer . Barnes, Djun a (1928 , 1993) . Ladies Almanack. Ne w York : Ne w Yor k University Press . Barney, Natalie Cliffor d (1902) . Cinq Petits Dialogues grecs. Paris: Plume. (1910). Eparpillements. Paris : Sansot . (1920). Pensees d'une amazone. Paris : Emile-Paul . (1930) The One Who Is Legion, or A.D.'s Afterlife. London : Par tridge. (i960). Souvenirs indiscrets. Paris : Flammarion . Benjamin, Walte r (1968) . Illuminations: Essays and Reflections. Ne w York: Schocke n Books . Billy, Andre (1951) . VEpoque 1900. Paris : Tallandier . Butler, Judith (1990) . Gender Trouble. London : Routledge . (1993). Bodies That Matter. London : Routledge . Chalon, Jean (1976 , 1992) . Chere Natalie Barney. Paris : Flammarion . Colette (1903 , 1972) . Claudine s'en va. Paris : Livre de Poche. (1931? 1971 ) Le Pur et Vimpur. Paris : Livre de Poche. Delarue-Mardrus (1908) . Marie, fille-mere. Paris : Fasquelle .

6o

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(1909). he Roman de six petites fdles. Paris : Fasquelle . (1919)- L'Ame aux trois visages. Paris : Gedalge . (1925). Hortensia degeneree. Paris : Fasquelle . (1929). Les Amours d'Oscar Wilde. Paris : Flammarion . (1935). Une Femme mure et Vamour. Paris : Fasquelle . (1938). Mes memoires. Paris : Gallimard . (1957). Nos secretes amours. Paris : Les Isles. Epstein, Juli a (1990) . "Either/Or—Neither/Both : Sexua l Ambiguit y an d the Ideolog y o f Gender. " I n Genders, No . 7 . Foucault, Miche l (1976) . La Volonte de savoir. Paris : Gallimard . (1978). Herculine Bar bin dite Alexina B. Paris : Gallimard . Hall, Radclyffe (1928 , 1990) . The Well of Loneliness. Ne w York : Bantam , Doubleday, Dell . Harry, Myria m (1946) . Mon amie, Lucie Delarue-Mardrus. Paris : Ariane. Jay, Karl a (1988) . The Amazon and the Page. Bloomington : Indian a University Press . Kessler, Suzann e (1990) . "Th e Medica l Constructio n o f Gender : Cas e Management o f Intersexe d Infants. " I n Signs, vol . 16 , no. 1 . Newman-Gordon, Paulin e (1991) . "Luci e Delarue-Mardrus. " I n Sartori , Eva Martin , an d Doroth y Wynn e Zimmerma n (eds.) . French Women Writers: A Bio-Bibliographical Source Book. Ne w York : Greenwoo d Press. Pettiti, Louis-Edmon d (1992) . Les Transsexuels. Paris : Presse s universi taires de France, "Qu e sais-je? " series . Plat, Helen e (1994) . Lucie Delarue-Mardrus: Une Femme de lettres des annees folles. Paris : Grasset . Pougy, Lian e d e (1901 , 1979) . Idylle sapphique. Paris : J C Lattes. (1977). Mes cahiers bleus. Paris : Plon . Reval, Gabrielle (1924) . La Chaine des dames. Paris : Cres . Stein, Gertrude (1950) . Things As They Are. Banya n Press . Vivien, Renee (1904a , 1983) . La Dame a la louve. Ne w York : Ga y Presse s of Ne w York . (1904a, 1977) . Une Femme mapparut. Paris : Desforges . Woolf, Virgini a (1928 , 1956) . Orlando. Ne w York : Harcourt , Brace , Jovanovich.

The Angel and the Perverts

[I]

He ofte n dreame d tha t hi s mother , o r rathe r th e blin d beas t which work s withi n u s independentl y o f ou r minds , ha d been expectin g twin s whil e sh e wa s carryin g him , for , eve r since th e ag e whe n huma n being s ente r int o th e agon y o f the soul , h e ha d fel t instinctivel y a t hi s sid e a mysteriou s second self . The fin e lad y wit h th e reticen t eyes , wh o carrie d th e dis tinction an d stiffnes s o f he r rac e in her ver y marrow, insiste d from th e cradl e onwar d tha t sh e alon e woul d loo k afte r th e sickly creature sh e had brough t int o the world. Sh e never lef t the chil d i n th e hand s o f a n underling , eve n fo r a minute . A rare qualit y fo r a n Anglo-Saxo n woman , especiall y on e o f high class. Later sh e continued t o wash, dress, play with him , and pu t hi m t o be d withou t an y hel p fro m a nanny . I t wa s ^3

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from he r h e learne d hi s firs t prayers , an d t o read , write , an d count i n English an d French . In Franc e a t leas t thi s woul d suppos e th e mos t intens e tenderness betwee n mothe r an d son . Bu t th e dr y kis s wit h which th e to t wa s greete d eac h mornin g an d sen t awa y eac h evening wa s enoug h t o maintai n a terribl e distanc e betwee n them. The formalit y o f playtim e wa s chilling : "Play!" Madam e d e Valdeclare would order . And i f occasionally , o n rain y days , sh e would condescen d to pla y a fe w game s o f snake s an d ladders , n o familiarit y accompanied thi s pastime . It seem s ver y probabl e tha t th e father , a hard , tacitur n man, imposed suc h a child-rearing syste m on his wife, terror izing he r int o th e bargain . I t wa s clea r tha t h e fle d th e sigh t of hi s onl y offspring , i n who m h e inspire d a monstrou s terror. A hostile strange r woul d no t hav e looke d a t th e poo r child with greate r malevolence . Occasionally th e boy would b e taken fo r a drive in the ca r Hervin d e Valdeclare use d t o visi t his farms, o r t o journe y a s far a s Pari s wher e h e ha d busines s wit h variou s lawyers . A s they passe d throug h endles s plain s o f beetroot , whic h non e of the m bothere d t o loo k at , th e chil d woul d clin g t o hi s mother an d kee p hi s hea d stubbornl y lowere d t o avoi d glimpsing th e fac e o f th e gentleman wit h th e lon g moustach e whose so n h e was. The first abbe t o com e t o th e chateau, a n arrogan t ol d ecclesiastic brough t bac k fro m Pari s afte r a shor t busines s trip, di d nothin g t o alleviat e th e regim e t o whic h on e o f th e gentlest littl e boys o n eart h ha d bee n subjected . So b e it . Al l parent s ar e distan t an d suspicious , al l priest s toothless an d surly , al l children treate d lik e guilty prisoners . Both delicat e an d hardy , th e littl e bo y alternate d betwee n

The Angel and the Perverts

^5

his be d an d th e schoolroom , woul d catc h u p a month' s illness in three days . At times they would hav e to restrain th e feverish eagernes s wit h whic h h e learne d hi s lesson s an d di d his homework , whil e a t other s h e ha d t o b e punishe d fo r his laziness. Kept implacabl y awa y fro m othe r children , h e di d no t even g o t o catechis m lesson s whe n th e tim e came , bu t re ceived tha t piou s instructio n fro m th e abbe. H e wa s forbid den t o spea k t o th e servants . H e coul d no t pla y withou t supervision. Th e abbe's reig n di d nothin g t o en d thi s jealou s surveillance. Th e slende r Englishwoma n sa t silentl y throug h every lesson , accompanie d the m o n ever y walk. An d a t nigh t the little lad slep t in a small roo m nex t t o hers . Deprived o f an y intimac y wit h th e represse d individual s who people d hi s world , brough t u p o n har d work , coldness , and enigma , h e turne d hi s gaz e towar d th e void , ful l o f th e questions an d absurdit y o f childhood . Hi s grea t eyes , i n which thre e distinc t color s coul d b e see n lai d ou t lik e a rose window , wer e shadowe d b y the prominen t ridge s o f hi s eyebrows, which stoo d ou t upo n a forehead ric h i n intellect . With hi s thi n finger s an d a fac e consume d b y pallor , hi s whole slende r bein g bor e tha t ai r o f patho s whic h mark s th e beauty o f th e invalid . "Mother," 1 h e woul d say . Mamma woul d hav e bee n to o gentle fo r thi s chil d who m n o on e loved . N o on e calle d hi m "tu." H e had n o dog . No cat . His only friend wa s the unbor n double wh o obsesse d an d defie d hi m al l a t once , demoni c familiar o f thi s troubled , troublin g being . Since h e wa s neve r alone , i t wa s onl y whe n preparin g hi s lessons fo r th e abbe, o r whe n h e wa s i n be d tha t h e coul d call up th e phantom's presence . We forge t s o man y o f th e dream s o f ou r earl y year s an d

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no on e i s ther e t o recor d the m i n time . Th e visionar y cre ations o f childhood , an d o f som e childhood s mor e tha n oth ers, would prov e t o b e masterpiece s o f poetr y o r fantas y fo r one wh o coul d writ e the m dow n i n a language clos e enoug h to thei r conception . The littl e Valdeclar e lowere d hi s eye s hypocriticall y ove r the pag e and , speechless , chattere d wit h hi s mut e other , hi s invisible brother . Th e game s o f hi s imaginatio n whirle d around insid e hi s head , veritabl e creation s i n whic h th e ge nius of thos e tender year s overflowed. Th e delights, quarrels , and poeti c enthusiasm s o f hi s imaginatio n cause d suc h a range o f expression s t o pas s ove r hi s absorbe d countenanc e that hi s mothe r woul d as k i n alarm , "Wha t i s th e matter , Marion?" 2 She pronounced i t "Marion, " a n Englis h nam e whic h ca n be use d fo r eithe r sex . Th e littl e bo y woul d jump , woke n with a star t a s thoug h fro m sleep . No plausibl e explanatio n came to mind. He had bee n bent over an arithmetic problem ! He woul d loo k fearfull y a t th e woma n sewin g o n th e othe r side o f th e tabl e wh o wa s secretl y watchin g him . Quickl y h e would improvise : " I wa s thinkin g abou t Monsieur I 9abbe. He nearl y fel l ove r yesterda y whe n h e wa s throwin g m e th e ball. Didn't yo u see? " But he hated tha t ball , officially sanctione d recreatio n wit h no roo m fo r th e fantasti c o r th e intangible . H e ha d bee n given i t th e previou s Christma s instea d o f th e dol l h e ha d asked for . No r wa s h e allowe d t o cu t ou t figures i n gol d an d colored paper . H e go t n o pleasur e fro m a wooden puzzl e o r a littl e mechanica l car . Th e onl y to y h e enjoye d wa s a n ol d kaleidoscope whic h ha d bee n i n the famil y fo r years . He wa s amazed t o th e poin t o f terro r tha t the y le t hi m vanis h int o

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that littl e fairyland . "I f I look int o i t too often , they'l l tak e i t away fro m me. " H e di d no t realiz e wha t a martyrdo m hi s childhood was . H e woul d hav e like d t o hid e awa y s o h e could pla y wit h th e marvelous toy , feeling a s though h e wer e doing something forbidden . Bu t there was nowhere t o hide . His favorite ritua l o f th e da y was going to bed . I t was tru e his mother coul d se e him fro m he r bedside , her eye s burnin g in the shadow o f the nightlight. But, turning toward th e wall, he experience d a momen t o f inexpressibl e release . H e wa s two onc e again , an d h e smile d a t hi s brother . Unfortunatel y he would doz e of f to o fast . Bu t befor e slippin g int o tha t en d of everythin g whic h w e cal l sleep , he had tim e t o confid e hi s secrets. On e bab y wor d remaine d i n hi s privat e vocabulary . He would lis t the day's sorrows : "Bobo, 3 th e stor y o f th e unlearne d lesso n . . . Bobo , th e story o f playin g bal l whe n I didn' t wan t t o . . . Bobo , th e story o f Fathe r o n th e stairs . . . " And, o n certai n evenings , this cr y o f utte r despair , "Bobo , the story o f everything! " As h e gre w up , h e stoppe d dreamin g s o muc h an d thre w himself int o hi s studies. At fourteen h e wrote Lati n poetry a s though i t wer e child' s play , kne w severa l play s b y Racin e and Corneill e b y heart , wa s beginnin g integra l calculus , pol ishing u p hi s knowledg e o f botany , ha d starte d astronomy , spoke fluen t English , an d wa s readin g th e Germa n poets . They ha d ha d t o find a ne w abbe. On e afte r anothe r hi s successors gave up o n thi s all-consuming pupil . "He'll becom e a Benedictine!" the y would sa y in alarm . The first tim e thi s wor d wa s spoken , Mario n witnesse d a miracle: a smile on Madam e d e Valdeclare's tigh t lips.

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A little late r sh e aske d hi m wha t hi s intention s were . If h e wanted t o g o t o th e seminary , the y woul d no t stan d i n his way . At table his father wen t s o far a s to addres s hi m directly . "The bes t thin g yo u coul d d o woul d b e t o becom e a priest!" He mad e n o reply . H e s o seldo m spoke ! Then a veritabl e siege began aroun d tha t adolescen t boy . The abbe, th e village priest fo r who m he' d bee n servin g mass for th e last six years, his mother, eve n his fathe r al l clamored : "Seminary! Seminary! " But the dail y surveillanc e gre w worse, not better . He endure d i t a s h e ha d whe n h e wa s little , bu t no w h e felt himsel f t o b e superio r t o tha t ol d Protestan t woman , th e shrunken figur e whos e hai r wa s alread y grey , wh o wen t o n sewing soundlessl y ami d hi s books , gentl e tyran t wit h a n English accent . Wheneve r h e lifte d hi s eye s t o he r face , sh e would tur n her s away . Sometime s h e woul d thro w bac k hi s seraphic hea d an d watc h he r withou t speaking . A moment' s silent insolence . Embarrassed , sh e woul d coug h an d i n a voice whic h becam e mor e an d mor e hesitant , woul d ask , "What i s the matter , Marion?" 4 But he no longe r eve n deigne d t o reply . Fifteen year s old . Hi s siniste r childhoo d wa s over . H e wa s about t o ente r th e ag e o f independence . H e wa s impatien t for th e da y whe n cowardic e woul d yiel d t o manl y vigor . What sham e i t was t o fee l s o timorous ! He trie d obsessivel y t o catc h glimpse s o f himsel f i n th e mirror, woul d fee l hi s hairles s uppe r li p furtively . Th e first

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hairs o f hi s moustach e woul d b e a signa l fo r revolutio n throughout hi s being. His heart bea t fas t a t th e idea . "We'll le t the m se e what me n w e are! " h e boaste d nightl y to his shadow twin . For hi s fathe r h e fel t a most particula r hatred , tha t malefi cent idler foreve r locke d awa y i n his useless office . "The seminar y wil l b e ou r escap e rout e fro m thi s house . Then he'l l see ! And th e abbe? . . . And Mother? 5 Wha t wil l they al l say? " He laughe d int o hi s pillow , th e solitar y laug h t o whic h h e had bee n condemned , a sickly mirt h tha t h e stifled a s thoug h it were indecent . An d suddenl y th e laug h woul d stop , a sig h too bi g for hi m woul d fill his throat . "Bobo, th e stor y o f th e moustach e whic h wil l no t grow! " Then, suddenly , death . The first da y tha t sh e too k t o he r bed , Mother 6 calle d fo r her son . This ha d happene d before . H e woul d the n hav e t o wor k at he r bedsid e fo r a s lon g a s sh e was lai d up . The abbe, wh o could no t ente r th e room , woul d wai t unti l sh e wa s bette r before resumin g hi s lessons. But th e abbe di d no t wait . H e packe d hi s bag s an d fle d one mornin g a s soo n a s i t wa s announce d tha t sh e ha d influenza. H e ha d hear d thi s wa s infectious , whic h i t wa s indeed. Seeing tw o diamond s i n th e dyin g woman' s eyes , Mario n bent ove r th e bed . Mother 7 too k hol d o f hi s hand s an d grasped the m i n hers , move d b y a n extraordinar y force . H e heard he r utter , "M y poo r poo r child!" 8

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Remorse a t last! Tenderness in extremis! For th e first time in his life h e cried out , "Mamma! " But sh e wa s n o longe r aliv e t o hea r it . Los t i n deat h and incomprehensio n h e turne d towar d hi s fathe r standin g motionless a t th e foo t o f th e be d an d caugh t hi s loo k o f hatred. Th e man' s lip s moved , "Yo u hav e mad e he r suffe r enough, th e poor woman. " "Me?" h e exclaimed wit h a sob . Two figures i n blac k i n th e over-larg e dinin g room : fathe r and so n having a tete-a-tete. "I canno t loo k afte r you . You r mothe r neede d t o b e her e for that. " "Yes," sai d Marion , i n tones like a boy's voic e breaking . "It's impossibl e fo r m e t o sta y her e alone . I hav e t o g o away, trave l abroad . Bu t al l th e same , I can't ver y wel l sen d you t o th e Jesuits!" "Why, Father? . . . Why, Father? " Intense hope had jus t called out to him. Othe r schoolboys ! Oh t o ge t awa y fro m th e chateau, fro m th e bee t fields! To live! "Because." The grim mout h snappe d shut . Silence . One da y h e woul d understan d th e despai r wit h whic h hi s mother ha d doubtles s love d him , a n anxiou s do g guardin g her littl e one agains t wild beasts—an d suc h beasts ! As h e wa s leavin g college—leavin g hell—(bearin g ever y possible diplom a an d withou t havin g see n hi s fathe r again , even durin g vacation , sinc e th e latte r ha d abruptl y decide d on th e Jesuits) h e learne d tha t h e was a n orphan , hei r t o th e

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northern chateau whic h ha d bee n bombe d durin g th e war , and t o what littl e remaine d o f his family's wealth . He ha d alway s bee n alon e i n th e world. H e se t off bitterl y upon th e roa d t o life , accompanie d b y hi s double , hi s strange, ill-starred double—th e tain t o f hi s birth .

[II]

"It's n o us e botherin g her . Sh e care s fo r nothin g an d n o one." The voic e o f Laurett e Well s remaine d coo l an d self-pos sessed a s sh e pronounced thes e words , a most ironi c expres sion o f anger . Sh e rewrapped he r leg s in th e ermin e blanket , pulling i t ou t fro m unde r Janin e wh o wa s curle d u p a t th e foot o f th e bed . He r steel y eye s sent ou t spark s i n th e moon light o f he r bedroom , whic h looke d brighte r tha n eve r tha t evening. The play o f th e mirrors , the Venetian chandelier , th e grea t quantities o f rar e crystal , decke d th e silhouette s o f th e furni ture an d th e white anima l skin s with icicle s of reflecte d light . A trac e o f perfum e floated i n th e bluis h meander s o f th e air, driftin g u p fro m th e third membe r o f th e group wh o wa s 73

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smoking continually . Th e bar e windows , lookin g ou t o n th e garden a t five o'cloc k i n th e afternoon , wer e blac k wit h winter. The contralt o voic e o f th e woma n sittin g motionless , smoking a littl e wa y of f fro m th e others , gav e Laurett e an d Janine a start . I t wa s har d t o ge t use d t o thos e dee p tones , which brok e wit h bizarr e suddenness . "Did you hea r that , Janine? I care for nothin g an d n o one . Perfectly put. " "Oh really! " Janine protested . "You'r e no t tryin g to mak e us believe . . . " The gir l with th e hoars e voic e was resigned . "Of course . I knew yo u wouldn' t giv e up!" Before settlin g bac k i n th e viole t armchair , sh e stretche d her larg e han d towar d th e cigarette s lai d ou t o n th e Chines e table. Tha t momentar y glimps e o f he r profil e displaye d th e cut of her hair, like a gleaming helmet, well-chiseled features , and a thin , extremel y sorrowfu l mouth . I t als o showe d u p her lightl y powdere d ey e lid , he r prominen t brow , i n whos e shadow dwelle d th e three differen t blue s o f he r eyes . Janine bega n t o pout . "You car e fo r nothin g an d n o one ! What a pity! A beautiful youn g lad y lik e you! " "Who sai d I was a young lady? " The gracefu l youn g thin g lyin g sprawled ou t a t the foot o f the be d no w gaze d i n fascinatio n a t thos e eye s of tripl e blue . Then Mario n laughed . Sh e pu t he r fist t o he r mout h t o stifle th e soun d whic h ha d n o righ t t o com e out : a horribl e childhood memory , a thin g half-bor n tha t make s peopl e shudder. Once it was over , sh e said, "Gues s what I am?"

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"An archangel! " Janine crie d earnestly . " A beautifu l arch angel who ha s com e dow n t o eart h t o visit us! " "And wh o wil l fl y of f agai n i n a hurry, " Laurett e scolde d under he r breath , "i f yo u kee p o n askin g hi m t o te a i n tha t ridiculous fashion . Archangel s d o no t g o t o te a wit h littl e divorcees. Leave her alone , all of you. I've told you, she care s for nothin g an d n o one. " "She doe s not car e fo r yo u . . . It's no t th e sam e thing. " "Nor fo r you. " Marion, he r tailore d sui t tigh t agains t he r narro w hips , legs crossed, was smoking , he r thought s elsewhere . "Janine, ar e you goin g home o n foo t tonight? " "Yes. It's just next door . D o you wan t t o com e with me? " "Oh no ! . . . Absolutel y not! " Mario n cried , he r Englis h accent stil l evident , while Laurette , brought u p i n our board ing schools , spok e Frenc h withou t an y trac e o f a Britis h accent. "Why d o yo u as k i f I' m goin g home alone , Marion? " "Because I notice d somethin g i n Laurette' s garde n whic h you to o wil l se e a s yo u pas s th e ar c lam p i n th e moonlight . Stand stil l a moment nex t t o th e bush , yo u know , th e on e b y the bend i n the main avenue ? Eve n here in Neuilly. . . } Soo n you'll se e someone' s shado w comin g towar d yo u alon g th e ground. You'l l loo k u p t o se e wh o i t is , bu t yo u won' t se e anyone, becaus e ther e won' t b e anyon e there . Th e shado w will walk alon g the groun d al l by itself. " "Oh I like that!" sai d Laurette , who wa s a poet . But Janin e shivered , "I' m scared ! I'l l neve r dar e wal k across th e park now ! Com e with me , Marion! " "You would b e much mor e frightened wit h her . I'll let you have the driver. "

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Janine go t u p sadl y an d pu t o n he r coat . "It's rotte n tha t I have to g o home t o have tea a t my hous e . . . And it' s rotte n tha t Mario n won' t com e with me! " "Pretty, don' t yo u think ? . . . " sai d Laurett e afte r sh e ha d gone. "Very." "Why s o cold t o her , Marion? " "Why shoul d I be otherwise? Sh e doesn't interes t me. " "Me neither ! So superficial. . . And, purely fro m th e physical point o f view , she leaves something t o b e desired. " "Not eve n that! " Mario n exclaimed , lightin g u p anothe r cigarette. "Someon e wh o lef t somethin g t o b e desired , ho w wonderful! Tha t wa y on e could mak e u p th e rest. How goo d it must fee l t o desir e someone! " "You're thirt y year s old , Marion , an d you'v e neve r wanted anyone? " "No." "You lef t tha t tas k t o other s whe n the y wer e lookin g at you. " "Unfortunately, yes! " "Don't ge t you r hunte d look . I' m no t th e others . Thes e last fou r year s I'v e know n whe n t o stop. " "You haven' t learne d al l tha t well ; otherwis e you' d sto p asking me these questions. " Tea wa s brough t in . The y switche d t o Englis h i n fron t o f the servant . Alone onc e more , they went bac k t o French . "Why?" Mario n remarked . "You'r e America n an d I' m half English. " "That's jus t it . Th e trut h i s easie r i n a foreig n language . It's lik e wearing a mask. "

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"You're a s fond o f th e truth a s that? " "It depend s o n wh o I' m with. " "And you'v e chose n me? " Laurette's lef t eyebro w ros e slowly , a sig n o f surpris e o r emotion t o thos e wh o kne w he r well . Pin k an d white , he r hair dresse d wit h spu n glass , he r col d energ y coul d onl y b e seen i n he r thic k eyebrows , i n th e sturd y ridg e o f he r fleshy , slightly hooke d nose , i n th e outlin e o f he r sensua l mout h with thei r beautifu l whit e teeth , an d lip s whic h twitche d u p at th e corner s whe n sh e smiled , givin g a sudde n mockin g cast to her face . She ha d th e rounde d line s o f a ver y feminin e body , hai r like a fairy's , a sof t voice , an d sh e blushe d self-consciously . As thoug h wit h carefu l craft , a deliciou s crayo n blende d th e surprise i n he r eye s into a swor d blade , which sparkle d wit h intelligence, sarcasm , an d stron g will . Thos e eye s seeme d t o see only on e thin g a t a time, but the y too k i n everything . Marion pu t dow n he r cup , opene d he r purs e an d re touched he r lipstic k befor e lightin g anothe r cigarette . Ab sently, Laurette pushed th e candies toward her ; sh e had bee n picking the m u p an d eatin g the m withou t choosin g amongs t them, a s thoug h the y wer e morsel s o f bread . Th e bo x wa s soon empty . Stil l lyin g o n th e bed , he r fac e i n Marion' s ear length hair , Laurett e murmured : "Than k you , Marion , fo r being wha t yo u are . I though t I wa s n o longe r capabl e o f suffering, an d yo u hav e give n m e back tha t ability. " "Don't b e s o melodramatic, " sai d Marion . "Suc h nobl e suffering i s easil y consoled . Th e roo m woul d b e ful l i f on e included onl y you r lates t victims , no t countin g Janine, who , you say , does not interes t you. " "Janine . . . Oh ye s . . . I love the shap e o f he r nostrils! "

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"I know ! I know! Yo u ar e th e Gree k sculpto r wh o make s one statu e ou t o f th e feature s o f twent y differen t women . Janine's nostril s hav e serve d yo u jus t lik e th e eye s o f th e woman i n th e train . Yo u probabl y don' t eve n remembe r what yo u tol d me , tw o year s ago , whe n yo u go t bac k fro m Constantinople." "No, Marion. " "I wa s askin g yo u abou t you r impression s o f th e tri p . . . Why di d you g o to Constantinopl e i n the first place?" "Yes . . . Why di d I go to Constantinople? " "Doubtless n o on e will eve r know , no t eve n yourself. Yo u see nothin g whe n yo u trave l bu t th e detail s o f th e face s around you . I n an y case , yo u sai d t o me , 'Turkey ? . . . A young girl got into m y compartment an d sh e made m e forge t why I had left . I loved ho w he r eye s were se t in her head! ' " Laurette bega n t o laug h he r famou s laugh , almos t a s sof t as he r voice , bu t whos e sudde n gaiet y wa s a s hones t a s a child's . "Oh Marion ! Ho w I love you! " Marion considere d he r fo r a momen t wit h a curiou s loo k in her eye . "You lov e m e becaus e yo u kno w ver y wel l I will no t pu t up wit h you r pretentiou s sentimentality . Yo u find i t re laxing." In th e fac e o f attac k o r criticism , Laurette' s respons e wa s always elegant . "My sentiment s ar e frivolous , I know . Bu t on e ca n onl y give wha t i s aske d o f one . Wit h yo u I a m quit e simple , Marion." "Perhaps. When there' s n o on e else around. "

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"Why d o you d o people the honor o f your presenc e on oc casion?" "Oh, her e it comes! Because I like eggs with clea r yolks. " "Eggs with clea r yolks! How pretty ! What doe s i t mean? " "It mean s infertil e egg s whic h wil l neve r produc e any thing." "Really? . . . And wh y doe s tha t appea l t o you? " "Because on e alway s like s that whic h on e resembles. " "But Marion , yo u don' t hav e a clea r yolk ! Someon e wh o can write th e tw o play s you rea d t o m e . . . " "Which wil l never b e performed . . . " "What doe s tha t matter ? I t doesn't sto p the m existing. " "Laurette, I hop e yo u wil l neve r spea k o f the m agai n t o anyone! I read the m t o yo u o n tha t condition . Bu t you wen t and tol d everyon e . . . " "You kno w ver y wel l I am lik e a secre t lock . Th e mecha nism i s so complicated i t is easier t o ope n tha n th e others. " "Yes, I realiz e tha t now . That' s wh y I'l l neve r tel l yo u another thing. " "Marion! I t i s a sham e t o kee p suc h beautifu l writin g fo r me alone . There i s genius i n you r plays . When wil l yo u rea d them here ? I'l l invit e theater people , artists , critics . . . " "Laurette, you'r e impossible ! Why d o I have t o kee p tell ing you tha t I do no t wan t peopl e t o kno w I write plays? " "Darling, people must know. " Marion, s o pal e already , gre w pale r still . Sh e kne w tha t the sof t voic e coul d g o o n indefinitel y repeatin g thing s i t ha d been forbidde n t o say . Mario n hi t th e ar m o f th e viole t armchair wit h he r fist. He r ange r wa s contagiou s an d Laur ette's eyes , which ha d suddenl y gon e hard, gre w darker .

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"When on e i s wha t yo u are , on e shoul d no t kee p silent . Superiority mus t hav e its place as well as stupidity. Yo u . . . " "I'm leaving! " sai d Marion , gettin g t o he r feet . " I kno w you'll g o on harpin g abou t i t until tomorro w morning . You r stupendous obstinac y ma y b e th e sinceres t o f you r vices , which latte r I only hal f believ e in despit e al l you d o t o mak e them known. " "No!" Laurett e begged . "Don' t go ! You'r e no t goin g t o leave me all alone with m y vices?" "It's no t suc h ba d compan y . . . " "What i f I prefer yours? " "It's amusin g whe n yo u pla y th e ladies ' man, " Mario n said in her hoars e voice . "Especiall y wit h me . It's funny. " "Why?" "Because . . . " A silenc e fell , durin g whic h eac h o f the m doubtles s wen t over al l th e thing s on e neve r says , eve n whe n involve d i n a heart-to-heart. Laurett e wa s th e firs t t o spea k again , her eye s soft, he r cheek s blushing . "Do I have a s many vice s as that, Marion? " "A few , Laurette, " Mario n replied , sittin g dow n again . "Or perhap s onl y one, but you definitel y hav e al l the charac ter flaws. " Laurette looke d a t her , subdued . N o on e eve r hear d he r defend herself , eve n when wrongl y accused , a rare thing . Abruptly, i n a lo w voice , a s thoug h he r sens e o f decenc y fought agains t it , Mario n declared , "Bu t yo u ar e th e onl y person i n the world I care fo r eve n a little." "Darling . . . " Laurett e murmured . "You ar e perverse," Mario n wen t o n with mute d indigna tion, "dissolute , self-centered , unfair , stubborn , sometime s

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miserly, ofte n play-acting , irritatin g mos t o f th e tim e . . . a monster, i n fact . Bu t yo u ar e a genuin e rebel , eve r read y t o incite others t o rebellion. A t heart, a good sort . Perhap s I am wrong bu t I a m sur e tha t i f I , o r anothe r o f you r friends , were arrested on e day, let's say for theft , yo u would b e there, and i t woul d no t affec t you r friendshi p i n th e leas t becaus e you ar e capabl e o f lovin g someon e jus t a s the y are , eve n a thief—i n thi s lie s you r onl y fidelity. An d s o yo u hav e my respect. " Laurette wa s listenin g attentively , summin g he r u p i n a low voic e a s thoug h t o herself : "Yo u ar e certainl y th e mos t mysterious woma n I know, Mario n . . . " "Perhaps . . ." "You ar e youn g an d beautifu l an d yo u wan t nothin g t o do with love . You hav e enormou s talen t an d yo u don' t wan t anyone t o kno w abou t it . A s fo r you r life , n o on e ha s an y idea wha t it' s like . I hav e know n yo u fo r fou r year s an d I know nothin g abou t you—nothin g bu t th e essentials, " sh e added wit h he r prettiest smile . "The essential s . . . " Mario n mused . "Yes . . . I know yo u lov e music, beauty, the arts, indepen dence, tha t yo u hav e rea d everything , studie d everything , that yo u kno w everything , tha t yo u ca n d o s o man y thing s . . . I know tha t you'r e bitter , sa d . . . " "No. I hav e invente d m y ow n happines s withou t othe r people. That's all. " "Happiness whic h ha s give n yo u tha t desolat e loo k abou t the mouth . . . " Marion go t t o he r fee t i n on e bound . "That's anothe r story! " The littl e fel t ha t wa s pulle d dow n ove r th e gloss y hair ,

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the sui t disappeare d unde r th e broadclot h o f he r coat , cu t like a man's overcoat . "Laurette, I heard yo u sa y earlier tha t you were dining ou t and tha t yo u wer e expecte d a t a ver y earl y hour . I mus t interest yo u considerabl y seein g tha t yo u hav e no t starte d gazing a t th e doors , longin g t o sidl e throug h them . For , despite you r affectatio n o f comin g fro m nowhere , yo u ar e terribly American . Twenty-fiv e differen t appointment s i n al l corners o f Pari s a t th e sam e time , withou t countin g five minutes a t th e theater , a quarte r o f a n hou r a t a concert : a pathological cas e o f th e fidgets fro m al l th e ferries , trains , and hotel s yo u trundle d aroun d i n a t to o youn g a n age , lik e all the little Yankee s wh o ar e too ric h fo r thei r ow n good. " Laurette le t out a peal o f hones t laughte r whic h seeme d t o put he r i n a state of innocence . When sh e had finished laugh ing a t he r ow n expense , sh e turne d persuasively , caressingl y to Marion : "Marion , i f you' d sta y her e wit h me , I wouldn' t go out t o dinner , I wouldn't eve n know I was expected. " "No!" At thi s unanswerabl e "No, " Laurett e go t slowl y t o he r feet, swathe d i n the white fold s o f he r gown . Sh e put ou t he r hand fo r th e col d handshak e o f he r people . He r eye s wer e already looking a t the clock which hun g above her bed. Since Marion woul d no t stay , sh e suddenl y fel t terribl y late ; fo r whoever sh e may be , an America n neve r forget s th e time . The tal l gir l wit h th e hoars e voic e ha d alread y stridde n away without a backward glance .

[Ill]

The tal l gir l wit h th e hoars e voic e whistle d fo r a tax i los t i n the waste s o f Neuill y borderin g th e Seine . I n th e tim e i t would tak e t o get to th e addres s sh e had give n the driver, sh e would b e able to smok e a t leas t two cigarettes . She settle d dow n i n th e corne r o f th e seat , li t up , an d fel l into though t wit h th e bumpin g o f th e car . The pleasur e o f returnin g t o he r shabb y bachelo r fla t awaited he r i n a littl e stree t lik e a twistin g medieva l drago n of th e Lef t Bank . "My lif e . . . " Mario n mused . Even whe n ther e wa s n o on e t o hear , he r derisiv e laug h was quickl y smothered . Just befor e sh e arrived , sh e too k ou t th e littl e tub e o f Vaseline, whic h sh e use d t o remov e he r make-up . Onc e thi s 83

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task wa s accomplished , sh e closed th e ba g an d stuffe d i t int o the pocket o f he r overcoat . Afte r sh e paid th e driver , sh e ha d three stories to climb . The house went no higher. She glanced in a t th e concierge' s lodg e a s sh e passe d th e mezzanine . A t last sh e fit th e ke y into he r loc k an d sh e was home . He was home . It too k bu t a fe w brie f movements , contemporar y feminin e fashion lendin g itsel f t o thi s kin d o f transformation . Th e time t o replac e he r shor t skir t wit h a pai r o f lon g pant s an d Marion, th e girl of thirty , became again th e eternal youth sh e really was . She le t ou t a dee p sig h o f relief . Whe n on e ha s bee n brought u p a s a boy , it' s hard , eve n afte r severa l years ' practice, to fee l a t hom e dresse d a s a woman . A quic k strok e o f th e com b throug h th e sleeked-dow n helmet o f hi s hair an d hi s curls were free . Lookin g a t himsel f in the mirror, he saw once again the inspired seraphi m o f old . Young Valdeclar e wa s almos t a s unusual a s a n adolescen t boy a s Mis s Hervi n wa s a s a youn g lady . I n th e en d hi s childhood twi n ha d turne d ou t t o b e a n olde r sister . What a real strok e o f luc k t o hav e a nam e whic h coul d serv e a dual purpose . "I hav e tim e t o ea t something , an d eve n ge t som e wor k done . . . " Mario n though t t o himsel f a s h e sa t dow n t o th e meager plat e o f col d mea t lai d ou t o n th e table . This strang e figur e at e withou t appetite , turnin g ove r th e pages o f a n ol d boo k wit h gol d leaves . Books wer e th e onl y luxury i n hi s miserabl e dwelling , an d a grea t luxur y the y were. A har d sofabe d i n on e corner , a larg e woode n wor k

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table painte d white , wit h roo m t o ea t a t on e end , tw o can e chairs, a leathe r armchair , a Loui s XV I bureau , an d th e narrow roo m wa s full . Th e ga s radiato r seeme d t o tak e u p an enormou s amoun t o f space . But there was n o tellin g wha t the wallpape r looke d like , sinc e th e wall s wer e line d fro m floor t o ceilin g with beautifull y boun d tomes , reminiscent o f Franciscan libraries . Nex t doo r ther e wa s a boxroom , a tin y kitchen, an d tha t wa s it . Even Mis s Hervin' s modes t apartmen t i n th e 16t h ha d a little more elegance . Marion rea d an d forgo t hi s dinner . H e als o forgo t tha t i t was col d an d th e ga s wasn' t lit . Th e solitar y electri c bul b gave of f a di m light . Th e document s h e neede d fo r hi s boo k were prett y muc h finished; the y sa t i n a file o n th e tabl e surrounded b y pile s o f othe r papers . Penci l i n hand , h e underlined th e passages whic h woul d b e of use . The boo k h e was workin g o n wa s i n vers e an d too k plac e unde r th e Directoire.1 Youn g Valdeclar e di d th e wor k behin d well known name s fro m ol d families , ekin g a bitte r livin g fro m this unjust labor . Hi s opu s was alread y considerable . H e ha d prepared publi c lecture s fo r a famou s lawye r (fo r h e ha d a law degree) ; collaborate d o n play s whic h wer e grea t hits — and fo r whic h h e ha d don e mor e tha n hal f th e work ; pro vided th e researc h fo r tw o volume s o f history ; writte n th e memoirs o f a ric h aristocrat . Th e smal l fortun e lef t b y hi s father wa s no t enoug h t o live on. As a woman h e had bee n a shorthand/typist fo r a newspape r editor ; a s a man , h e ha d been secretar y t o someon e i n th e theater ; h e ha d writte n fillers for th e dail y papers, done som e interviews. This brain of-all-trades kne w al l th e trick s o f th e literar y worl d an d

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found employmen t i n ever y domain . Mario n console d him self fo r hi s monstrous anonymit y wit h th e independence tha t anonymity brings—th e independenc e o f hi s double life . If anyon e wer e t o se e hi m i n bot h guises , h e ha d hi s explanation ready : "Yes , that' s m y olde r sister, " o r "That' s my younger brother , w e look a lot alike but we had a terribl e falling out . We're n o longe r eve n o n speakin g terms. " Unfortunately, h e coul d no t modulat e hi s voice, which, i n either persona , remaine d th e sam e disconcertin g yodel . "Nine o'cloc k . . . ," Mario n murmured , closin g his book . He go t up , wrappe d hi s scar f aroun d hi s neck , pu t o n hi s overcoat an d fel t hat , an d wen t out . The thi n nocturna l visito r wa s welcome d b y a wav e o f warmth fro m Julie n Midalge' s loft . H e cam e i n fro m th e wintry rai n t o b e greete d b y lights , flowers , th e soun d o f voices, a delightful evenin g i n progress. Walking eve n suc h a short distanc e was ba d fo r hi s delicate constitution . "Here's Marion! " Julien Midalg e exclaimed . He performe d th e introductions . The y exchange d smal l talk. Al l fou r guest s ha d th e sam e wa y o f talking , word s dropping languidl y fro m purse d lip s wit h a n ai r o f complet e exhaustion. Tw o o f the m mus t hav e bee n wearin g make-up , so brilliantl y di d thei r eye s sparkle , an d al l fou r clearl y ha d powder o n thei r cheeks . Onl y Julien , a ma n o f forty-five , bravely sporte d hi s natura l ski n color : opiu m yellow . A bi g shiny nose , smal l blac k eyes , puff y eyelids , an d a bal d skul l in n o wa y impede d hi s habi t o f apin g th e mannerism s o f others, o r perhap s i t wa s th e other s wh o wer e copyin g him . He wa s wearin g gree n pajama s decorate d wit h flower y Ara b designs an d a gol d bracele t o n hi s wrist . H e looke d a com -

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plete clown . Prett y soon , however , hi s young guest s bega n t o compliment him . "My dear , ho w simpl y splendid! " sai d on e a s h e fingere d the cloth . "You hav e to han d i t to him! " sai d a second . A third: "Wh o make s you r pajama s fo r you? " A fourth: "Yo u kno w h e never give s out hi s addresses! " Marion alon e remaine d silent , watche d furtivel y b y th e others. Th e blu e o f hi s eyes , se t ou t lik e th e petal s o f a rose, hi s delicat e pallor , th e despai r aroun d hi s mouth , ha d immediately ha d thei r effect . No w th e discussio n gre w mor e animated a s the y sa t dow n i n armchair s o r stretche d ou t o n divans i n th e diffus e lighting , betwee n exquisitel y arrange d bouquets of flowers centere d aroun d th e pedestal table whic h held th e por t an d biscuits . Th e name s o f shirt-maker s wer e passed around , the n th e name s o f boot-maker s an d hat makers. Exclamation s followed . The y insiste d o n al l chat tering a t th e sam e tim e lik e wome n launche d o n th e subjec t of clothes . Ther e wer e onl y tw o foreigners , bu t th e thre e Frenchmen spok e wit h a n accent , th e accen t invente d b y Parisian snob s t o mak e the m soun d cosmopolitan . They coul d no t tel l whethe r Marion , los t i n smoke , wa s listening t o thi s verbiage . Thoug h i t wa s fo r hi s benefi t tha t they wer e goin g t o suc h pains . Whe n a ca t figh t brok e out , all eyes turned t o him , bu t h e did no t eve n smile . "Monsieur d e Valdeclar e i s sa d . . . ," observe d th e on e called Totote . "No!" Midalg e replied . "H e i s los t i n reverie . Quit e an other matter. " "I reall y coul d no t imagin e th e romanti c poe t an y othe r way," sai d Emilio , the Argentinean , gyratin g i n his seat .

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"Absolutely . . . " agree d anothe r emphatically , himsel f s o blond, s o pink, s o transparent h e was the image of Scandina via. " I was thinking th e exact sam e thing myself. " "Except tha t I' m no t a poet, " Mario n snorted . "Stil l les s a romantic! " His voice and hi s laugh generate d th e usual surprise . "That's wha t h e say s . . . Bu t I'v e hear d hi m recit e som e quite admirabl e poetry, " Midalg e revealed . "Writte n anony mously, bu t clearl y hi s ow n work . Tonight , i f h e wer e will ing . . . " "What a trea t tha t woul d be! " Mario n retorte d coldly , "With m y beautiful voic e . . . " "I've neve r see n anythin g s o movin g . . . " murmure d th e small dark-haired man , who ha d bee n devourin g him silentl y with hi s eyes . "O n th e contrary , i t mus t b e quit e sublim e t o hear yo u recit e . . . Oh ! Tha t broke n so b caugh t i n you r throat!" Marion gav e his categorical no! "An untame d s o u l . . . " Totot e declare d admiringly . "And s o mysterious! " Midalg e finished fo r hi m i n a n un dertone. "Wha t di d I tell you? " "Not again! " Mario n exclaimed . "What d o you mean , again? " "I be g you r pardon . I'v e alread y bee n treate d t o al l thi s earlier today. " "Where?" tw o voice s demanded . "Don't imagin e he'l l eve r le t yo u kno w wha t goe s o n i n his life!" Midalg e warned them . All five of the m gaze d a t him, intrigued. H e le t them stare , enigmatic an d col d a s ice, smoking hi s cigarette a s though h e were alon e in the exquisit e furnishing s o f th e loft .

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Midalge, quit e ga y a t times , aske d wit h a n ai r o f amuse ment, "Wh y doe s h e com e an d se e m e fro m tim e t o time , I wonder?" Totote gre w bold . "Th e beautifu l sphin x come s amongs t us only t o b e admired. " And a s Mario n shrugged , th e smal l dark-haire d ma n sai d passionately, " I love his silence. " Gradually the y al l began t o talk abou t hi m i n his presence, as though h e did no t understan d French . Then, suddenly , Mario n rounde d o n them , " I com e t o se e you becaus e . . . Yo u thin k I' m th e strang e beast . Well , it' s entirely th e othe r wa y round! " There wer e muffle d protests , mingle d wit h laughter . "Charming boy! " muttere d Emilio . But th e smal l dark-haire d ma n wa s roused , hi s nostril s flaring, "Le t hi m b e wha t h e is ! Let hi m speak ! . . . Le t hi m speak!..." "You wan t m e to tel l you?" Mario n continued , consume d with rag e whic h h e force d himsel f no t t o le t show . "I'v e already mad e thi s speec h onc e toda y . . . (O h yes , I know! ) So here i t is: You interes t m e because you ar e eggs with clea r yolks, yo u know , infertil e eggs . I have a penchan t fo r them , that's all . It amuses me to watch wome n i n Paris who behav e like me n an d me n wh o behav e lik e women . T o m e ther e i s no mor e ridiculou s sigh t than a false hermaphrodite. " They waited , nonplussed , thei r mouth s open . Mario n wa s already familia r wit h tha t attentiv e frow n whic h means , "Whatever i s that? " H e ha d see n i t o n man y differen t faces , each tim e h e felt lik e sowing unease . "Hmmph . . . ," Midalg e grunted , somewha t embarrasse d by th e ambiguou s attitud e thi s Mario n d e Valdeclar e wa s

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taking, sinc e the evenin g was bein g held i n his honor. Tryin g to smoot h thing s over , h e repeated , "He' s s o mysterious! " with a short laugh . "How ol d ar e you?" th e Argentinea n aske d wit h som e in solence. "The ag e whe n one' s voic e breaks , anyon e ca n hea r tha t . . . ," Mario n replied , lookin g hi m straigh t i n th e eye . "Sev enteen, if you like! " Midalge cu t i t shor t b y fillin g glasse s an d offerin g aroun d the biscuits . I n th e hubbu b tha t followed , th e smal l dark haired ma n wen t u p t o Marion . "I fee l tha t fro m tonigh t I shal l b e obsesse d wit h th e thought o f seein g yo u again, " h e whispered . "Yo u ar e a n extraordinary person , Mario n d e Valdeclare! " "Well, well, you've remembere d m y name . I do no t kno w yours." Midalge ben t ove r an d sai d i n a low secretiv e voice, "He' s already craz y abou t you . Don' t b e so cruel. " "And a m I crazy abou t him? " "Who ar e you craz y about , dear? " This the other s heard . "No one, " Mario n declare d ver y loudly . "You hav e time!" sai d Emilio . "You tak e m e fo r a young pup, sir . You ma y b e making a big mistake . Ther e is , i n an y case , a n expressio n whic h de scribes m e an d whic h ha s alread y bee n applie d t o me : I car e for n o on e an d nothing. " "In tha t case, " Totot e exclaimed , "wha t monstrou s cru elty to sho w you r fac e i n public! " "What a hit!" smirke d Midalge . But Emilio , jealou s o f th e smal l dark-haire d man , an d

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perhaps als o o f Totote , thre w ou t treacherously , "A t seven teen on e like s t o giv e onesel f airs . Perhap s th e myster y i s simply tha t Monsieu r d e Valdeclare i s still in hig h school? " "Him?" crie d Midalge . "Bu t h e know s everything , m y dear! He' s Pic o d e la Mirandola 2 himself . Why , on e o f m y friends sai d o f hi m t h a t . . . " Marion gre w impatient . "Let' s tal k abou t somethin g else ! Say, Midalge, tell us abou t you r lates t conquests! " Julien Midalg e pulle d a comic face . "He want s t o ad d t o hi s brood o f clea r yolks! " "Precisely." There wa s a rippl e o f laughter . T o mar k th e en d o f thi s irksome conversation , th e Argentinea n asked , "Wer e yo u a t the Conservator y o n Sunday? " "But o f course! " Midalg e enthuse d ecstatically . "Gauber t was sublime. " "I'd giv e al l th e concert s i n Pari s fo r on e mas s a t Saint Clothilde!" Totot e declared . "Tournemir e i s quit e marvel ous." Impassioned an d pedantic , the y talke d musi c with a serie s of "quit e monstrous! " an d "marvelous , marvelous, " a fe w "it ha s its quaint sides, " an d man y othe r technica l terms . Marion breathe d mor e easily . Paintin g woul d b e next , then literature , the n al l th e lates t gossip . Lyin g bac k o n the sofa , surrounde d b y gol d embroidere d cushions , h e fel t comfortable. Hi s pocket wa s ful l o f cigarettes ; he was warm . The familia r impressio n o f bein g invisibl e bega n t o invade . The chatte r o f othe r people' s voice s stoppe d hi m thinking . I t was almos t a s swee t a s nothingness , a kin d o f slee p illus trated b y huma n voice s an d gestures— a momen t o f oblivion.

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But th e smal l dark-haire d ma n kep t lookin g a t hi m i n silence, touchin g i n hi s mut e devotio n an d mesmerize d curi osity, a n adolescen t enthralle d b y th e beginnin g o f a nove l for whic h hi s imaginatio n alon e woul d pa y al l th e costs . Youth, illusion—the traged y o f youth . "Poor kid! " though t Marion . But neve r onc e di d h e besto w upo n hi s victi m hi s asexua l gaze. The gaz e of a n archangel . Midnight. Th e cigarette s filled the ai r with phantasm s whic h floated abov e their heads, the glasses glistened i n their hands , the ai r was balm y wit h th e scen t o f flowers . I n affected tone s which expressed , ami d th e lie s an d banter , th e occasiona l real feeling , th e gentleme n gathere d togethe r tha t evenin g had finally begu n t o tal k o f love .

[IV]

So the nameles s horro r o f m y childhoo d wa s a n eve n darke r story tha n th e eternal poiso n it s memory ha s left i n my soul . But could m y parents hav e behave d an y differently ? The martyrdo m I suffere d wa s onl y th e logica l conse quence o f thei r own . I have , unfortunately , spen t enoug h tim e i n th e compan y of tha t despicabl e clas s know n a s th e bourgeoisi e t o realiz e what m y parent s mus t hav e suffered , the y wh o considere d themselves fa r superio r t o th e middl e class : nobility , i n fact , and countr y noble s a t that ; feuda l lords , in short . An onl y so n t o b e th e prid e an d jo y o f thei r lives , t o continue thei r name—whic h wa s a fine one—an d tha t tha t son shoul d hav e bee n me ! My birth , whic h o f cours e n o on e eve r tol d m e about , 93

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must have been a scene of unprecedented drama , th e registra tion o f tha t birt h a masterpiec e o f deception , m y baptis m a lake of tear s choke d back . Too lat e di d I recogniz e m y mother' s genius . To o lat e unraveled th e clue s o f he r love , o r a t leas t th e pit y sh e ha d for me . It was sh e who foun d m y dual-purpos e name , just a s she foun d th e mean s t o hel p m e cros s th e formidabl e plain s of childhoo d withou t mysel f o r anyon e els e discovering wha t it was tha t mad e he r lowe r he r eyes , what i t was tha t pu t m e beyond th e pal e o f norma l humanity , destine d inexorabl y and a s though deservedl y t o sham e an d disgrace . Had m y fathe r no t bee n tha t ferociou s squir e feare d b y al l around, th e narro w jai l o f m y upbringin g migh t perhap s have bee n alleviate d i n som e way . Bu t tha t arrogant , judg mental ma n ha d th e bes t o f reason s t o hat e me . All he coul d do no t t o le t hi s cast e dow n wa s t o kee p i n chec k hi s contin ual desir e t o strangl e th e fairy-tal e monste r hi s unhappy wif e had brough t int o th e world . I still remembe r wit h a shudde r how h e use d t o com e an d loo k a t m e in m y littl e be d when I was sick . During th e firs t years , the hop e o f havin g anothe r child — a rea l son—mus t hav e helpe d hi m bea r hi s humiliation . Bu t one ha s t o understan d tha t whe n h e realize d h e would neve r have anothe r heir , an y indulgence , eve n th e simples t gestur e of tenderness , becam e a n offens e i n his eyes. I owe him som e gratitude fo r th e fac t tha t h e neve r bea t me , no r ha d m e beaten. A s a chil d I live d withi n hand' s reac h o f m y re pressed, would-b e murderer . Al l things considered , I have t o acknowledge tha t h e treated m e like a gentleman. M y educa tion wa s perfect . Sinc e m y min d wa s th e onl y par t o f m e which wa s no t agains t nature , a t leas t the y pulle d ou t al l th e

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stops t o cultivat e tha t ric h ground , eve n thoug h i t woul d yield n o result s beyon d myself , stricke n a s I wa s wit h ste rility. I think I can reconstruc t m y unfortunat e parents ' traged y pretty well . Thinkin g everythin g over , I hav e discovere d al l the secrets they kep t fro m me . My fathe r wa s handsome , fascinating , an d authoritaria n when h e me t m y mother . H e an d hi s brother , soldier s t o th e marrow both , playe d havo c with al l the young hearts in thei r garrison. Inevitably , the y were i n debt t o the eyebrows . Onl y a prestigiou s marriag e coul d sav e thei r goo d names , whic h were in grave jeopardy . From m y aunt' s endlessl y repeate d gossi p I go t al l th e details o f ho w the y bot h wante d he r fo r thei r wife , he r an d the million s fro m he r family' s ironworks . Whe n sh e chos e my uncle , ther e wa s a n irrevocabl e ruptur e betwee n th e brothers. They were never t o se e each othe r again . My father' s situatio n becam e critical . A s hi s creditor s be gan t o haras s hi m mor e an d mor e publicly , h e was in dange r of bein g thrown ou t o f th e army . It wa s a t tha t momen t tha t th e frai l littl e Englis h girl , daughter o f on e o f th e riches t coa l merchant s i n Newcastle , appeared o n th e horizon . Sh e fel l i n lov e wit h hi m a t firs t sight, even renouncing he r religio n s o she could marr y him . My grandparents , wh o die d befor e I was born , wer e stil l alive a t tha t point , livin g i n th e loathsom e chateau (sinc e bombed, than k God) , whic h no w belong s t o me . (Ho w fitting tha t I shoul d b e th e heir—o r th e heiress—o f a ruine d castle!) That poo r ol d couple , mortgage d t o th e hil t b y thei r sons , must hav e she d man y a tea r betwee n thos e wall s n o longe r

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standing, thos e wall s wher e I , thei r pitiabl e descendant , en dured m y long oppressive childhood . I wil l neve r kno w wha t ingeniou s lie s m y mothe r tol d s o she coul d renounc e he r Protestantis m an d ge t marrie d a s a Catholic withou t he r famil y guessin g sh e had repudiate d th e faith. Th e marriag e mus t hav e take n plac e ver y quietl y i n some obscur e corne r o f Pari s o r th e provinces . I only kno w that m y paterna l grandparent s di d everythin g the y coul d t o prevent it , outrage d tha t thei r eldes t so n shoul d marr y a foreigner, a n inveterat e Calvinis t whos e renunciatio n wa s a shameful mockery . Fo r i n m y family , religio n cam e befor e the famil y name , i t cam e eve n befor e money , whic h i s no t without it s own nobility , afte r all . Nevertheless, m y grandparents wer e craz y abou t thei r tw o sons an d nothin g coul d induc e the m t o disinheri t m y father . And no w I ca n revea l anothe r sid e o f th e drama . I a m certain tha t whe n I put i n my confounding appearanc e i n th e world, eac h o f m y parent s sa w m e a s th e jus t retributio n of thei r respectiv e Gods . Thei r fanaticis m mus t hav e bee n provoked beyon d measure , adde d t o thei r remors e an d re grets. I was th e ver y embodimen t o f th e curs e o f heaven , no t to mentio n m y unseeml y frailty . M y fathe r ha d neve r reall y loved m y mother . Afte r I came int o th e world, h e mus t hav e loathed her . Di d sh e still adore him ? I believe she did, simpl y remembering ho w sh e woul d blus h wit h embarrassmen t i n his presence. My poor littl e mother . . . How I regret never having love d her! That touchin g loyalt y stoppe d he r tellin g me even o f th e existence o f th e bible , whic h sh e evidentl y rea d ever y da y i n secret an d whic h I late r inherited . Althoug h sh e di d no t g o

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so far a s to mak e he r confessio n befor e sh e died, throughou t her lif e sh e endured th e presenc e o f th e pries t assigne d t o m e and sh e advised m e passionately t o go to the Jesuit Seminary . Her lov e fo r m y fathe r mad e divorc e impossibl e despit e hi s black mood s an d th e fac t tha t hi s frequen t trip s t o Paris , a s she knew , mean t no t visit s t o lawyer s a s h e claimed , bu t gambling an d women , thing s on e doe s not giv e up when on e has a certai n temperament , especiall y whe n one' s hom e i s nought bu t a perpetua l nightmare . Tha t suc h a husban d should giv e u p hi s militar y caree r t o g o an d bur y himsel f i n the norther n bee t field s was , i n he r eyes , doubtles s a mor e than sufficien t sacrifice . I, too, forgiv e m y fathe r hi s infidelities . H e ha d los t hope . Why shoul d h e inte r th e remain s o f hi s yout h i n ou r grisl y chateau? Tha t h e spen t par t o f hi s lif e ther e becaus e o f m e was alread y prett y commendable . His only real revenge was to send me to the Jesuits withou t telling m e anythin g abou t m y physica l peculiarity . No t dar ing t o thro w m e t o m y death , h e thre w m e t o lif e a s soo n a s he wa s fre e o f m y mother' s protectiv e presence . Ha d sh e been alive , sh e neve r woul d hav e le t m e leave , I a m abso lutely certain . Dying a s soon a s he rejoined hi s unit a t the front , h e neve r felt the need durin g hi s illness to cal l me to him one last time. His hatred mus t stil l have bee n strong . I think o f th e ironi c satisfactio n h e must hav e cherishe d i n his hear t a s a magnificen t reveng e throughou t th e tim e h e knew I wa s i n college , wher e h e coul d wel l imagin e th e method b y which m y young companions undertoo k t o let me know wha t kin d o f phenomeno n I was.

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Work days, the only days when I truly lived! I coul d say , "Wor k days , th e onl y day s whe n I di d no t suffer a fate wors e tha n death! " My brain , th e onl y reall y masculin e par t o f me , was con tinually avengin g m e fo r th e libertie s take n an d th e ill-treat ment mete d ou t b y m y fello w pupils . Alway s first i n ever y subject, I coul d justifiabl y respon d t o thei r torment s wit h that crushin g superiorit y whic h n o on e coul d deny . I fa r preferre d th e wors t o f thei r cruelt y t o th e sweetes t caress. Onl y Go d an d th e directo r wil l kno w al l th e compli cated detail s o f th e exploit s I provoke d a t college . The y ranged fro m th e coarses t practica l joke s to th e mos t passion ate rivalry . I don't kno w whethe r th e humiliation s I suffere d at that tim e were greater durin g th e day, when I was insulte d by th e laughte r o f th e class , o r a t night , whe n tw o fanati c admirers blacke d eac h other' s eye s over me . Certainly m y horro r o f physica l couplin g wa s bor n i n th e college dormitories . Doubtless , I shoul d than k destin y fo r having pu t m e of f sexualit y a t suc h a youn g age . Whethe r joy o r pain , i t comprise s th e mai n occupatio n o f me n an d women. I f al l th e Laurett e Well s an d al l th e Julien Midalge s whom I kno w no w kne w wha t I reall y am , on e lifetim e would no t suffic e t o cultivat e al l my perversities . Who knows ? Mayb e I woul d b e les s unhappy ? Shoul d I , after all , than k destiny ? Whe n I se e th e quiverin g interes t they al l tak e i n it , sometime s I regre t bein g onl y a brain ; that th e possibilitie s give n m e b y natur e don' t allo w m e to experienc e doubl y wha t seem s t o b e thei r onl y reaso n for breathing . Love, ho w I hat e you , instinc t o f normality , I wh o a m outside th e norm ! Ecce homo! Ecce mulier! 1 I n whicheve r

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direction m y love goes, I cannot avoi d bein g an invert . I have often envie d th e fa t nurs e wh o use d t o flirt wit h th e soldie r in th e park . I envied th e soldie r a s muc h a s I envied her . N o one wil l lov e m e an d accep t m y lov e a s thos e tw o lov e an d accept eac h other . Eac h tim e I thin k Love, I wil l hea r th e answer Vice. But wh y wa s I bor n wit h a hear t s o precis e whe n m y sex is so ambiguous ? At first m y sta y a t m y uncl e an d aunt' s reall y seeme d lik e i t would b e a n oasi s finally appearin g o n th e horizo n i n th e immense deser t o f m y childhood . I did no t kno w tha t i t wa s there th e suprem e indignit y awaited . I wa s i n mournin g fo r m y father , I ha d al l m y qualifica tions, degrees 2 a s w e sa y i n English : Wh y di d I have t o b e a wretched minor , entruste d b y th e la w int o th e hand s o f m y father's brother , m y enemy , th e onl y perso n i n th e famil y who wa s responsibl e fo r me ? Not havin g ha d an y children , h e an d hi s ric h wif e pre tended t o welcom e m e a s a blessing . Bu t th e directo r o f th e college ha d notifie d them , an d i n an y cas e m y perpetua l awkward ag e wa s already , a t th e ag e o f nineteen , beginnin g to give me away . My sli m girlis h figure, m y fragility , m y voic e whic h ha d not manage d t o becom e a man' s bu t whic h wa s n o longe r that o f a girl ; the y ha d al l th e proo f the y needed . Neverthe less, whe n I lef t colleg e the y foun d i t necessar y t o hav e m e examined b y a doctor . He declared , despit e wha t wa s writte n o n m y birt h certifi cate, tha t al l thing s considere d i t wa s bette r t o classif y m e among th e femal e sex . I will neve r forge t th e word s o f tha t

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doctor, pronounce d i n a scientifi c tone , wors e tha n al l th e jeers of m y classmates . "Unfortunate individual s lik e yoursel f ar e sometime s lucky enoug h t o gro w a beard , yo u understand . Bu t your s will never gro w an d tha t will , in the end, excite suspicion. So it is best t o mak e u p you r min d whil e ther e i s still time. Yo u are onl y ninetee n year s old , yo u ar e no t ye t know n i n th e world. Case s lik e your s ar e no t unhear d o f i n th e lega l do main. I t wil l b e eas y t o hav e you r statu s rectifie d a t th e nex t meeting o f th e medica l board. " My uncle rubbed hi s hands with joy . His bitterness towar d my fathe r ha d outlive d th e ma n himself . What a fine tric k h e would pla y o n hi s memory ! Tha t famou s so n o f who m h e had bee n s o jealous , withou t knowin g th e truth , h e wa s going t o mak e a girl o f him—an d a n ol d mai d a t that , sinc e I was unfi t fo r marriage . In vain di d I rebel. My Aun t d e Valdeclare too k charg e o f my wardrobe . Sh e was fa t an d bot h spineles s an d stubborn , crammed t o th e bri m wit h th e convention s an d prejudice s o f her kind . No t havin g an y choic e bu t t o kee p m e in her hom e till I cam e o f age , sh e too k i t upo n hersel f t o introduc e m e into he r domesti c arrangements , albei t wit h ver y ba d grace . Her husban d wa s al l fo r i t and , lik e m y mother , sh e wa s afraid o f he r husband . Seein g m e struggl e wit h m y feminin e attire amuse d hi m mor e tha n anythin g els e i n th e world . H e went s o fa r a s t o hav e someon e accompan y m e th e firs t few time s I wen t out , rejecte d an y garmen t whic h wa s no t exclusively feminine , too k a fanc y fo r gaud y dresse s an d stylish hats , ordere d m e t o le t m y hai r gro w an d mad e i t hi s duty t o presen t m e i n th e world . H e complaine d continuall y about m y incurabl e laryngitis . H e ha d retire d fro m th e arm y

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and wa s a t a loose end; I was his puppet. Th e enormous jok e provided hour s o f entertainment . I never sa w suc h fierce jo y as hi s th e da y h e wa s aske d fo r m y han d i n marriag e b y a young Maste r d e Forge s o f hi s acquaintance . I was believe d to b e rich, I was known t o have a law degree , and althoug h I looked to o strang e t o b e considere d charmin g i n th e kin d o f world I was entering , I could pas s fo r beautiful . My aunt' s hear t wa s divide d betwee n th e joy s o f avaric e and a tast e fo r empt y luxury . Th e thing s I saw amon g thos e people turne d m e emphaticall y towar d th e kin d o f lif e I live today. I might perhaps hav e considere d i t a blessing, for lac k of anythin g better , t o establis h mysel f o n th e sid e o f bour geois convention . Th e horror s I witnesse d clos e u p fo r tw o years, whil e I wa s a t m y uncl e an d aunt's , gav e m e a tast e for socia l outlaws , I who shoul d hav e sough t onl y t o avoi d them, bein g outside th e law myself . My first attempts a t revolt quietened dow n into the desola tion o f permanen t demoralization . I di d no t ye t realiz e tha t by m y doubl e natur e I would becom e a kin d o f Asmodeus 3 for who m lif e ha s a t leas t th e attractio n o f a spectacl e com plete in all its details, details which ar e kept well hidden fro m those wh o canno t penetrat e thei r mysterie s a s a n unsus pected spy , as I could. Learning t o b e a girl was, henceforth, a s important fo r m e as all the preparations fo r th e baccalaureate Meanwhile, I continue d t o stud y law . I ha d th e luck , i n my misfortune , t o b e bor n a t a tim e o f sexua l confusion . How woul d I manag e no w i f custo m an d fashio n didn' t constantly hel p m e pas s fro m on e personalit y t o anothe r without anyon e noticing , no t eve n th e concierge s i n m y tw o dwellings?

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At twenty-tw o I wa s abl e t o leav e m y guardia n an d hi s wife fro m on e da y t o th e nex t t o develo p i n povert y (ho w I loved tha t poverty! ) unti l th e da y I discovered th e scoundrel s for who m I no w work . I didn' t dar e resum e m y masculin e garb unti l muc h later . Keeping m y nam e wa s th e bes t tric k I coul d pla y o n tha t awful coupl e wh o fo r tw o year s amuse d themselve s s o cru elly a t m y expense , addin g unprecedente d sufferin g t o tha t which ha d alread y bee n heape d upo n m e sinc e birth . The y will neve r dar e t o giv e m e away . The y woul d hav e t o admi t the chang e m y uncl e insiste d on , an d Go d know s wher e tha t whole thin g woul d lea d them . Moreover , I mov e i n circle s that hav e never hear d o f them . I played othe r trick s o n them , whic h the y will learn o f on e day, i f I decide t o mak e m y ow n confession . M y aunt' s ric h friends, wit h al l thei r detectives , were neve r abl e t o pu t thei r hands o n th e mysteriou s fu r thie f whos e exploit s filled th e newspapers o f th e day . Sensual pleasure s ar e no t fo r me . I have , however , bee n acquainted wit h tha t o f skinnin g th e ric h dowager s whos e homes I was dragge d t o o r sen t b y force , a s a sulle n youn g lady t o b e marrie d off . Thei r magnificen t stoles , mufflers , sable tippets would disappea r a s though miraculously , an d i t would b e m y dangerou s pleasur e nex t da y t o hea r thei r shrieks a t bein g fleeced , an d t o read , i n th e corne r b y th e respectable famil y radiator , th e excite d musing s o f th e dail y papers. Who woul d hav e though t o f lookin g i n m y briefcas e crammed wit h studen t papers , i n th e antechamber s wher e I would dro p i t an d collec t i t agai n later ? Wh o wa s eve r discerning enoug h t o follo w m e an d se e wha t lonel y ban k I

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walked alon g a t nigh t an d wha t kin d o f packages , tie d u p with strin g an d weighte d dow n wit h bi g stones , I threw int o the dar k water s o f th e Sein e a t th e en d o f a winter' s day ? I regret tha t I wa s neve r abl e t o stea l thei r pearls . Bu t gol d snuff boxes , miniatures , an d othe r expensiv e knickknack s suffered fro m m y occasiona l bout s o f kleptomani a t o joi n all th e othe r transportabl e item s I' d bee n abl e t o flin g int o the Seine . When I spea k o f certai n things , o r gaz e a t peopl e wit h a certain loo k i n m y eyes , me n an d wome n alik e star e a t m e with th e sam e expressio n tempere d wit h a kind o f fear . The y are right . I would scar e the m eve n mor e i f the y kne w wha t I was thinkin g abou t sometimes . I ofte n ru n th e risk—an d this pleases me—th e ris k o f lettin g the m gues s what I am. If the y wer e t o find out , however , I woul d b e los t onc e again, whe n I hav e mor e o r les s foun d m y feet , establishe d an equilibrium , shak y bu t well-balanced , th e equilibriu m o f my paradoxical lif e in Paris where s o many peopl e know me : superficial Paris , alway s i n a hurry , wher e n o on e ha s th e time to g o deeply int o anything—luckil y fo r me . But all the same , how muc h tha t "unfortunat e individual " whose bear d wil l neve r gro w woul d lov e t o b e abl e t o g o t o bed som e nigh t withou t sighin g tha t littl e wor d fro m hi s early childhood ! It's s o sad: "Bobo , the stor y o f everything ! . . . "

[V]

"Finding a publisher," wha t a dreadful experience . Lik e tha t mob standin g i n th e rai n behin d th e bus . Th e peopl e wit h numbered seat s trie d t o ge t o n first, thei r face s declarin g implacably, "It' s m y right." Th e other s crep t aboard , hopin g to ge t o n unde r fals e pretense s a s the y elbowe d eac h othe r out o f th e way . "Myself, I don't giv e a damn, " though t Marion . " I neve r take a number. " Standing apar t fro m th e scrum , h e mused , "Ho w trul y splendid t o wor k unde r someon e else' s name . N o nee d fo r a number. M y book s ar e published , m y play s performed , I earn m y crus t an d n o on e bother s me. " While th e bu s wa s startin g up , h e climbe d calml y o n board, th e extr a passenge r clingin g t o th e platform , on e o f 105

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the littl e crow d o f peopl e standin g a t th e back , packe d to gether lik e those clump s o f huma n figures yo u se e sometime s on medieva l staine d glas s windows . An d soo n variation s on hi s them e wer e underscore d b y harmonie s compose d o f rhythms produce d b y the heavy vehicle . "My renunciatio n woul d b e asceti c i f I weren' t alon e i n the world . Bu t I have n o on e t o dazzle , fo r that' s wha t glor y is, th e abilit y t o dazzle , which i s pretty comica l sinc e n o on e ever trul y amaze s anyon e else . Whe n i t come s dow n t o it , people ar e reall y onl y intereste d i n themselves . I f th e audi ence wer e mad e u p o f Martians , the n maybe ! Bu t amon g human being s . . . " He li t a cigarett e an d continue d hi s meditations . Whe n visiting certain theatr e persons, it is a good ide a to remembe r certain things . Once, a fe w year s ago , alon e i n th e shadow s o f th e empt y auditorium, ha d h e not see n a famous autho r an d a n equall y famous acto r nearl y com e t o blow s durin g a rehearsal ! "Excuse me , friend , yo u ar e no t performin g thi s scen e i n the spiri t whic h I intended. I am, afte r all , the author! " The acto r crosse d hi s arm s an d calle d upo n hi s fello w tragedians a s witnesses , "Thi s man' s line s ar e completel y flat!" Another tim e a n acto r i n a mino r role , no t muc h mor e than a walk-o n part , whos e onl y busines s wa s t o say , "Madam i s served," coul d no t ge t the intonatio n right . "You hav e th e deliver y o f a pig," sai d th e others . "Don't yo u worry, " h e replied . " I sav e mysel f fo r th e dress rehearsal. " And everyon e know s Constan t Coquelin' s respons e whe n he had t o wear a false nos e to pla y Napoleon . "I'll mak e somethin g o f it. "

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Knowing exactl y wha t angl e t o tak e o n lif e a s soon a s he se t foot insid e Ginett e Lobre' s house , Mario n pulle d th e bel l cord wit h th e require d attitude . Realit y wa s n o longe r a t issue. In the long run mos t actors stop being bona fide human beings, a s thoug h thei r role s ha d take n the m ove r lik e seve n demons. A t on e moment , the y ac t th e par t o f demigods ; th e next, lous y ham s wh o woul d hav e bee n beate n wit h cudgel s in forme r days . I n orde r t o understan d them , withou t errin g too fa r i n on e directio n o r another , on e shoul d conside r them "ingenuous, " whic h explain s thei r finest qualitie s an d excuses their worst . It would obviousl y b e hard t o liv e the mos t intens e part o f one's life throug h a pair o f oper a glasse s without eve r seeing , even in one's private life, from th e "stag e perspective," whic h is no mor e tha n a magnifyin g glas s afte r all . The importanc e actors assum e i s no t muc h greate r tha n tha t whic h i s right fully theirs , sinc e the y ar e th e fles h an d bone s o f a multiplic ity o f abstraction s that , thoug h the y hav e no t sprun g fro m their minds , mus t nevertheles s b e embodie d b y thei r voic e and gesture s befor e reachin g th e public . The y ar e th e me dium, literally , betwee n th e creato r an d hi s audience. Conse quently the y ru n mor e risk s tha n th e creator , wh o give s onl y of his mind, whil e the y giv e of thei r whol e being . To g o bac k an d fort h endlessl y betwee n th e stag e an d th e wings i s t o alternat e betwee n th e pures t o f ideal s an d th e darkest o f dail y life . Thi s continua l seesa w almos t alway s starts u p agai n onc e th e livin g puppet ha s gon e bac k int o it s box an d th e play i s over . From th e entranc e hal l Mario n coul d alread y hea r th e overl y enunciated exclamation s o f th e me n an d wome n h e ha d come to see .

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Ginette Lobre , th e grea t sta r o f th e Planches modernes, had a mansio n tha t on e entere d vi a a stee p staircas e leadin g down t o th e bea r pi t sh e was s o proud of , whic h constitute d her mai n sittin g room . Visitors coul d b e see n fro m belo w a s the y arrive d and , from on e ste p t o another , coul d creat e an y effec t the y pleased. A series of odd littl e rooms radiate d ou t fro m th e immens e hall, thei r lo w ceiling s a star k contras t t o th e dom e i n th e middle. Al l th e furnishing s wer e a mixtur e o f ancient , mod ern, an d exotic ; Louis XVI an d Directoir e blende d wit h Chi nese lacque r an d creation s dreame d u p b y th e boldes t o f contemporary designer s t o avoi d an y hin t o f th e "antiquit y corners" o f contemporar y departmen t stores . The tast e o f th e star s i s unerrin g nowadays . A t Ginett e Lobre's on e coul d fanc y onesel f i n th e hom e o f a Duches s surrounded b y portrait s o f he r ancestors , famil y furniture , foreign souvenirs , and her latest whimsy, but the illusion wa s broken b y th e abundan t flowe r baskets , th e incens e floatin g in the air, the fashionabl e littl e yap dog , the first name s bein g bandied about , th e lo w diva n unde r th e ros e colore d lights , and especiall y b y the ladies—fiv e o r si x of them—formin g a harem o n th e cushion s o f th e divan , thei r back s t o th e wall , lying stretche d ou t nex t t o eac h other , a Spanis h shaw l ove r their knee s a s a blanket . The me n ar e scattere d abou t her e an d there , opposit e this centra l core , whereve r the y ca n find th e armchair s an d footstools lef t t o them . "My dea r girl " an d "Wha t ho , ol d man! " provid e th e conversational commas . Th e accepte d styl e i s t o appea r good-natured, eve n t o th e exten t o f seemin g gauche , whic h

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in n o wa y impede s th e lo w rumbl e o f backbiting , jus t lik e anywhere else—eve n les s than elsewhere . Marion though t h e wa s simpl y comin g t o mee t th e ma n whose nam e appeare d o n th e pla y h e himsel f ha d writte n almost entirely , abou t som e change s Ginett e ha d aske d for . He wen t dow n th e stair s t o th e bea r pi t i n a ba d mood . Tonight, a s always , h e woul d figure a s n o mor e tha n a kin d of secretary , muc h needed , bu t stil l onl y a secretary. H e wa s not please d t o find himsel f i n th e middl e o f th e littl e recep tion. Th e grou p etho s required , however , tha t h e b e greete d with grea t effusions . "Oh, look , it' s Mario! " "Hello there , Mario! " Ginette rushe d ove r t o hu g him . Masculin e hand s wer e held out . "My littl e Mario ! Ho w ar e yo u doing ? . . . I thin k yo u know everyon e here ! Not tha t i t matters ! You'l l mee t the m now! This is Mario!" Those wh o ha d neve r see n hi m befor e wer e amaze d an d craned thei r neck s to see . "Goodness!" the y sai d t o themselves , believing themselve s transfixed. Th e women , swee t an d quit e indifferent , curle d up agains t eac h other , wit h girlis h gesture s an d excessiv e make-up, o f indeterminat e ag e sinc e ther e wa s n o authenti c thirty-year-old fac e wit h whic h t o mak e a comparison. Thei r short hai r wa s eithe r curle d o r plastere d dow n o n thei r fore heads bu t uniforml y dye d o r hennaed ; thei r neck s were bare ; their dresse s create d b y to p designers , thei r jewel s o f grea t price. They wer e makin g quit e a racket o n thei r divan . "Ninon, you'r e takin g u p al l the room! " "Oh, yo u wretch ! You're pushin g m e off! "

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"I say , old chap , that hur t yo u know. " A journalist too k advantag e o f thi s childis h quarre l t o ge t his hands o n thei r arm s an d legs . "I'll mak e yo u comfortable ! There ! . . . Like that everyon e has room. " "Now Ginett e wil l recit e for us! " "Go on , Ginette! " Fabric e Maugier , th e grea t actor , called out . Ginette would not . "Why don' t yo u recite , dear friend! " "You kno w ver y wel l I neve r recit e excep t o n stage , m y dear!" Chorus: "Yes , yes . . . Make hi m recite! " "Verlaine!" "No! Baudelaire! " "No! The Countes s d e Noailles!" "I say , old chap , you're no t goin g to mak e u s beg! " He shoo k hi s head . Ginett e wa s practicall y sittin g i n hi s lap. "Recite fo r us! " "Ginette, m y dear , yo u hav e neve r looke d s o beautiful . What eyes ! Have yo u see n he r eyes? " "Just lik e Semiramis! " declare d a flamboyan t redhea d who ha d n o ide a wh o tha t quee n was . "I say , ol d chap , I thin k yo u shoul d tal k abou t me ! Yo u are so magnificent. Isn' t sh e magnificent? " "Magnificent," echoe d th e whole divan . "She'll recit e for us, " th e journalist announced . "Yes! Y e s ! . .. Goo d idea! " But two maid s brough t i n tea o n trays . "Who'll b e mother?" Ginett e aske d i n the din . No on e answered .

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While sh e poured th e tea, Marion cam e up t o her . "Well? . . . Wha t abou t th e play ? . . . Th e autho r isn' t here? . . . I find a tea part y i n his place? " "Oh, m y dear , that's right ! We forgot t o tel l you. He' s no t coming toda y becaus e . . . " "I want som e o f thos e cake s ove r there! " "Ginette, sugar! " "Mario, giv e me one o f your cigarettes. " "Who'll recit e fo r us , then?" "Have yo u hear d Tholomas' s latest? " "No! Do tell ! Do tell! " While maliciou s gossi p sprea d throug h th e roo m i n th e thin smok e o f th e cigarettes , Marion , standin g quit e apart , watched a s a n awkward , inelegan t youn g ma n wh o ha d no t yet sai d a wor d cam e timidl y towar d him , clutchin g hi s te a cup clumsily . "Monsieur," h e sai d softly , " I understan d fro m wha t yo u were jus t sayin g t o Madam e Lobr e tha t yo u collaborate d o n a pla y sh e i s rehearsin g . . . Wel l . . . I' m no t a t al l u p o n things . . . I come fro m th e province s . . . Everyone tell s me I have talen t . . . I'v e writte n a three-ac t pla y . . . M y manu script keep s bein g sen t bac k t o me , when i t i s sen t back ! . . . I mean , i t keep s bein g rejected . Sometime s peopl e invit e m e to things , like today, I don't kno w wh y . . . Well . . . I assur e you, I have t a l e n t . . . " "Talent?" Standing i n th e doorfram e o f on e o f th e littl e rooms , Marion dran k hi s te a thinkin g tha t prett y soo n h e woul d be off . "You thin k i t helps , havin g talent , whe n you'r e tryin g t o get your play s performed? " "What?" sai d th e other , droppin g hi s spoon .

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"To ge t performed i n Paris , at leas t o n th e Planches modernes, if you don' t alread y have a name, you need two things . Do you hav e them? " "What things? " Marion pu t dow n hi s empty cu p an d li t a cigarette . "Money an d a whore. " Laughter a t th e Tholomas' s stor y covere d everything . Marion turne d o n hi s heels. "Where ar e you going , Mario? " Ginette caugh t u p with hi m a t the bottom o f th e stairs . "Oh, m y dear , yo u can' t leav e befor e I'v e ha d tim e to tal k to you. A marvelous schem e with . . . " "Ginette, recit e fo r us! " "Say, let Marion recit e fo r you! " Amidst th e grea t jeer s o f laughte r provoke d b y thes e words, Fabrice Maugier thre w himself o n Ginette so he could carry he r of f b y forc e t o fac e he r public . Sh e responde d b y slapping his hands. They fough t wit h eac h othe r whil e a t th e same tim e kissin g eac h othe r o n th e mouth . Marion , shove d aside in the fray , foun d himsel f nex t t o th e sh y young man . "By the way, Monsieur, d o you know what ' a scheme' is?" "No . . . ," h e replied, wide-eyed . "Well, yo u nee d t o kno w tha t befor e yo u wast e tim e writing plays . It' s th e ar t o f theatr e nowadays . Withou t a scheme yo u ar e n o mor e tha n th e blood y author—i n othe r words, you're nothing. " At th e othe r en d o f th e hal l a voic e straigh t ou t o f th e conservatory pierce d th e henhouse cackle . "Ginette ha s alway s bee n a great idealist! " Marion ha d pricke d u p his ears. "Educate yourself , Monsieur ! Yo u nee d onl y liste n t o

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what peopl e say . On e learn s theatr e wor k a s on e woul d a foreign languag e taugh t b y th e Berlit z method . Ginett e th e idealist, translates a s not one, not two, not three , but a whole syndicate o f usefu l lovers . Ove r i n ou r corner , yo u an d I ar e the superfluous ingredient s a t this reception; no one will even notice we're listening. " "But Monsieu r . . . ," th e young ma n murmured . Ginette's voice , suddenl y authoritative , asserted , " A goo d play? Believ e yo u me ! The maximu m ever y night ! Yesterda y we made twelve thousand! " "There yo u hav e theatrica l criticism , Monsieu r . . . ," Marion wen t o n coldly . Without eve n botherin g t o kee p hi s voic e down , "On e cannot attac h th e sam e meanin g t o th e wor d 'play ' a s di d our worth y predecessors . Theatr e today , yo u understand — except o f cours e fo r th e exceptio n whic h prove s th e rule—i s a branch o f th e Stock Exchange. If you want your percentag e back, you hav e to inves t a little beforehand, don' t you? " "Are yo u tryin g t o tel l m e that , a s a n author , mor e i s required o f m e than m y play?" "Unless yo u collaborat e wit h a well-know n name , who'l l take al l the glory fo r himself , without havin g written a singl e word, naturall y . . . i f you'r e luck y enoug h tha t you r nam e doesn't ge t droppe d e n route ! Tak e i t o r leav e it . Scheme , Monsieur, scheme . That's th e motto o f ou r er a i n every field. Sometimes a good cas t o f th e net picks up the whole shoa l of rotten fish 1 i n one go . But that onl y happen s i n banking. " "You're ver y demoralizing , Monsieur! " "Keep you r illusions , Monsieur ! I ask nothin g better . Bu t you'll kee p your pla y alon g with them. " "Monsieur . . . Won't yo u rea d i t for me? "

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Marion swallowe d bac k hi s laug h a s soo n a s i t cam e ou t with tha t terribl e hiccupin g sound . Th e youn g ma n steppe d back, n o doub t startled , n o doub t offended , n o doub t trans fixed b y thi s youn g pu p wit h th e eunuch' s voice , wh o wa s nothing mor e tha n a peevish littl e failure. A moment late r h e had gone , his absenc e n o mor e noticeabl e tha n hi s presence. Marion cam e bac k an d sa t dow n o n th e sid e b y th e divan . He examine d th e wome n wit h th e attentiv e scrutin y o f a former kleptomaniac . No . H e ha d n o desir e t o ro b them . They wer e wha t the y wer e withou t shame , an d thei r live s were mad e u p o f struggle s o f al l kinds , al l kind s o f courage . They wer e wel l acquainte d wit h hard , conscientiou s work , simple goo d heartedness , an d eve n a certai n lyricism . Th e magnifying glas s woul d sho w othe r thing s beside s vanity , venality, wigs , an d fals e noses . I t woul d se e th e birt h an d development o f man y talents , sometimes eve n of genius . "When on e i s par t o f a commercia l enterprise, " h e con cluded, "it' s a fine thing to trad e i n wild fancies . O n stag e al l these people expres s a genuinely-felt emotion. " "Recite som e poetry fo r us! " It wa s n o longe r possibl e eve n t o tel l wh o wa s bein g ad dressed. Marion fel t a touch o n hi s arm . "I say, " whispere d th e journalist , "I t seem s yo u kno w Laurette Wells, eh?" He gav e a lewd wink . "Will you tak e m e there som e day? " Marion di d no t eve n ba t a n eyeli d a s h e replied , "I' m afraid you'r e mistaken , m y friend . I don't kno w her. "

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" O h ? . . . Wha t a pity! " The littl e do g yapped , addin g t o th e racket . A new arriva l appeared a t th e to p o f th e stairs , mad e a gracefu l descent , hugged everybody , calle d everyon e "tu, " an d too k he r plac e on th e divan . Ye t agai n Mario n hear d voice s demandin g from th e wings , "Who'l l recit e fo r us? " an d withou t anyon e making a mov e t o detai n him , eve n Ginette , wh o ha d suc h an importan t matte r t o discuss , h e wen t of f withou t sayin g goodbye. It wa s stil l raining . Behin d th e bu s th e littl e scuffl e wa s starting again . Mario n muse d t o himsel f tha t th e wor d "foule" (crowd ) wa s trul y th e feminin e o f "fou " (mad) 2 an d decided t o tak e a taxi . H e nodde d t o himsel f behin d th e rattling ca b window , "A t Laurette' s o r Midalge' s house , on e talks art, music, even love with respec t and ceremony. Beaut y and mone y ar e neve r discusse d i n th e sam e sentence . Fo r dirty perverts , the y ar e decidedl y clean-minded . Whil e tha t other fellow , tha t journalist, wh o look s like a traveling salesman o n a spree , imagine d Laurette' s hom e t o b e a hous e o f ill repute. I'd lik e to se e him a t on e o f he r salons , attendin g a string quarte t o r force d t o liste n t o th e poetr y readin g thes e professionals hav e bee n unabl e t o put on! " His sick laugh mad e him ill . A thought struc k him . Knock ing o n th e windo w i n front , Mario n quickl y gav e th e drive r a ne w address .

[VI]

A littl e res t afte r week s o f work , that' s wha t Mario n wa s looking fo r i n he r apartmen t i n th e 16th . N o wor k i n prog ress la y waitin g t o temp t he r mal e an d femal e imagination . There wer e n o rea l book s there , n o pile s o f papers , n o wor k table callin g to her . The delicat e secretair e i n the living roo m was onl y goo d fo r writin g a letter o r two . Her e i t would no t have bee n fittin g t o contemplat e mor e tha n puttin g flower s in vases, reading th e lates t novel s t o kee p onesel f u p t o date , writing ou t th e lis t o f feminin e purchase s t o b e mad e i n th e shops, dreamin g abou t a ne w suit , shoes , sil k stockings , going fo r a stroll , warmin g onesel f upo n one' s retur n fro m shopping, planning a visit to Laurett e . . . Oddly enough , whil e sh e wa s lookin g ove r he r apart ment—small livin g room , bedroom , kitchen—Mis s Hervi n 117

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discovered a lette r fro m Laurett e o n he r secretaire , sur rounded b y a pil e o f handbills . A s usual , Laurett e ha d no t failed t o write the most importan t par t o f her messag e on th e envelope, "Bette r mak e i t Thursda y fo r lunch , a t m y house , with Janin e an d tw o othe r wome n wh o ar e comin g ove r specially t o mee t you. " "Oh terrific ! . . . " th e breakin g voic e grumbled . "Today' s Friday." Marion unseale d th e envelop e an d spen t five minute s try ing t o understan d bot h th e handwritin g an d th e impor t o f the letter , i n whic h everythin g double d bac k an d contra dicted itself . A s always , sh e ende d u p abandonin g th e craz y little note . N o explanation , eithe r writte n o r verbal , woul d follow moreover . Laurett e neve r seriousl y believe d i n th e rendez-vous sh e set up . Miss Hervi n sighed . Sh e took ou t a cigarette an d filled her inner emptines s wit h ne w spiri t a s sh e inhale d th e zigzag s of smoke. A n unreliabl e companionship , tha t danc e o f th e ge nies of th e air . Cushions scattere d o n th e little sofa, som e silk, some gold , a rathe r fine rug , som e famil y furniture , a bookcas e lade n with hand-sew n books : Thi s littl e noo k a t th e to p o f th e characterless moder n hous e wa s welcomin g an d wel l put together. Th e electricit y gav e a steady , cheerfu l light , th e radiators warme d th e room , an d behin d th e close d velve t curtains th e window s looke d ou t ont o a nea t courtyar d an d a row o f rooftop s beyon d which on e could se e as far a s Passy and eve n a few trees . Miss Hervi n stretche d ou t o n he r sof a th e bette r t o savo r the cigarett e i n th e ligh t o f th e lo w lamp , th e onl y on e

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she'd lef t on . A distan t hu m rolle d lik e a wav e ove r Paris , ceaseless, oceanic . Forcing onesel f no t t o thin k woul d hav e bee n a n impossi ble tas k withou t a cigarette , tha t all-purpos e goo d fairy . Fo r smoking provide s assistanc e i n ever y circumstanc e o f life . I f one i s alone, on e i s less alone ; i f on e i s in cheerfu l company , one i s mor e cheerfu l yet ; i f on e i s bore d wit h people , on e i s not s o bored; i f one is searching fo r ideas , one finds them th e more easily ; if on e i s waiting, if one is anxious, if one is idle, if on e i s working , a cigarette , tha t intoxicant , tha t habit , i s indispensable. I t ha s neithe r th e sam e tast e no r th e sam e significance, bu t varie s accordin g t o place , mood , an d mo ment. Thi s vice , whic h seem s s o monotonou s t o others , i s perhaps th e most varied ther e is. "To b e abl e t o smok e whe n on e wants, " Mario n mused , "is a smal l enoug h pleasure , bu t no t t o smok e woul d b e a great misfortune . Whe n on e look s closely , on e i s no t reall y sure on e like s tha t bitternes s i n th e mouth , bu t on e know s i t would b e unbearabl e t o d o withou t it . D o w e no t judg e th e importance o f a thing , an d eve n o f a n emotion , mos t o f al l by its lack?" As a sleepe r slip s unconsciousl y int o a dream , Mis s Her vin, withou t noticing , wa s slippin g bac k int o he r habitua l sadness. Th e poo r sou l wa s thinkin g tha t i n he r solitar y existence, a n anima l woul d hav e brough t comfort . Bu t a ca t would spen d lon g day s uncare d fo r i n th e empt y apartment , a do g coul d no t b e bot h Marion' s companio n and , a t th e same time , Mario's . Tha t woul d inevitabl y giv e th e secre t away. "So it' s precisel y becaus e I am tw o tha t I must alway s b e

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a woman alone , or a man alone . Why, why didn't m y mothe r follow th e instinct o f her womb t o its rightful conclusio n an d make m e th e bo y an d gir l I shoul d hav e been ? Ho w w e would hav e love d eac h other ! Telescoped on e int o th e other , we are too man y fo r a single being, or rather , w e are nothin g at a l l . . . " She tried t o fee l he r twi n a t he r side—th e phanto m o f he r childhood. Bu t now sh e knew an d th e fantasy wa s over . She straightene d u p t o lea n o n he r elbows , flattening th e thin bus t whic h fro m th e first glanc e labele d he r English . A second cigarett e accompanie d he r thought . "Supposing I ha d a wea k heart , I coul d di e o n thi s sofa , just lik e tha t . . . Madam e Creponnet , th e concierge , woul d be extremel y alarme d whe n sh e climbed th e stair s soo n afte r to prepar e dinner ; the n sh e woul d b e extremel y pu t out . A s for me , i t woul d b e a s thoug h everyon e wer e dea d sinc e I would n o longe r e x i s t . . . " The lon g han d stretche d ou t alon g th e chee k whic h cra dled it . "Isn't i t alread y a s thoug h everyon e els e wer e dead , eve r since m y birth , sinc e I' m no t huma n a s other s are ? I love n o one, hav e neve r love d anyone , will probabl y neve r lov e any one. Nothin g wil l mak e m e believ e I have th e righ t eve n t o love a n animal . Whe n I die , m y deat h wil l b e a catastroph e for mysel f alone , i f on e believe s deat h i s a catastrophe . I f someone love d me , I woul d fee l responsibl e fo r th e beatin g of anothe r heart , an d the n I woul d b e preciou s i n m y ow n eyes, an d I woul d defen d mysel f agains t death . Bu t n o on e needs m e emotionally . I a m th e cente r o f n o magnificen t egotism. And becaus e no one would cr y if I died, I sometimes cry fo r myself , the onl y mournin g ther e will b e for me. "

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Dwelling o n suc h thought s take s u p mor e tim e tha n on e thinks. Whe n th e cigarett e wa s finished, th e thi n fingers threw wha t wa s lef t i n th e ashtray , the n lingere d a whil e suspended i n empt y space . Th e pupil s gre w larger , blu e an d bathed i n shadow . "Will n o on e eve r come? " "It's me , Mam'zelle Hervin! " th e concierge crie d ou t com ically a s she came i n through th e kitchen . "Oh, i s that you , Madam e Creponnet? " Marion's laughte r wa s smothere d i n a corne r o f th e cush ion, i n th e exac t spo t wher e he r sob s wer e t o hav e bee n muffled. She had ha d t o remai n Mis s Hervi n unti l th e en d o f th e la w examination, whic h she' d starte d i n a frock , the n rever t t o young Valdeclar e i n orde r t o collaborat e anonymousl y wit h famous author s o n th e wane . B y disappearing fro m feminin ity, Mario n ri d hersel f o f severa l flirt s wh o ha d bee n edgin g too clos e t o he r threadbar e secretar y skirts . Nowaday s thi s alternative wa s usefu l i n he r lif e spen t fleeing th e world , and helpe d he r gai n entr y int o th e onl y socia l se t whic h interested her . Friendly feeling s fo r Laurett e warme d he r hear t a littl e a s she returned t o th e sof a afte r dinner . "I'll g o and se e her tomorro w . . . ," sh e decided . And, t o pu t a n en d t o he r effort s a t readin g he r ow n destiny, sh e dive d halfheartedl y int o th e lates t insipi d nove l "hot of f th e press. " Laurette ha d no t ye t gon e ou t an d appeare d charme d b y th e visit. Sh e was wearin g boot s unde r he r suit , bu t nevertheles s

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complained o f havin g col d feet . Afte r a whil e sh e bega n t o pace th e room , he r bac k eve n straighte r tha n usual , he r eyes stern . "Marion," sh e said , "sinc e you'r e here , yo u wil l hav e t o help me. " "Most flattered b y you r confidence , Laurette ! How ma y I be of service? " "One o f th e girl s wh o cam e t o lunc h o n Thursda y occa sionally visit s wit h Aime e d e Lagres , the on e I made divorc e her husband. " "Oh yes ! . . . and who m yo u lef t fou r month s later? " "Yes, Marion . I t seem s sh e i s consolin g hersel f wit h th e old Countes s Talliard , an d tha t I canno t bear . Sh e mus t b e torn fre e fro m th e clutche s o f tha t bana l giraffe . Sh e dishon ors me . I cannot accep t suc h a successor. " "But what i f she' s happy? " "Happiness i s o f n o consequence . I prefe r t o tak e he r back." "It will mean certai n heartach e fo r her. " "Marion, sh e i s worth y o f bein g mad e t o suffer . Sh e i s a very rar e littl e creature . An d he r ankle s ar e a s slende r a s a doe's, an d suc h beautifu l hands ! And melanchol y eye s with a little pursed mouth . Suc h a pretty thin g . . . " "In a word, yo u mis s her! " Laurette stoppe d he r pacing . "I woul d lik e he r t o hav e someon e lik e you . Bu t I kno w how you ar e . . . " "So you're sacrificin g yourself. " Laurette sa t dow n s o sh e coul d giv e ful l ven t t o laughter . Hers wa s th e laug h o f a fourteen-year-ol d girl . The n sh e gazed a t Mario n wit h th e loo k sh e ha d whe n someon e sa w

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through her , sham e an d complicit y both . He r listles s voic e spoke hurriedly , he r eye s looked away , embarrasse d t o sho w their animation . "Since you'v e me t he r severa l time s a t m y hous e i t wil l seem perfectly natura l fo r yo u t o g o and se e her. You ca n sa y you've com e t o intervie w her. " Marion bi t bac k he r mirth . "But fo r on e thing , I' m n o longe r a journalist , an d fo r another, sh e hasn' t don e anythin g worth y o f a n interview . She's jus t anothe r societ y woma n amon g s o man y thousan d others." "Can on e not intervie w whomeve r on e likes? " "No, yo u sill y goose, one cannot. " "Oh well , you'l l thin k o f somethin g else . You'l l hav e t o arrange t o b e alon e wit h her , fo r ol d Talliar d wil l no t leav e her side , an d you'l l tel l he r I stil l lov e her , whic h i s true . I can't d o a thin g mysel f becaus e Talliar d hate s me . I' d als o like yo u t o tak e he r twenty-fou r re d rose s an d twelv e aru m lilies, which I'l l giv e you. " "That'll b e sure to make an impression o n the household! " "Marion, yo u mus t d o it . I' m ver y cros s wit h tha t youn g lady. Sh e refuse s t o se e m e unde r an y circumstanc e an d I want he r t o com e bac k t o me. " Miss Hervi n watche d th e sligh t tremo r whic h shoo k Laurette's head . "You've go t you r captain' s fac e on , th e da y o f th e mutin y on ship . Not a good sign. " "Not goo d a t all, " Laurett e replie d somberly . "But you r battl e pla n i s simpl y absurd . Wh y don' t yo u send tha t othe r gir l wh o see s Aime e d e Lagre s fro m tim e to time? "

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A short scornfu l laug h accompanie d Laurette' s shrug . "She woul d spoi l everything . She' s a n idiot . You'r e th e only on e who coul d d o i t successfully. " "I'll b e happ y t o try , bu t no t th e wa y yo u suggest . Th e interview, th e red roses, the aru m lilies , that's al l idle fancy. " "Fine, Marion . I'l l tak e th e flower s t o he r mysel f then . She'll know where they came from. The y were her favorites. " It was Marion' s tur n t o shrug . "The complication s o f you r idl e live s amus e me . Yo u make u p littl e storie s fo r yourselves , yo u mak e a to y o f love. At heart you'r e jus t a bunch o f schoolgirls—dangerou s schoolgirls, moreover, becaus e somewhere i n all this is a man who love d hi s wif e an d wh o ha s los t her , a woma n quietl y living her lif e no w launche d o n illici t affairs. " "It was before tha t sh e was illicit. " Laurette's murmu r wa s almos t imperceptible . Sh e nearl y always spok e fo r hersel f withou t carin g whether anyon e els e heard o r not . Sh e bega n t o pac e abou t th e roo m agai n an d gazed ou t th e windows . "Yes, I know, " sai d Marion . "Yo u hav e t o g o out . Goodbye." "Come with me , Marion. The carriage will take you wher ever yo u wan t afterwards . I' m jus t goin g ove r t o Margare t Watson's." "Another ne w conquest? " "So pale with tha t re d hai r . . . ," Laurett e muse d alou d a s she rang fo r he r chambermaid , "an d stil l doesn't kno w i f sh e wants t o . . . "

[VII]

"Now her e I a m caugh t u p i n othe r people' s immorality, " Miss Hervi n sai d t o hersel f whe n sh e got bac k home . "Wha t a fine pursuit fo r m y little vacation! " Elbow o n knee , chi n i n hand , cigarett e i n mouth , sh e amused hersel f thinkin g u p way s t o approac h Madam e d e Lagres unti l i t wa s tim e fo r bed . "No t tha t i t wil l d o an y good," sh e decided , bu t i t wa s mor e fu n tha n readin g a novel. She shoul d hav e bee n passionat e abou t th e cause , loath e the countess-giraffe , imagin e tha t bringin g th e escape e bac k into th e gras p o f Laurette' s pin k fingernails wa s a nobl e ac t of liberation . Mayb e the n inspiratio n woul d hav e descende d to point ou t th e righ t path t o follow . What pretex t shoul d sh e invent ? 125

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Sleep came befor e inspiration . "To slee p . . . like everyon e else . Al l nigh t lon g t o b e lik e any othe r bein g . . . Wha t a pit y tha t i t take s plac e i n th e unconscious." On th e pillow , i n tha t ivor y profile , a n ey e remained ope n a lon g time, a blue ey e in it s delicat e cavern , th e settin g fo r a beautiful preciou s stone . Th e desolat e mout h trie d t o smile . The hair , a dishevele d helmet , snake d ove r th e whit e line n like a band o f littl e reptiles . One finds miracle s i n th e mos t bana l o f sayings , a s lon g a s one does not hav e t o put i t to th e test oneself . "Night bring s counsel , how tru e that is! " Marion wa s stil l chewing th e matte r ove r a s sh e mad e he r toilette . Lik e a scen e i n a play , withou t rackin g he r brai n an y further , she ha d foun d th e onl y wa y t o gai n entr y t o th e Countes s Talliard's house . Whe n sh e wok e up , th e pla n ha d mad e itself. For th e nex t tw o days , a s sh e strolle d alon g th e loca l streets, o r whil e sh e wa s ou t shopping , sh e polishe d of f th e fine point s o f he r plan . A n ol d habi t o f th e dramatist . Bu t how muc h mor e breathtakin g i t i s t o liv e ou t a dram a tha n to write one ! On th e thir d day , growin g impatient , sh e pai d a mornin g call a t Laurette' s s o a s t o b e sur e no t t o mis s her . I t wa s hardly the customary thin g to do, but she was sure she would be welcome al l the same . Once she' d crosse d th e col d Neuill y garden , sh e had bu t a moment t o wait i n the bi g downstairs livin g room . "Would Mademoisell e lik e to ste p upstairs? " The pedicuris t wa s sittin g a t th e bedside , holdin g on e o f

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Laurette's ravishin g fee t i n he r hand . Whil e sh e polishe d th e pink shell s encrusted o n th e slender toes , she related al l kind s of gossip—secret s an d scandal s sh e ha d unearthe d i n th e houses wher e sh e worked . Lyin g nonchalantl y bac k amon g the snowdrift s o f he r bed , Laurett e wa s no t eve n listening . This chatte r wa s par t o f th e jo b an d di d no t i n th e leas t pu t her of f he r moros e reverie , "Well , Marion ? Wha t news ? Di d you se e her?" 1 And th e dialogu e continue d i n Frenc h withou t eve n a handshake. "Have I seen her ? Laurette , ar e yo u serious ? I'v e com e t o tell you m y idea, that's all. " "Oh! I see!" said Laurett e i n disappointment . She sa t Mario n dow n besid e th e bed , opposit e th e pedi curist. "I wen t ove r ther e earl y i n th e morning , th e da y befor e yesterday, t o la y m y rose s an d lilie s a t th e fron t doo r lik e I told you . I n the evenin g I went bac k t o se e if the flower s ha d been take n away . The y wer e stil l there , suffering fro m lac k of water . S o I brought the m hom e again . Ther e the y are . N o point makin g the m wretched , i s there ? Yo u ca n tak e the m with yo u whe n yo u go . But I'v e though t o f somethin g bette r to do . I' m goin g t o g o an d pla y m y violi n i n th e courtyard . Aimee wil l recogniz e m y tunes . She'l l kno w it' s me . I onl y agreed to learn the violin when I was little because of a vague instinct which tol d m e I would b e serenading under window s when I grew up . This won't b e the first tim e eithe r . . . " "Nonsense," 2 Mario n interrupted . "Yo u ge t mor e an d more practica l don' t you ? Listen ! And tr y an d answe r with out mixin g everythin g up . I believe I remember tha t Talliar d is very fond o f rar e editions , isn't tha t so? "

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Laurette's eye s glittere d suddenly . Sh e guesse d th e ide a before sh e heard th e rest . "Yes!" sh e said . "That' s jus t wha t w e needed . Yo u ar e brilliant, Marion! " "Wait a moment! I won't b e so silly as to tur n u p with m y books (an d I hav e som e extraordinar y ones , yo u know! ) while Talliar d i s there! I'll preten d t o arriv e unexpectedl y a s though I needed mone y urgently . Bu t I will have checked ou t the surroundin g are a beforehan d an d mad e sur e tha t fo r once Talliar d ha s gon e ou t withou t he r companion . Onc e sure of finding Aime e alone, you see , it will be easy for m e t o tell he r wha t yo u wan t he r t o know . An d the n I wil l hav e done m y job . Bu t yo u mus t giv e m e tim e t o d o th e thin g properly an d no t star t som e foolishnes s o f you r ow n i n th e meantime, which wil l spoil everything. " "Very good , Mario n . . . " Laurette agree d t o everythin g wit h humilit y an d confi dence, sure of her succes s in advance a s always, whatever th e occasion, eve n whe n th e projec t wa s entirel y fantastic , an d despite both he r experienc e an d her skepticism , since she ha d in her bloo d th e prodigiou s America n optimism . On th e othe r sid e of th e bed, avid an d powerless, the hire d hand wen t o n rubbin g th e sam e nai l fo r fa r to o long , trying , despite al l probability , t o catc h th e drif t o f thi s Englis h con versation. Sh e would s o much hav e liked t o b e able to repea t it elsewhere. "Marion, yo u ca n hav e m y carriag e al l da y t o watc h th e Countess's house. " "What a goo d idea ! Tha t wa y I would b e sur e t o remai n incognito. You r carriag e i s entirely unknow n t o thos e ladies , isn't it? "

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"That's true , Marion . I didn' t thin k . . . The n ho w wil l you g o abou t it? " "Leave tha t u p t o me . I ask you onl y t o sta y ou t o f it. " Once agai n Laurett e murmured , "Ver y good , Marion. " Certainly n o on e coul d hav e uttere d tha t littl e wor d wit h such cal m obedience . An hou r late r Marion , lade n wit h flowers , wa s returnin g home havin g refuse d Laurette' s invitation . Befor e makin g her first move , sh e neede d t o collec t he r thought s fa r fro m Miss Wells's bewilderin g Utopias . For a week, a sli m youn g man , a disquietin g figure, watche d that ol d bloc k o f flat s o n th e embankment . H e woul d si t o n a benc h o n th e sidewal k opposite , o r dall y ove r a boo k h e was reading a t one of the bouquiniste 3 stalls . In another are a it woul d hav e bee n fa r harde r fo r hi m t o lear n s o quickl y that th e Countes s Talliar d wen t ou t ever y da y fro m tw o t o three, alone , on foot , holdin g a n Aberdee n terrie r o n a leash , which sh e would tak e fo r a walk wit h complet e regularity — whether fo r th e animal' s health , o r fo r he r own , wa s no t re corded. Madame d e Lagres must have been lazy—or tired . Clearl y she wa s no t fon d o f walking . Fo r a t five o'cloc k mos t pre cisely TalHard' s ca r woul d appea r an d wai t i n fron t o f th e door fo r th e two ladies . On thi s particula r day , Mis s Hervi n ran g th e bel l a t te n pas t two. Hidde n i n he r tax i i n fron t o f th e neares t antiqu e shop , she ha d jus t see n th e Countes s an d th e do g disappea r int o the distance . As sh e climbe d th e stair s t o th e secon d floo r sh e ha d ha d

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to slo w down , afflicte d wit h hear t palpitations . He r burde n of book s was heavy, compose d a s it was o f precious volume s from he r Francisca n library . "Who know s whethe r she'l l se e me ? An d i f sh e doe s se e me, wha t kin d o f figure wil l I cu t offerin g m y book s lik e a pauper? Aime e d e Lagre s ha s onl y me t m e a coupl e o f time s at Laurette's . I f sh e remembers , sh e will dismis s m e immedi ately, smellin g a trap ; i f sh e doesn' t recogniz e me , she'l l wonder wher e o n eart h I'v e com e fro m an d ho w I know th e Countess like s rar e book s . . . I f i t come s t o that , I have m y reply ready , bu t al l th e sam e . . . Why di d I ge t involve d i n this affair ? . . . Com e on , don' t b e a coward ! I wante d t o have fun , that' s all . Whateve r happen s I' m curiou s t o se e how i t will al l turn out. " A manservant opene d th e door . "I woul d lik e t o se e th e Countes s Talliar d . . . ," Mario n said ver y calmly , thinkin g a t th e sam e time , "Thi s i s it ! Th e farce ha s begun! " "The Countes s ha s gon e out , Madame. " "Is ther e n o on e I could spea k to ? I have som e ol d book s that she' s intereste d i n an d I won' t b e abl e t o com e bac k another time. " The servan t mus t hav e bee n familia r wit h th e craze s of th e house. H e seeme d t o hesitate , the n murmured : "I'l l g o an d see . . . " As soo n a s sh e wa s alon e i n th e vestibule , a sudde n pani c seized hol d o f Marion . Sh e was movin g he r han d towar d th e front doo r whe n th e insid e doo r opened . Madam e d e Lagre s appeared. Sh e blinked fo r n o mor e tha n a second . "Oh! Miss Hervin ! Do com e in! " Pale an d amazed , an d heavil y encumbere d b y he r packe t

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of books , Mario n shoo k th e han d hel d ou t t o her . Goo d Lord, how simpl e everythin g was ! The salo n sh e wa s show n int o wa s moder n an d opulent , dry an d refined , ful l o f rar e littl e watercolors , shin y blac k furniture, cubis t canvasses , an d misshape n lampshades . De spite its bare windows th e room remaine d dark—fortunatel y for th e visitor , sinc e th e feelin g tha t sh e wa s a traito r ha d given a very odd cas t t o he r face . Aimee d e Lagre s wen t swiftl y ove r t o th e lowes t o f th e sofas wher e sh e mus t hav e bee n readin g th e boo k throw n down amon g th e golde n cushions . Mis s Hervi n go t th e im pression tha t th e prett y littl e thin g wa s bored , doubtles s isolated, an d tha t sh e wa s ver y happ y t o receiv e a n unex pected visit . Once the y wer e sittin g down , sh e said , "The y sa y yo u have som e book s fo r Madam e Talliard ? Doe s sh e kno w about them ? Sho w me! " Suddenly Mario n regaine d al l her sangfroid . "Do yo u remembe r wher e w e me t before?" sh e asked . "Of course ! At Miss Wells's house! " "Oh! . . . Well, then le t m e tel l you th e trut h righ t away . I didn't com e abou t th e books . But about somethin g else. " " O h ? . . . An d what' s t h a t ? . . . " A trac e o f emotion , a sligh t blush , a certai n brightnes s o f the ey e lit u p Madam e d e Lagres' s face . Mario n fel t instinct ively tha t sh e wa s read y fo r adventure , an y adventure , pro vided i t brok e th e monoton y o f he r life . Sh e ha d tim e t o muse, "Lord , ho w funny ! . . . Eve n a n affai r lik e their s ca n become bourgeois! " "I came on behal f o f th e woman yo u jus t mentioned: Mis s Wells . . . Sh e . . . "

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"Oh! Her!" th e young woman exclaimed , backin g away . "She stil l love s you! " Mario n sai d hurriedly . "Yo u don' t know wha t a state she' s in because o f you! " The othe r woma n burs t ou t laughin g wit h complet e insin cerity. "I like that! " Her hand s clawe d th e neares t cushion . "You ca n tel l he r fro m m e tha t sh e wil l neve r se e m e again. Never ! Never , d o yo u hea r me ! I shoul d hav e sus pected something . Th e othe r da y sh e lef t he r ridiculou s flowers a t m y door . They'v e bee n stolen , what' s more ! Be cause I didn't tak e them. I've had enoug h o f Laurette and he r amateur theatricals ! I don' t eve n hat e her . I conside r he r unworthy o f m y attention , that' s all . What' s go t int o he r now! Why can' t sh e leave me in peace! " She shrugged violently . "What a ham tha t gir l is!" Marion ha d go t to he r feet . "Very good! " sh e said coldly . Aimee curled roun d o n th e sof a provocatively . "On no ! It's no t you r fault . Sta y a while! I always wante d to ge t to kno w yo u better . Just becaus e Laurette' s a . . . " She practicall y lowere d he r voice , "Madam e Talliar d won't b e back fo r anothe r thre e quarter s o f a n hour . S o why don't yo u com e an d si t here . . . " Her throa t swolle n wit h mute d laughter , Mario n wa s un able to speak fo r a few seconds . She regained her self-control , thrust th e larg e packag e unde r he r arm , an d hel d ou t he r hand. "My dea r Madame , yo u ar e charming , bu t I canno t sta y any longer. I had onl y com e to tal k abou t Laurette. "

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Madame d e Lagres di d no t catc h he r insolence . "Bah! What a n uninterestin g subject ! Well, since you're i n such a hurr y today , yo u wil l com e bac k anothe r time , won' t you? You'l l alway s find m e alon e a t thi s tim e . . . Madam e Talliard i s walking he r do g . . . " The imperceptibl e mocker y whic h punctuate d thi s las t word caugh t Marion' s attention . What' s more , Aime e d e Lagres finished off , "Supposin g sh e comes home while you'r e here, you ca n stil l talk abou t th e book s then , can't you? " But o n th e doorstep , wher e sh e wa s stil l tryin g t o kee p Marion fro m leaving , sh e added , " I wil l neve r leav e th e Countess. She's an absolutel y perfect friend . Sh e was so good to m e when I was read y t o kil l mysel f becaus e o f Mis s Well s (how stupi d ca n yo u get!) . Sorry ! You'r e he r friend . Bu t i t won't last ! But tha t wouldn' t sto p u s seein g eac h othe r fro m time to tim e . . . You ar e so interesting! I don't kno w anyon e like you . . . Well, goodbye! Thanks fo r coming , all the same . You wil l com e back? Promise ? Betwee n tw o an d three , don' t forget! I won't tel l th e Countes s yo u cam e today . Wha t us e would tha t be ? S o i f yo u mee t he r som e da y b y chanc e . . . Understood? Good . Goodbye ! Goodbye, dea r Mis s Hervin! "

[ VII I ]

Marion wa s carefu l no t t o le t Laurette know o f littl e Miss d e Lagres's flirtatiou s behavio r towar d her . Wit h he r mulis h stubbornness, th e demente d woma n woul d hav e tormente d her fo r months , mayb e years , unti l Mario n becam e th e in strument o f Aimee' s liberation . More tha n a wee k ha d passe d sinc e Marion' s las t visi t t o Neuilly. Laurett e mad e n o specia l commotio n whe n sh e sa w Miss Hervin , fo r tha t wa s no t he r way ; instead , certai n o f victory, sh e waited t o b e told th e stor y o f th e great battle . This Mario n understoo d fro m th e expressio n o n Laur ette's face , despit e he r iro n self-control . Sh e surprised Laure tte writing letter s a t he r des k i n the little salon . "It's no t goo d new s . . . ," th e hoarse voic e murmured . "You haven' t see n her? Yo u weren't abl e to . . . " i35

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"Oh yes , I saw her. " "Oh! Marion ! Yo u ar e wonderful ! Bu t yo u weren' t abl e to spea k t o her ? Talliar d wa s there? " "No, no t a t all ! Aime e wa s alone , I spok e wit h he r a t leisure." "Marvelous! However di d you manag e it? " Laurette's eye s sparkled . "I'll tel l yo u presently . Bu t yo u shoul d kno w righ t awa y that sh e will neve r leav e th e Countess , sh e i s happy wit h he r and wil l never se e you agai n unde r an y pretext. " Laurette's shor t scornfu l laug h wa s accompanie d b y th e usual shru g o f th e shoulders , an d th e simultaneou s raisin g of her lef t eyebrow , a sure sig n o f emotion . "Fine," sh e snapped. "We'l l thin k o f somethin g else. " "What d o yo u mea n 'somethin g else' ? Th e issu e doe s no t appear t o b e in doubt. " Laurette turne d away , stiff-backe d an d ful l o f scorn . "You jus t didn't g o abou t i t the right way! " Miss Hervi n wa s no t surprise d b y suc h injustic e an d in gratitude. Sh e ha d lon g bee n familia r wit h Laurette' s ba d temper, havin g ofte n bee n presen t a t th e discomfitur e o f others. Patient an d somewha t amused , Mario n tol d Laurett e o f the wee k sh e ha d spen t casin g th e area , the n recounte d th e visit i n al l it s details , savin g onl y thos e whic h sh e wishe d t o keep quiet , an d thes e sh e passed ove r i n silence . Laurette listene d aggressively . "That's no t wha t yo u shoul d hav e sai d . . . ," sh e con cluded wit h a n injure d look . "So yo u thin k i f I ha d sai d somethin g different , Aimee' s

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feelings woul d hav e completel y turne d around ? Yo u thin k people's mind s ar e change d b y a few shor t words? " "With a little shrewdness, you coul d hav e . . . " Marion sense d tha t Laurett e coul d g o o n fo r hours , days , months. Sh e kne w Laurette' s power s o f recriminatio n onl y too well . To cu t i t short, sh e got t o he r feet . "Goodbye, Laurette! " "Stay fo r dinner, " sai d Laurett e imperiously . "There' s a man comin g tonight , Lor d Hampton , who m you'v e alread y met. The on e who's bee n wantin g t o marr y m e for years. " "And wh o woul d ofte n quit e lik e t o bea t you , fo r you r temper an d you r moral s o f whic h h e thoroughly disapprove s ??

"Yes, but h e loves me . He coul d easil y b e persuaded t o d o something fo r me . We'r e goin g t o us e hi m t o ge t Aime e back." "You thin k Madam e d e Lagre s i s susceptibl e t o fallin g for him? " "Of cours e not , Marion! " exclaime d Laurett e irritably . "Madame d e Lagres is incapable o f lovin g a man. That's no t it. I ha d a pla n o f m y own , i n cas e yo u didn' t succeed — which i s how i t turne d out , naturally . I have the whole thin g worked out. " "Really? . . . What's th e plan? " "The thre e o f u s ar e going to abduc t Aimee. " "Well! Well! And how , exactly? " "You'll g o bac k an d se e her agai n an d you'l l invit e he r t o go fo r a littl e wal k wit h you . M y ca r wil l b e waitin g down stairs. Ceci l Hampto n an d I will b e i n it . A t th e gat e you'l l give Aime e a quic k push . Ceci l wil l tak e hol d o f her , you'l l

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get i n behind , an d . . . (her e sh e snappe d he r fingers i n tha t American wa y whic h ca n mea n s o many differen t things ) th e car drive s of f a t to p speed. " "Where to , Laurette? " "To Austria . Princes s Margit , who m you'v e als o met , ha s a chateau i n th e mountains . She'l l len d m e i t t o kee p Aime e locked up. " "Fine. Bu t don' t yo u thin k Aime e wil l screa m ou t th e window fo r help ? And i n the middle of a traffic jam , as we're driving through Paris , that migh t b e a little risky. " "Well, o f course , Marion ! (Laurette' s ton e said , "Goo d Lord, ho w slo w yo u are!" ) . . . Bu t I'v e though t o f that . We'll injec t Aime e wit h morphin e t o kee p he r quie t a s lon g as necessary. " "Oh? . . . Just lik e that, i n the car? " "Certainly! Ceci l will have the syring e al l ready. " "And yo u thin k Aime e will let herself b e injected? " "Well, as soon a s we set off, you'l l cr y out a s though ther e had bee n a n accident . A t tha t moment , Lor d Hampto n wil l inject Aimee . Aime e wil l exclaim , 'Oh ! A n accident ! Oh ! What's prickin g me! ' and she'l l fal l asleep. " "And ther e we are! " Mario n finished, straight-faced . Laurette stare d a t her , quiverin g wit h disapproval , read y to star t the same reproaches a s before, with n o sense that th e plans sh e ha d outline d wer e anythin g othe r tha n perfectl y natural. "Are you stayin g to dinner? " sh e asked i n severe tones. "Why o f course , Laurette ! I want t o b e part o f th e abduc tion party , don' t yo u know! " "We'll g o ove r th e fine detai l wit h Cecil . Oh ! That' s hi m now!"

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For th e nex t tw o week s Mario n wa s t o deriv e enormou s amusement fro m thi s story , beginnin g wit h Lor d Hampton' s rage a t th e dinne r tabl e an d agai n late r i n th e evening . Hi s desire t o hi t Laurett e wa s s o stron g tha t i n th e en d h e thought i t bes t t o leave , slammin g th e doo r behin d him , a s he ha d don e man y a tim e befor e i n hi s life , whic h mean t h e would g o o n bein g angr y fo r a full year . Miss Wells' s pla n wa s consequentl y i n nee d o f modifica tion, bu t no t a s much a s one might have supposed. The fligh t into Austri a remaine d o n th e horizo n an d Laurett e fel t n o need t o le t Princes s Margi t kno w o f he r intentions . Th e Princess woul d find i t perfectl y norma l t o se e th e abducte e and he r escor t arriv e o n he r mountainside , an d woul d no t fail t o offe r he r chateau t o impriso n th e young woman . During thos e tw o weeks , th e littl e apartmen t i n th e six teenth wa s besiege d wit h letters , telegrams , an d message s from Laurette , wh o refuse d t o hav e a telephon e installed . Miss Hervi n continue d good-naturedl y t o pla y he r par t i n the buffoonery . In th e meantime , Laurette' s tempe r becam e mor e an d more unbearable . Thi s wa s he r wa y o f expressin g unhappi ness. Every secon d da y sh e took t o he r bed . Seein g Aimee d e Lagres agai n becam e a n almos t dangerou s obsession . Muf fled u p in her ermine counterpane, steely-eyed , she performe d quite a ritua l o f romanti c mournin g aroun d thi s sorrow , which sh e ha d invente d ou t o f thi n ai r an d i n whic h sh e ended u p believin g t o th e poin t o f givin g herself a n attac k o f neurasthenia. He r choi r o f favorite s suffere d a thousan d snubs an d indignities ; to th e servants , she was a tyrant . One da y whe n sh e went int o Laurette' s bedroom , Mario n found th e woma n lyin g stretche d ou t o n th e be d an d s o pal e

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she wa s frightene d fo r her . Bu t a s sh e ben t dow n t o tal k t o Laurette mor e persuasively , sh e discovered tha t th e rougeles s cheeks ha d bee n duste d wit h whit e powder , instea d o f th e usual pink . Mario n glance d round . Sh e notice d th e curtain s that ha d bee n pu t u p a t th e windows , gree n curtain s whic h threw a cadaverous ligh t ove r Laurette' s face . Farce an d sincerity , th e ver y sou l o f Mis s Well s wa s re vealed i n this stag e setting . "For sh e mus t wee p whe n n o on e i s there. Th e othe r da y her eyelid s were really red , despit e everythin g sh e had pu t o n to hid e i t. . ." Generously, Mario n di d no t le t i t b e see n tha t sh e ha d noticed. Sh e listene d wit h resignatio n t o th e wea k voic e as , once again , i t scolded , goin g ove r an d ove r th e sam e ol d thing an d inventin g bizarr e scheme s . . . "And t o thin k tha t i f Madam e d e Lagre s ha d m y address , she woul d writ e an d as k m e t o com e an d se e her behin d th e Countess's back ! If Laurette onl y knew! " Marion kep t he r secre t withou t compunction . Th e Laur ette fo r who m sh e fel t a certai n sympath y wa s no t th e on e before he r today . In th e en d sh e gre w tire d o f th e endles s trivi a o f thi s steril e affair, bor n o f idleness , wealth , an d to o man y novels . She' d been listenin g t o th e sam e ol d stor y fo r rathe r to o long . He r work calle d ou t t o he r fro m he r bachelo r fla t o n th e lef t bank. On e day , withou t explanation , Mis s Hervi n disap peared. After h e go t t o hi s lowl y dwellin g wit h it s mosai c o f rar e books, youn g Valdeclar e ha d a prett y considerabl e pil e o f

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mail t o wad e through , sighin g a s h e read , befor e h e coul d take u p hi s variou s labor s an d resum e th e rol e o f wha t th e theatre worl d call s "th e ghos t writer" 1 (tha t i s th e on e wh o writes th e play s b y grea t author s t o whic h h e ca n neve r sig n his name) . Ther e wer e telegrams , t o whic h h e ha d naturall y not replied , te n urgen t rendez-vou s alread y out-of-date , tw o new project s fro m hi s usua l slave-drivers , a coaxin g lette r from Ginett e Lobr e i n nee d o f hi s intellectua l lights , a pressing invitation fro m Julie n Midalg e t o a costume part y whic h had com e an d gone , card s announcin g exhibition s an d con certs, a ple a fro m th e youn g autho r fro m th e province s ask ing fo r hi s support , tw o note s fro m a lawye r askin g hi m t o be his secretary , an d lastly , th e onl y sentimenta l ite m amon g so muc h imperiou s an d solicitin g paperwork , a passionat e letter writte n b y th e littl e dark-haire d ma n h e ha d me t a t Midalge's house, who ha d finally discovere d hi s address afte r feverish searching . Adolescence , fervo r an d pomposity : i t made Mario n smile , wit h a pit y no t unmixe d wit h a certai n tenderness.

[IX]

DECEMBER 1 7

I wandere d alon g th e bank s o f th e Seine , i n th e rai n th e asphalt wa s a s reflectiv e a s a river . Th e toin g an d froin g o f the cars , trams , an d buse s seeme d lik e th e movemen t o f ships. Th e light s cam e o n an d th e illusio n wa s complete . I n the twilight , Notre-Dam e hulke d lik e a dar k shi p a t anchor . A lost passerby, I followed wher e my footsteps le d me, weary of work, anonymous , sexless , without destinatio n o r destiny . My hear t wa s sucke d b y th e leeche s o f despair . I sa w Laur ette ge t ou t o f he r ca r nea r th e hous e wher e Aime e lives . She was alone , performin g solel y fo r herself , a performanc e which ha d cause d he r a dangerou s los s o f weigh t an d colo r since I had las t see n her, te n day s before . It is difficult t o recognize another person's pain when ther e i43

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is nothing abou t i t which remind s you o f your own . Laurett e was suffering , an d becaus e he r sufferin g woul d no t hav e been on e fo r me , I coul d no t tak e he r heartach e seriously . Her heartach e wa s a n effect . On e shoul d neve r troubl e one self wit h causes . Remorse a t abandonin g Laurett e rouse d m e from m y ow n sadness. A s lon g a s on e ca n d o somethin g fo r others , on e i s not entirel y wretched . I would g o an d se e Laurette presentl y and pu t mysel f onc e agai n a t he r disposal . Th e whol e affai r was pitiful, bu t i t was the only opportunity I had t o be of us e to someone , outsid e o f th e work fo r whic h I was paid . I wen t an d hi d i n a carriag e entranc e s o tha t Laurette' s eagle ey e shoul d no t pic k m e ou t i n th e crowd . Sh e woul d immediately hav e detecte d Mis s Hervi n beneat h th e appare l of youn g Valdeclare . Wha t a scandal ! Withi n th e wee k th e whole o f Pari s would hav e know n m y secret ! Once th e dange r wa s ove r I wen t bac k home . I wa s les s wretched. I put a little heart int o m y work . DECEMBER l

8

I haven' t bee n ove r t o Laurette' s ye t a s I have t o finis h thi s act an d delive r i t befor e becomin g a woma n again . I n an y case, it' s abou t tim e I wen t bac k t o Passy . Th e littl e dark haired ma n fro m Midalge' s i s b y no w writin g t o m e ever y two days . Las t wee k h e cam e askin g fo r me . Th e concierg e followed m y orders . Sh e didn' t le t hi m com e up . Bu t on e of thes e morning s o r on e o f thes e evening s I won' t b e abl e to hel p findin g mysel f fac e t o fac e wit h hi m an d the n there'l l be a ne w Laurette-Aime e affair , translate d int o th e mascu line. I' m tire d o f abnormality . But , sinc e I mysel f a m a n anomaly, ho w ca n I avoi d it ? Whereve r I go , i t wil l b e m y lot. Ther e i s n o on e fo r m e o n thi s earth , unles s I engag e

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in vice—whic h I find disgustin g an d whic h bore s m e int o the bargain . DECEMBER 1 9

I wil l tak e advantag e o f th e Christma s holidays . M y con cierge o n th e lef t ban k wil l thin k I am leavin g fo r Londo n a s I tel l he r eac h tim e I disappear . Fo r th e concierg e a t Passy , on th e othe r hand , I will b e arriving fro m London . Christmas an d th e Ne w Yea r ar e especiall y loathsom e t o me. I will no t eve n hav e th e bal l an d th e littl e clockwor k ca r that wer e give n t o m e whe n I wa s little . Ther e i s nothin g more ludicrou s tha n th e greetings , gifts , an d candie s ex changed a t this time o f year. And ye t I would lik e to give an d receive som e lik e everyon e else . Being outsid e th e rhyth m o f life, that' s m y tragedy . Othe r people' s joyfu l bustl e onl y confirms i t th e more . Whe n I wal k pas t shop s alread y dis playing Christma s tree s an d suga r tops , I look awa y wit h a terrible urg e t o cry . Bobo, the stor y o f th e holidays . . . DECEMBER 2 1

As o f thi s mornin g I a m Mis s Hervi n onc e again . I'l l g o and se e Laurette i n a moment . THAT EVENIN G

Laurette wasn't there . I left a note saying I'd b e coming tomorrow. DECEMBER 2 2

Lying fla t o n he r be d a s I shoul d hav e expected , sh e stretched ou t he r hand t o me without a word o r a smile, then gave me a packet, whic h I opened .

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"You don' t hav e a cigarette-holder, " sh e said . "Th e tor toiseshell o n thi s on e i s a s sof t t o th e touc h a s a woman' s cheek." I opene d m y mout h t o than k her , astonishe d an d con fused t o hav e a present lik e th e other s fo r th e firs t time , an d such a prett y present . (I t was th e firs t yea r I' d see n Laurett e in Pari s fo r Christmas. ) Sh e di d no t giv e m e tim e t o sa y a word . "Why di d yo u deser t me ? . . . " sh e began , a frow n o n he r forehead an d a glin t i n he r eye . "Yo u wer e to o cowardl y t o stay aroun d fo r th e consequence s o f your blunder. " Oh, wha t constanc y i n Laurett e t o pic k u p he r reproache s exactly where sh e left the m afte r almos t two week s of silenc e and absence ! What' s more , sh e aske d m e nothin g whateve r about m y disappearance . I , o n th e othe r hand , ha d com e t o her refreshed , ful l o f beneficen t fluids , an d sh e taxed m e with her ba d tempe r an d exasperatin g monoton y a s though I were a worthless drudg e . . . In silenc e I let her har p on . I was col d an d patient . A t last , she shu t up . Th e evi l glin t i n he r ey e wa s extinguished . Sh e murmured, " I thin k I would giv e m y lif e t o se e Aime e bac k here fo r fiv e minutes , come o f he r ow n accord , eve n if I were never to se e her agai n . . . " I wa s quit e move d b y thi s speec h an d resiste d shruggin g my shoulders . Bu t I coul d no t sto p mysel f saying , "Tha t would giv e yo u fou r minute s o f happiness , but , a t th e fifth, you woul d realiz e tha t yo u d o no t reall y car e fo r Madam e de Lagres." Very softl y sh e replied, "Tru e . . . " Resigned, half-yawning, I asked, "Nothin g new? " "Yes indeed , Marion ! Aime e i s gettin g read y t o leav e th e

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Talliard woman . They'v e bee n havin g terribl e scene s fo r th e last week. " She considere d m y astonishmen t wit h a glacia l look , a s though i t were a breach o f goo d manners . "Really, Laurette , I jus t don' t ge t it ! Wh y ar e yo u stil l miserable? You'v e achieve d you r goal . Yo u wante d t o tak e Aimee awa y fro m th e Countes s . . . " She interrupted me . "I'm no t takin g he r away . She' s goin g o f he r ow n accord , it's not th e sam e thing. " "Clearly. That' s no t i n th e rule s o f th e game . Yo u wer e meant t o win , an d that' s that. " I regained al l my sangfroid an d smile d a t th e irony . "She's leavin g Talliar d t o g o bac k t o he r husband, " Laur ette snarled, "an d I see the woman who' s actin g as intermediary t o fix thei r broke n marriag e o n a dail y basis . Th e hus band i s taking a lot of coaxing , bu t he'l l give in because h e is still i n lov e wit h Aimee . Onl y hi s famil y wer e alread y tryin g to remarr y him , an d that' s th e caus e o f al l th e problems . Aimee i s s o conventiona l tha t sh e positivel y canno t bea r t o live o n th e fringe s o f society . Sh e want s t o b e a prope r lady again. " I swallowed dow n m y laugh wit h a sudden start . "But that' s magnificent , Laurette ! You'r e mor e tha n avenged now . Thi s time it's Talliard wh o i s suffering, it' s sh e who i s struggling t o retriev e her property! " "Talliard doesn' t interes t me . Tha t Aime e shoul d retur n to her husban d i s more hideou s tha n anything! " "You'll en d u p regrettin g Talliard! " Calmly scandalous , Laurett e replied , "A t leas t sh e wa s a woman . . . "

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"Why don' t yo u joi n force s wit h he r agains t th e husband , Laurette?" Laurette laughed. But it didn't last. Still out of breath fro m this ga y outburst, sh e looked agonized . "It's a shame . . . " "What's a shame, Laurette? " "Everything . . . " We fell silent , a s though som e grea t myster y wer e at hand . So I put m y cigarette s awa y i n th e tortoiseshel l cas e with it s gold rim , li t one , an d said , bravely , somberly , fo r I envie d her retur n t o th e straigh t an d narrow , "Aime e i s right! " Laurette didn' t pounce . He r lef t eyebro w ros e slowly . "Too ba d fo r her. " Whereupon I nearly los t m y temper wit h her . "Listen, Laurette ! That' s enoug h now ! Yo u mus t sto p being sad . It' s a fa d you'v e take n up . You r to y i s broken , play anothe r game! " "I don' t fee l lik e playing anythin g anymore. " I seethed . I raged. I regretted havin g go t caugh t u p i n thi s ridiculous mess . A wav e o f bourgeoi s propriet y filled m e with nausea . I wanted t o yel l "scandal " an d "madman. " A priest's indictmen t o f thi s calml y displaye d indecency , thi s idle sorro w ove r misfortune s a s improper a s they wer e fabri cated, shoo k m y whol e mutinou s being . I hate d Laurette , I hated th e fles h an d it s senseless dissipations . My hand s twiste d wit h pain . Wha t wa s I t o reproac h others fo r thei r sexua l fantasies , I who ha d n o sex ? A poo r impotent figure throw n int o th e turmoi l o f wome n an d men , I was no t permitted t o judg e their actions . All I could d o wa s be jealou s o f thei r passions , I who coul d hav e none ; admir e from a distance the earthy force s concentrate d i n their fragil e

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bodies, governin g thei r smal l soul s wit h th e fata l onrus h o f the tides which ris e and fal l magnificentl y i n their hour with out anythin g bein g abl e t o sto p them . I was no t o f th e earth , and I was no t o f heaven , bein g withou t faith . I was a figure accursed, an d I wanted t o curs e others ? "Goodbye, Laurette, " I said , unabl e t o hid e th e stor m which ravage d me . She kep t m y han d i n her s an d gaze d a t m e fo r severa l minutes. Lik e a strang e respons e t o m y thoughts , sh e said , closing he r eyes , "Yo u ar e th e onl y pur e an d beautifu l bein g I kno w . . . Everyone else , mysel f included , i s s o pett y com pared wit h you , s o miserable, so useless . . . " And, turnin g awa y t o hid e he r tears , perhaps , sh e said , "Forgive m e . . . Forgive m e . . . "

[X]

Alternately irritate d an d indulgent , distractin g Laurett e be came a kin d o f passionat e dut y t o Mis s Hervin . Sh e came t o see he r tw o o r thre e time s a week , ofte n staye d fo r dinner , went ou t wit h her , recite d poetr y fo r her . Fro m tim e t o time , to conque r thi s dogge d depression , an d t o win th e wager sh e had mad e wit h hersel f tha t sh e woul d cur e Mis s Wells—a n illusory ai m whic h dre w he r ou t o f he r loneliness—sh e wa s tempted t o tel l he r th e tru e stor y o f he r life . "But, " sh e thought bitterly , "eve n tha t woul d b e o f les s interes t t o he r than he r ow n obsession . An d wha t terribl e consequence s for me! " A month passed , durin g whic h Mario n occasionall y plunge d into absence . Upo n he r retur n fro m thes e week-lon g disap 151

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pearances, sh e foun d Laurett e apathetic , shu t u p insid e he r pain, comin g t o lif e onl y t o quarrel , wrangle , ramble , an d harp o n abou t differen t schemes , on e mor e hare-braine d than th e next . Madame d e Lagres' s remarriag e ha d it s up s an d downs , but he r break-u p wit h Countes s Talliar d wa s no w definitive . Aimee d e Lagre s ha d retreate d t o a smal l sombe r hotel , awaiting he r ex-husband' s decisio n lik e a chast e an d quiv ering fiancee. "What a n idiot! " Laurett e raged . Forgetting he r recen t anger , sh e added, "Poo r Talliar d ha s left fo r Ital y in despair. " Arriving fo r a n updat e afte r thre e day s spen t fa r fro m Neuilly, Mario n sa t dow n on e mornin g o n th e edg e o f th e ermine blanket . "No change ? . . . Well , loo k here , Laurette , ar e yo u in tending t o spen d th e res t o f your existenc e regrettin g Aimee ? It's almos t lik e takin g th e veil , m y dear ! An d wha t d o you r mourners say , Janine, th e One-with-the-Red-Hair , Natacha , and th e others? " "I stil l see them fro m tim e t o time , Marion. " "Just enoug h t o mak e the m suffer? " "Yes." The chambermai d knocked , cam e in, and hel d ou t a card . "This lady is downstairs an d is asking to see Mademoisell e immediately." Laurette di d no t rais e a n eyebrow . A littl e smil e playe d over he r lip s a s sh e passe d th e card , slowl y an d silently , t o Miss Hervin : "Madam e d e Lagres. " "Oh! M y goodness! " sai d Mario n i n a low voice. "Show he r up! " Laurett e exclaimed .

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Marion ha d jumpe d t o he r fee t an d wa s stalkin g roun d the roo m gesticulatin g wildly . "I'm off! " "No, Marion! " Laurett e ordere d calmly . "O n th e con trary, yo u shoul d stay . You'l l witnes s m y fou r minute s o f happiness—and th e fifth , whic h wil l b e les s so, " sh e adde d melancholically. " I d o believ e you've won! " Her triump h wa s onl y discernibl e fro m th e flicker o f flam e in her blu e eyes; she made n o mov e t o si t up, however . "Oh! Laurette ! Laurette ! . . ." Mario n began . "Wh o would hav e t h o u g h t . . . " She broke off . Aime e d e Lagres cam e in . She caugh t sigh t o f Mis s Hervi n fro m th e doorwa y an d was plainl y stoppe d shor t i n he r tracks . Fo r a secon d sh e hesitated. The n th e impulse wa s stronge r tha n sh e was. "Laurette! . . . " sh e cried out . She had throw n hersel f o n he r knee s by the bed an d kisse d Miss Wells' s hand s a s sh e sobbed . Laurette , he r lef t eye brow raised , stroke d th e nec k whic h la y ben t ove r o n he r sheets. "I kne w yo u woul d com e bac k . . . ," sh e said i n her voic e from within . She lifte d hersel f u p o n on e elbow . He r ton e wa s almos t maternal. "Now, now ! . . . you mustn' t cr y like that! " Aimee raise d he r head . He r eyes , ful l o f anguish , an d streaming wit h tears , turne d towar d Marion , wh o wa s stil l on he r feet . An d suddenl y sh e accepte d he r presenc e a t thi s touching reconciliation . Han d outstretched , eye s cas t down , she cried , "Oh ! Mis s Hervin ! Yo u di d sa y tha t sh e love d me!"

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"Didn't yo u kno w that? " Laurett e aske d softly . And a t tha t ver y moment , Mario n sa w a n ironi c shado w pass ove r he r face . Th e fou r minute s wer e over . Th e fift h was beginning . "Since sh e i s here, " Madam e d e Lagre s gulped , "Mis s Hervin shal l hea r everything . I trust her! " She tore of f he r hat, hurled i t onto th e carpet an d searche d frenziedly fo r he r handkerchie f t o wip e he r nos e an d eyes . And, stil l o n he r knees , she cried, "Laurette , Laurette , you'r e the onl y on e who ca n sav e me! . .. I f you onl y knew! " "What's th e matter then? " Laurette ha d jus t flushe d t o he r hairline . Sh e sa t u p smartly o n he r pillows . Th e expressio n o n he r fac e wa s already guessin g a t som e melodramati c piec e o f theater . Aimee wa s onl y comin g bac k t o he r t o as k fo r hel p an d succor. Thi s wa s n o triumph . He r fou r minute s o f happines s were a n illusion ! Marion, sittin g apar t fro m th e others , he r chi n thrus t forward, wa s knittin g he r brows . "Well, I won' t bea t abou t th e bush! " th e youn g woma n declaimed excitedly . She made a sweeping gestur e a s of a woman shipwrecked . "Laurette! Laurette ! . . . I' m fou r an d a hal f month s pregnant!" "Pregnant?" exclaime d Mis s Well s an d Mis s Hervi n to gether. For a secon d the y exchange d look s ove r Aimee' s head , which wa s onc e agai n burie d i n the ermine . "Laurette! Laurette ! . . . I've don e everythin g t o ge t ri d o f it! . . . There's n o way ! So , do yo u understand ? It' s impossi ble for m e to g o bac k t o m y husband! "

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Sitting up again , he r hand s twistin g an d turning , sh e wep t so lou d sh e crie d out , "Ther e i s nothin g lef t fo r m e bu t t o kill myself ! . . . Hel p me ! Think o f something ! Bot h o f you , think o f something! " She fel l bac k dow n again , he r anguishe d shoulder s shoo k the bed. A short, dreadfu l silenc e fell . "You poo r littl e thing!" Laurett e murmure d a t last . And al l her contemp t passe d awa y i n this wave of pity . Imperturbable, sh e tappe d th e arm s whic h ha d bee n thrown acros s her . "Now then ! Sit down an d tel l us what happened. " She added loftily , "Yo u di d wel l to com e an d se e me." "I did , didn' t I? " th e youn g woma n stuttere d throug h he r tears, adding , a s sh e sa t a t th e edg e o f th e bed , " I kne w yo u were a brick. " "Well? . . . " Laurett e aske d wit h a smile . Marion cam e an d sa t dow n o n th e othe r sid e o f th e bed . Aimee gaze d a t the m both , he r ches t heaving , he r hank y t o her mouth . "I wa s s o bore d wit h Madam e Talliard ! S o . . . s o . . . I took a love r . . . I t wasn' t eas y . . . Sh e kep t suc h a clos e watch o n m e . . . I only sa w hi m thre e o r fou r time s . . . And then . . . And the n h e lef t . . . H e wa s jus t a youn g bo y . . . Not ric h . . . He left t o d o his military servic e . .. i n German y . . . I was no t fon d enoug h o f hi m t o reall y mis s him . . . But Madame Talliar d coul d se e that somethin g wa s up. Then th e rows began . An d the n I wanted t o g o bac k an d liv e with m y husband. Oh ! ho w I wan t t o g o bac k an d liv e wit h m y husband! . . . Well, everythin g bega n t o wor k ou t ver y wel l . . . And . . . then . . . I noticed i t . . . Weeks! . . . Weeks! . . . I've bee n struggling ! . . . All alon e . . . Oh! i t wa s awful ! . . .

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The midwive s . . . th e . . . Al l alone ! N o on e i n th e whol e world knows , except you two , now! " She plunged he r fingers int o he r shor t hair . "I a m dishonored ! Dishonored ! Wha t wil l becom e o f me ? . . . An d no t a penn y t o m y name ! I'v e throw n m y whol e dowry ou t th e window ! I f m y husban d won' t tak e m e back , what then? " Her eye s wer e n o longe r lookin g a t th e tw o peopl e lis tening t o her . Sh e gazed upo n the m emptily , seein g only fat e before her . "I'm sic k an d tire d o f bein g involved i n your seed y affairs ! I want t o go back t o my life fro m before . I want m y husband , I want m y position! " At thi s direc t attack , Laurett e shoo k he r head , he r bac k straight a s on grea t occasions . "Our seed y affair s hav e neve r give n yo u a child! " sh e said calmly . Aimee fel t th e dange r passing . Sh e starte d kissin g Laur ette's hands onc e again . "You see ? You'r e th e on e I com e to ! You'r e th e on e I've chosen , becaus e ther e i s onl y you ! Oh ! Laurette ! . . . Save me!" "What ca n w e do? " Laurett e asked , lookin g a t Mis s Hervin. And suddenl y sh e ha d th e ai r o f a businessma n i n th e middle o f a deal . What impossibl e schem e woul d sh e inven t t o hel p ou t he r supplicant? Mario n di d not want t o leave her time to digress . "Listen!" sh e said . She lowere d he r hea d t o thin k fo r a moment . The n sh e said, "Yo u mus t answe r m e perfectly honestly , Aimee. "

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Aimee felt , a t th e sam e tim e a s Laurette , a reassurin g authority asser t itsel f i n Mis s Hervin' s tone . The y bot h turned towar d he r i n petrified attention . "Has you r husban d decide d t o tak e you back? " "I thin k h e woul d lik e to . Bu t h e let s hi s famil y tel l hi m what t o do , an d al l sort s o f othe r peopl e wh o wan t hi m t o make a profitabl e remarriag e an d wh o woul d b e onl y to o happy t o discove r wha t ha s happene d t o me. " "Fine. Do you thin k h e still loves you? " "Oh, I' m sur e o f that! " "Good. I f he stil l loves you, we'v e won. " A quiver ra n throug h littl e de Lagres's body . Her reddene d eyes filled magnificently wit h hope . "Here's wha t yo u hav e t o d o . . . ," Mario n wen t on , constructing he r scenari o a s sh e wen t along . "Hav e yo u written t o hi m yet? " "Yes." "Good. You'r e goin g t o writ e t o hi m again . You'r e goin g to sa y tha t yo u understan d hi s hesitation , tha t yo u d o no t deserve his forgiveness , tha t yo u onl y wan t hi m t o b e happy , that yo u accep t you r ow n miser y a s long a s he is happy. An d (believe yo u me! ) you'r e goin g t o disappear . Fo r a yea r h e must no t kno w wher e yo u ar e hidin g no r wha t ha s becom e of you . Fro m tim e t o tim e yo u wil l sen d hi m a not e o f repentance an d abnegation ; thi s not e wil l b e conveye d b y intermediaries, mysel f fo r example , wh o wil l kee p hi m i n ignorance a s t o you r address . Meanwhile , th e bab y wil l b e born an d give n t o a wet-nurs e i n th e regio n wher e yo u gav e birth. An d onl y whe n yo u ar e entirel y recovere d wil l yo u begin t o ben d a littl e i n you r letter s an d en d u p suggestin g the idea , th e hop e o f a meeting . Th e first tim e yo u finally le t

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him hav e you r address , you r husban d wil l repl y b y beggin g you t o com e back , unles s h e rushe s dow n lik e a madma n t o get you himself. " As Marion spoke , Aimee claspe d he r hand s together . "Oh!" sh e cried. "D o yo u reall y think so? " "But wha t i f h e remarrie s durin g tha t time? " Laurett e murmured. "He won' t marr y again . He'l l b e fa r to o bus y tryin g t o find ou t wher e Aime e i s hiding. Eve n i f ther e weren' t a chil d to conceal , this would b e the onl y tacti c to ge t him back. " "But, o n th e contrary , won' t i t mak e hi m gues s abou t the child? " "Look, Laurette ! Hav e a littl e psychology ! Ho w i s h e going t o gues s there' s a child , give n th e kin d o f affair s hi s wife lef t hi m for? " Whereupon th e humorou s sid e of th e whole dram a struc k Laurette's imaginatio n an d sh e bega n t o laug h he r finest laugh, rusty , weak , an d helpless ; he r laug h a s ga y a s inno cence. Marion shrugged . "Instead o f laughing , hel p m e decid e o n th e details . W e must se t t o wor k immediatel y t o find a place i n som e corne r of th e provinces wher e th e bab y wil l b e born. " "I don' t hav e an y mone y . . . " Madam e d e Lagre s admit ted i n a whisper . And he r hea d hun g dow n low . Laurette too k he r hand . "Don't yo u worr y abou t that , darlin g . . . " The ember s o f laughte r whic h wer e stil l playin g ove r Laurette's fac e no w disappeared . "Marion," sh e said. "It' s u p t o you t o direc t us. "

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Marion wa s surprise d b y th e palpitatio n whic h struc k her whe n thes e word s wer e spoken . Sh e wa s bein g give n responsibility fo r th e dangerou s adventur e the y were t o face , she wa s bein g entruste d wit h a woman' s destiny . Wa s i t anguish sh e felt ? Wa s i t a kin d o f pleasure , th e pleasur e of bein g useful , o f livin g b y prox y th e event s o f someon e else's life ? "Fine," sh e said . "Bu t I still hav e a lot o f question s t o as k in order t o understan d th e situation fully. " "You'll bot h sta y t o lunc h wit h me, " Laurett e decided . "I'm no t goin g out til l this evening . We'll hav e the afternoo n to mak e plans. " There followe d a moment' s silence , eac h on e o f the m absorbed i n th e gravit y o f th e presen t an d th e future . The n Laurette, he r mout h turne d u p a t th e corners , hisse d i n con clusion, " A baby ! Yo u tricke d u s al l righ t royally , Aimee , without mentionin g you r husband. " With a retur n o f gaiet y sh e added , "Perhap s i n th e en d h e would hav e bee n happ y t o se e yo u com e hom e pregnant . I t would reassur e hi m abou t you r behavio r whil e yo u wer e away fro m hi m . . . "

Intermezzo

The ambiguou s silhouett e o f a figure wit h tw o face s ca n b e seen prowling , bu t neve r participating , a t variou s carnival s in moder n dress : Julie n Midalge' s studio , Laurett e Wells' s villa, Ginett e Lobre' s bea r pit , on e o r tw o opiu m dens , cer tain cabarets , certain negr o balls . The rea l bourgeoisi e doe s no t frequen t thes e places , o r rather wha t i s lef t o f th e rea l bourgeoisi e i n a Pari s head ing mor e an d mor e towar d a confusio n o f th e genders , a Paris i n whic h th e societ y o f th e post-wa r years 1 i s toppl ing th e divisiv e barrier s on e afte r another , leavin g onl y a n undifferentiated, multicolore d mob , whos e number s ar e in creased b y the surreptitiou s invasio n o f th e foreigner , addin g an extr a intensit y t o th e color s o f thi s phreneti c Harle quinade. 163

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Alone o f hi s kin d amids t a n onslaugh t o f lust , ambition , vanity, an d stupidity , th e uniqu e audienc e fo r who m th e immense dram a i s playe d out , hi s laug h become s mor e and mor e pronounce d eac h day . Lif e ha s n o meanin g fo r Marion i n thi s rol e o f neute r surrounde d b y th e battl e o f desires. Bitte r pastime ! To o lon g a n exil e amon g huma n beings fo r a despairin g archange l wh o doe s no t believ e i n heaven. Where shoul d h e go? Why, he should stay here! What shoul d h e do ? Why, work to make a living! "Bobo, th e stor y o f everything! " "What a fine pla y I made the m perfor m withou t eve r writin g it down! " Now tha t Aime e ha d give n birth , th e chil d bee n place d with a wet-nurse , th e husban d remarrie d t o hi s wife , a mar tyr to remorse an d abnegation ; no w tha t Laurett e had recov ered an d take n u p th e norma l cours e o f he r abnorma l life , why woul d th e vill a i n Neuill y continu e t o witnes s th e com ings an d going s o f a Mis s Hervin , excite d b y he r struggl e t o save th e unhapp y woma n i n who m sh e wa s onl y slightl y in terested? Stay her e an d wor k t o mak e a living , unti l death , th e grea t leveler, make s th e "unfortunat e individual, " exclude d fro m life, int o s o muc h dus t t o resembl e tha t o f al l th e others , th e only hop e permitte d hi s humbl e an d ragin g desir e t o b e lik e everyone else.

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Je ferai mon squelette aussi bien que les autres 2 An alexandrin e discovere d on e sleeples s nigh t i n Mari e Noel's admirabl e boo k wil l hencefort h b e th e consolin g lul laby o f a lif e which , fro m th e da y o f hi s birth , ha s bee n s o monstrously desolate .

[XI]

With fou r i n th e ca r an d Charli e u p fron t nex t t o th e driver , and th e ca r roo f dow n s o sh e coul d ad d he r twopencewort h to th e conversation , ho w woul d an y o f the m hav e ha d tim e to watch th e countrysid e fl y by ? Charlie, th e ne w presenc e i n Laurette' s life , spok e Englis h with som e unidentifiabl e America n accent , t o th e irritate d amusement o f Lor d Hampton , wh o refuse d t o understan d a single syllable o f he r formidabl y nasa l slang . Though somewha t chubby , Charli e wa s nonetheles s dressed lik e a man , excep t fo r a short skirt , unde r whic h sh e felt i t necessar y t o wea r legging s a s thoug h sh e wer e goin g off t o war . "Let m e drive! " sh e had sai d a s they se t off . "I'l l tak e yo u to Solesme s a t a hundre d kilometer s a n hour , sinc e that' s where you've decide d t o go. " 167

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But neithe r th e drive r no r Laurett e ha d agreed . Charli e had show n hersel f t o b e to o reckles s i n ever y way , reck lessness bein g a fundamenta l par t o f he r nature , peopl e said , a fac t whic h wa s born e out , moreover , b y he r dress , he r almost-shaven head , he r remarks , he r insolence , th e cigar s she smoked , everything , i n fact , dow n t o he r smalles t ges ture. Amid al l thi s artles s mannishness , tw o fa t pearl s shon e paradoxically a t her ears . Despite th e sharpnes s i n th e air , tha t Pal m Sunda y th e cherry an d pea r tree s of April swaye d lik e vast baskets ful l o f birds alon g the road. A little round snow-lade n clou d floate d in th e blu e above , a s thoug h on e o f thos e whit e tree s ha d suddenly take n of f int o th e sky . The pleasant mildnes s o f th e Sarthes wa s beginning . "Laurette, wh y ar e w e goin g t o Solesmes , o r whereve r i t is?" Charli e asked , turnin g righ t roun d o n he r seat . "Because Mario n an d Ceci l sai d ther e wer e me n ther e from th e Middle Ages and we should go to Mass tomorrow. " "Do yo u reall y mea n t o sa y w e hav e t o g o t o Mass? " Charlie roare d wit h laughter . And th e woma n sittin g o n th e bac k sea t betwee n Mario n and Laurette , Iffe t Effendi , a Turkis h princess , raise d he r beautiful dar k eye s t o heave n wit h th e wear y loo k o f a n exotic beast . Sh e rolle d he r Rs , warbling lik e al l th e wome n of he r country , an d replie d i n perfect English . "Even I who a m Muslim , kno w mor e tha n you ! Solesme s is a famous abbey. " "Solesmes! Th e Benedictin e monks!! " Lor d Hampto n cried scornfully , endangerin g th e stabilit y o f hi s perch a t th e ladies' feet . "Hav e yo u neve r hear d o f it? "

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"Solesmes an d th e Easte r Mass, " Mario n continue d mor e softly, "whic h date s bac k t o Charle s th e Fifth! " "Are you sure? " Lor d Hampto n aske d wit h interest . "Marion know s everything! " pronounce d Laurette . Charlie was whistling a snatch o f ragtim e int o th e wind . While sh e pursue d th e learne d conversatio n sh e ha d jus t started wit h Lor d Hampton , Mis s Hervi n di d no t tak e he r eyes of f th e sight s o f spring . Ho w lon g ha d i t bee n sinc e sh e last sa w th e countryside ? He r min d saturate d wit h Paris , with it s stone , it s iron , it s tree s confine d i n asphalt , sh e marveled silentl y a t everythin g the y passe d t o th e lef t an d right o f th e car . O h t o sto p th e car ! To ge t out! To breath e i t all in! To touch ! . . . And sur e enough, a s they drov e int o a narrow road , i n th e middle o f th e country , wit h n o sig n posts , untarre d an d completely deserted , a tire burst, th e ca r skidded , th e passen gers shoute d i n alarm , an d the y stoppe d nex t t o a ditc h ful l of grass , under tree s whose bud s ha d onl y jus t opened . "We shoul d tak e advantag e o f th e sto p an d hav e tea! " Charlie pronounced. "It' s te a time! " And whe n everyon e ha d go t out , th e littl e ban d o f travel ers settled themselve s o n th e gras s next t o th e road . "Here ar e th e cakes , here' s th e thermos , her e ar e th e cups!" Charli e wen t on , ver y prou d o f he r reputatio n a s a good manager . "I neve r drin k tea, " Laurett e declared . " I mus t hav e a glass o f water . I' m dyin g o f thirst . Mayb e there' s a strea m near here? " "Stay there, " Charli e said , ful l o f importance . "I'l l g o an d find you some . There's a farm jus t roun d th e bend. "

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"I'll g o wit h you! " crie d Marion , eage r t o wal k i n th e greenery. "Me too! " sai d th e Turk . Sitting down nex t t o Laurette , Lord Hampto n said , "We'l l wait fo r you! " They se t of f towar d th e farm . A ma n appeare d o n th e path, drivin g two peacefu l cow s before him . "They're no t o n a leash!" exclaime d Charlie , stopping stil l in her tracks . And th e Turk , astonished , ben t towar d Mario n an d mur mured i n French, "She' s scared! " "Her?" "I assur e you, m y dear! " "That's rich! " Taking th e lea d t o g o pas t them , Mario n move d forward , followed b y the Turk wit h Charli e clutchin g thei r arms . On e of the cows moved aside , her head held low, away from thes e strange wome n wh o ha d startle d her . Charlie' s piercin g cr y was followe d b y a fleeing leap . Grabbing th e trun k o f a tree, with a comi c gesture , sh e mad e a s i f t o clim b it . Marion' s laughter wa s stifle d i n he r throa t a s always ; th e Hanou m Effendi's ran g ou t lou d an d clear . "Really! What's th e point o f dressin g like a boy?" Charlie walked bac k t o them , lookin g pale. "I wa s jus t tryin g t o mak e yo u laugh . I t worked , didn' t it?" But she didn't dar e insis t o n thi s lie. As they returne d wit h thei r bottl e o f water , th e Tur k turne d cruel.

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"Charlie save d u s fro m th e horn s o f a bull! " sh e re counted. "A bull , thos e tw o poo r cow s w e sa w goin g past? " Lor d Hampton sai d i n amazement . And Marion continue d i n French, which wa s unintelligibl e to Charlie , "Laurette , your matamor e i s just a big ninny! " Between mouthful s o f water , Laurett e replie d impassively , "That's alway s th e wa y whe n the y dres s lik e men . Yo u ca n tell i n advanc e tha t they'r e sissies—an d I mea n i n ever y regard!" "What ar e you talkin g about? " Charli e aske d uneasily . But Laurett e di d no t deig n t o reply . I n a hurry a s always , though ther e wa s n o reaso n fo r i t whatever , sh e wante d t o set off immediately . Th e spar e wheel was put on . They drov e off agai n i n the intangibl e sprin g air . Marion stifle d he r sighs . Their arriva l a t th e onl y hote l on e ca n sta y a t whil e visitin g the abbe y mus t hav e lef t a n unforgettabl e memory , eve n though almos t al l th e literar y light s o f Pari s hav e passe d through it s doors . Cold, imperious, and speakin g in a murmur, Laurett e gav e disgruntled order s a s soo n a s sh e walke d i n th e door . He r bad temper , Marion' s appearance , Charlie' s appearance , which wa s eve n mor e striking , the Princess with he r eye s like a houri, 1 thick with mascara , Ceci l Hampton's ai r of irritate d nonchalance, thi s extraordinar y ban d wh o aske d fo r bath rooms whe n eve n bathtub s wer e unknow n i n th e area , wh o demanded quie t room s an d wante d t o orde r a n elegan t din ner, cause d a revolution i n the poor inn .

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"It's cold!" Laurett e complained a s soon as she was show n her room . "Wh y ar e ther e n o carpet s o n thos e ghastl y tiles?" In th e roo m nex t t o hers , Charli e wa s lightin g a cigar . Further down , th e Tur k wa s freshenin g u p he r roug e i n front o f th e cloud y looking-glass . Onl y Lor d Hampto n an d Marion, los t i n th e endles s corridors , wen t o n talkin g abou t Solesmes while they smoked . "What tim e i s Mas s tomorrow? " Mis s Hervi n aske d th e frantic bo y wh o wen t pas t the m carryin g tw o littl e jug s o f hot water . "Nine o'clock. " "We'll b e the onl y one s going , you'll see! " Lor d Hampto n predicted. And h e was proved right . "Oh! . . . wh y ar e yo u wakin g m e u p s o early , Marion? " Laurette grumble d th e next morning . "Oh, com e on ! We cam e here fo r th e Easte r Mass! " "Let m e sleep . Charlie' s no t going , no r i s Iffet . An d thi s hotel i s horrible ! W e shoul d hav e spen t th e nigh t a t L e Mans!" "We followe d you r program , Laurette! " "And no t on e o f you kne w wher e w e would en d up? " "Go bac k t o sleep , Laurette , g o bac k t o sleep ! I' m goin g to finis h gettin g dressed . By e now ! Yo u ca n star t you r com plaints agai n a t luncheon! " It wa s eleven-thirt y befor e sh e cam e bac k an d sa t o n th e edge of th e bed where Laurett e ha d decide d to remain fo r th e midday mea l becaus e o f th e cold . Miss Wells sa w s o many dream s an d suc h enchantmen t i n

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these eye s returnin g fro m Easte r Mas s tha t sh e ha d th e su preme tac t t o bit e back th e rush o f recrimination s waitin g o n the tip o f he r tongue . "Oh! Laurette ! . . . It' s suc h a pit y yo u didn' t ge t up ! . . . If only you knew! " "Tell m e abou t it , Marion! I t will b e much mor e beautifu l than i f I had gone! " Solesmes, th e Easte r Mas s i n th e basilisk , tha t lon g whit e corridor wher e th e su n stream s i n throug h fade d staine d glass windows ; th e wall s withou t pictures , withou t statues ; the alta r withou t a tabernacle ; th e tw o ston e throng s t o th e right an d lef t o f th e choir , thos e figures , sculpte d i n th e fourteenth an d fifteent h centuries , see m t o have begotte n th e immaculate processio n o f livin g monks ; th e singing , datin g back t o th e firs t centuries , issuin g fro m th e throat s o f me n forbidden t o us e the ful l brillianc e o f thei r voices , just a s it is forbidden fo r th e sacerdota l robe s t o displa y th e ful l bril liance of thei r colors ; the white bisho p wit h hi s mitre o f pal e gold aroun d who m hav e evolve d th e monk s o f snow ; th e snow o f th e wall s illuminatin g thes e whit e monk s bordere d with sunlight , a nuance d gleam , transparen t shadows ; thi s Easter fairylan d resemblin g som e still-unknow n creed , Mar ion recounte d i t al l i n he r dee p voic e mad e hoars e wit h emotion. "And, Laurette , whe n th e Mas s wa s over , Lor d Hampto n was bol d enoug h t o as k som e question s o f a mon k passin g by. H e replie d s o courteously ! H e sa w tha t w e understoo d their lily-lik e purity; 2 h e explaine d everythin g t o us , accom panied u s t o th e sacristy , ha d whol e drawer s ful l o f gown s spread ou t befor e u s wove n i n restraine d hues , ha d th e las t crozier t o b e carve d i n th e monaster y brough t t o him , al l i n

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ivory wit h a kneelin g ange l amon g th e adornments , whos e long wing s hun g dow n lik e th e elytra 3 o f a whit e insect . What disdai n the y ha d fo r th e bras h color s o f th e mai n Church! Th e Benedictine s ar e veritabl e religiou s aesthetes , the aristocrac y o f Catholicism . Th e arts , literature , history , music, the y cultivat e the m all , a s wel l a s thei r beautifu l gar dens. The y lov e th e moder n a s muc h a s th e antique . Thei r altar ha s jus t bee n complete d b y a contemporar y designer . They hav e electricit y i n th e basilisk . Bu t tha t doe s no t pre vent the m fro m bein g emaciate d du e t o sever e die t an d con stant prayer . I n the final processio n ther e was a young mon k who wa s s o pale, s o uplifte d . . . Fifteen o r sixtee n year s ol d maybe . . . " "He coul d no t hav e bee n mor e uplifte d tha n you , Marion ! Are you sur e that yo u wer e not tha t youn g monk? " Miss Hervi n gav e a start . A t tha t momen t he r abbe's exclamation suddenl y ros e u p agai n i n he r memory , "He'l l become a Benedictine! " "You've gon e silent , Marion? " "I have no mor e t o say , Laurette. " "Pity! I t wa s s o beautiful ! I a m ver y gla d I cam e t o Solesmes . . . " The look i n her eye changed th e topic of conversation eve n before he r words . "But . . . You haven' t forgotte n tha t th e origina l ide a wa s to g o an d surpris e Aimee' s child' s foste r mother? " "Oh! That' s right! " Marion' s voic e becam e sober , snatched fro m it s dream . "Here the y ar e wit h m y luncheon, " Mis s Well s wen t on . "Hurry u p an d ea t with th e others . We must b e back i n Pari s before nightfall. "

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Charlie, Iffet , an d Lor d Hampton , groupe d aroun d th e ca r on th e road , wher e the y ha d bee n tol d t o wait , se t their wit s to improvising a cocktail fro m element s provided b y Charlie . They hadn' t eve n listene d t o wha t Laurett e ha d tol d the m through half-ope n lips : "Mario n an d I ar e goin g t o se e th e baby o f on e of m y old maid s . . . " What a lo t o f troubl e i t too k t o fin d th e littl e hous e forgotten amon g th e cultivate d fields wher e Madam e d e La gres's son, "o f unknow n parentage, " wa s hidden . It ha d bee n tw o an d a hal f year s sinc e th e Wido w Lagnel , paid regularl y b y Mis s Wells , whose nam e sh e didn' t know , had see n th e tw o ladie s i n th e ca r wh o ha d give n he r th e child. "The nurs e ha s name d hi m Pierr e Petit 4 o n hi s birt h cer tificate. You'l l receiv e th e su m agree d upo n eac h month . We wer e tol d a t th e tow n hal l tha t w e coul d coun t o n your honesty! " It wa s b y chanc e tha t the y ha d chose n th e Sarth e regio n on th e ma p o f France . Bor n i n a hol e i n th e Pyrenees , th e child wa s t o disappea r int o th e depth s o f som e othe r par t o f the country . Miss Wells's decisio n t o g o and surpris e this foster mothe r did no t impl y an y specia l interes t i n th e innocen t victi m o f Aimee de Lagres's affairs , bu t rathe r a little attac k o f avaric e as befel l he r fro m tim e t o time . Fo r a whil e th e Wido w Lagnel ha d bee n sendin g lette r afte r lette r t o Mis s Wells' s lawyer's address , the only on e she had bee n given , asking fo r an increas e i n the allowanc e paid, sinc e the cost of livin g ha d gone up again . Angry abou t th e tim e the y ha d waste d lookin g fo r th e little house , a s wel l a s abou t everythin g else , Laurett e ha d

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already assume d he r steel y ey e an d straigh t bac k a s sh e crossed th e littl e garden . Mario n followe d he r absently , smoking a cigarette , entirel y absorbe d i n he r Benedictin e dreams. A littl e gan g o f childre n ra n u p a s the y approached , th e oldest being about ten , the five others decreasing in age dow n to th e smalles t infant . Curiosity spurre d the m t o g o an d mee t th e fine ladies, bu t as soo n a s the y cam e near , Marion' s cigarett e froz e the m t o the spot . "Are yo u th e Lagne l children? " Laurett e aske d i n froze n tones. "YesM'Lady..." Laurette opene d he r mout h t o as k "Whic h on e i s th e foster-child?" bu t sh e stoppe d short . I t wa s no t har d t o recognize hi m i n th e shabb y garment s o f a poor child . Sickl y and fearful , alread y a t tw o an d hal f h e wa s clearl y o f a different rac e tha n th e res t o f th e gan g wit h thei r rudd y cheeks an d peasan t build . H e ha d Aimee' s melanchol y eye lids an d he r aristocrati c hands . Th e res t o f hi s smal l perso n must hav e take n afte r hi s father . Hi s blon d bab y hai r fel l i n dusty curl s ove r hi s golde n brow n eyes . Snotty-nose d an d shy, he hid behin d on e o f th e girls. Widow Lagne l hurrie d t o mee t them . Sh e recognize d th e fine ladies and , visibl y pu t out , launche d int o excuse s fo r th e children's untid y appearance , wit h a quantit y o f explana tions about the difficulty o f keeping them clean , much groan ing ove r th e harshnes s o f th e time s an d th e ba d luc k o f becoming a widow wit h five children t o raise . "The sixt h pay s fo r th e others! " Laurett e scornfull y cu t her short .

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She ha d generousl y agree d t o Aimee' s salvatio n an d it s financial consequences , bu t sh e intende d t o hav e he r fill o f accusations an d criticism , sinc e tha t wa s wha t sh e had com e for. "With five kid s an d tha t on e int o th e bargain! " th e peas ant woman repeate d stubbornly . "You shouldn' t hav e had s o many! " "And w e ar e s o poor! " continue d th e other , wh o hadn' t heard. "I loathe th e poor!" sai d Laurette . But her voic e was s o low tha t thi s to o wa s lost . "Will th e ladies com e int o th e house . . . " Widow Lagne l was al l pleasant attention . They wen t in . Leavin g th e other s outside , th e foste r mother ha d take n he r charg e u p i n he r arms . H e yelle d and kicked . "Now, now , littl e Pierre ! Now, now! " "Put him out!" Laurett e ordered. "W e can't hea r ourselve s think an d I need t o tal k t o you. " The oldes t o f th e urchin s wa s calle d an d le d youn g Pierr e Petit away . The y di d no t se e hi m again . Th e bitte r discus sion began . The su n wa s goin g dow n whe n Mario n an d Laurett e reap peared. Th e othe r thre e wer e merr y fro m th e cocktail s an d greeted the m wit h shout s an d laughter . Bu t Laurett e go t more an d mor e irritabl e an d thei r gaiet y graduall y turne d t o peevishness o n th e lon g rid e home . B y the tim e the y reache d Paris, Charli e an d th e Turk wer e no t speakin g t o eac h other , and Laurett e ha d onc e agai n falle n ou t with Lor d Hampton .

[XII]

In orde r t o giv e hersel f u p entirel y t o he r ne w preoccupa tion—Solesmes—Marion fel t th e nee d t o b e a man . A ver y different kin d o f solitud e fro m tha t o f Pass y awaite d hi m a t his already monkis h apartmen t o n th e left bank . It wa s th e first tim e hi s writin g tabl e ha d see n th e poe t engaged i n anythin g othe r tha n wor k o n othe r people' s writ ing o r th e compositio n o f poetry . B y som e mysteriou s com pulsion h e neede d t o b e seate d i n th e sam e plac e wher e hi s mind ha d toile d ove r literar y labor . Onl y ther e wa s h e a t ease to think . The mystica l figure o f th e youn g mon k a t Easte r . . . Ob session! T o b e tha t himself , t o serv e Mass , t o dres s i n th e same archangelica l whitenes s i n tha t otherworldl y atmo sphere; t o wea r masculin e robe s unti l th e da y h e died , th e i79

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only garment s possibl e fo r him ; n o longe r t o maintai n an y contact wit h ordinar y existence , ha d no t th e voice s o f hi s childhood prophesie d hi s destiny , th e onl y on e suitabl e fo r him? "He'll becom e a Benedictine! " Before thes e word s ha d represente d onl y a n empt y for mula. Sinc e his visit t o Solesmes , they wer e written i n mirac ulous letter s mad e o f light , o n th e walls , o n th e ground , in th e sky , eve n i n th e darkness , everywher e hi s unseein g eyes turned . "What i s there t o preven t m e becomin g a monk? . . . I am used t o workin g anonymously , I' m use d t o silence , I' m use d to concentrating . I could fas t fo r a s long a s anyone wanted. I am sexless . I am wear y o f lif e . . . " He pu t hi s hea d i n hi s hand s a s h e trie d t o believe . Tha t was al l he lacked: faith . The catechism ? A piece o f childhoo d drudgery . Bitterl y h e reviewed hi s abbes, on e afte r th e other , the n th e Jesuit s a t the college . N o outstandin g pries t ha d appeare d i n hi s life . Those h e had know n wer e no mor e tha n colorles s memories . He ha d graduall y constructe d hi s ow n mystica l real m b y himself, o r rathe r th e religiou s fair y tal e whic h h e ofte n murmured t o himself . Th e cathedral s i n whic h h e ha d dreamed, th e musi c o f Bach , fo r him , thi s wa s wha t Go d was. I t wa s a t thi s h e ha d sometime s crie d out , " I believe! " But h e kne w quit e wel l i t wa s no t enough . Th e torc h whic h burned i n him , th e flam e risin g u p towar d th e heights , fel l back a t eac h gus t o f wind wit h th e acri d fume s o f despair . When on e say s " I believe, " on e mus t sa y i t continually , and no t onl y a t moment s o f lyricism . On e mus t sa y it durin g the lea n time s tha t lif e dole s ou t t o all , eve n t o monks . On e

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must sa y i t fro m th e depth s o f th e dail y grind , sa y i t whe n one i s i n pain , whe n on e i s miserable , insignificant , sa y i t when tim e hang s o n one' s hands , whe n th e hear t beat s a t it s normal pace . On e mus t sa y i t a s thoug h on e wer e sayin g " I know," withou t weakening , withou t doubting , withou t tir ing, without gettin g impatien t a t th e slo w pac e o f lif e befor e the hou r o f death , th e blesse d hou r whe n on e cease s t o b e that paltr y thing : a human bein g . . . No vagu e aspiratio n quickl y forgotte n a t the slightest friv olous excuse . T o b e no t onl y a believer , bu t a Catholic , t o choose one' s nativ e religion , t o b e Catholi c a s on e i s French , as one bear s th e nam e o f one' s fathe r . . . "First I must g o an d find a priest," h e tol d himsel f coura geously. "Begi n a t the beginnin g . . . " But h e ha d see n mor e tha n enoug h priests . Wha t i f h e fell upo n a Philistin e wit h th e difficul t secre t h e ha d first to confide ! Books! Why no t tr y t o instruc t himsel f i n th e silenc e an d perfection o f th e written word ? He turned i n his chair t o look i n the appropriate direction . He kne w wher e t o find th e first boo k o f th e nigh t amon g th e leather-bound spine s which , lik e th e pipe s o f a grea t organ , surrounded hi s humble bedroom . Slowly he got up . He di d no t hav e t o searc h fo r lon g befor e h e put hi s han d on a small blac k book : th e Gospels . And, unde r hi s studiou s littl e lamp , h e bega n th e war rior's vigil. 1 I knew i t . . . S o many contradiction s . . . And it' s s o far fro m Catholicism! The Western graf t ha s mad e th e uncomplicate d

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Eastern tre e bring forth lofty , extravagan t flowers: th e cathe drals, the beauties o f worship, Rome an d its pure white Pop e who, seate d o n hi s throne wit h hi s tiara o n hi s head, seem s a direct descendan t o f Heliogabalus . I s ther e eve n a n allusio n to this in the words o f Jesus? The Protestant s woul d see m close r t o i t tha n w e are . Bu t then, how dry , an d wha t errin g foray s int o "freethinking" ! But I shoul d no t ge t discourage d s o quickly . Ther e ar e replies t o m y objections . I drea d hearin g the m o n th e bana l lips o f an y mediocr e priest . Firs t I shal l stud y th e liturgy , which I scarcely know . Ther e i s color, ther e i s poetry. With out tangibl e beaut y an d withou t arcan e wisdom , Protestant ism ha s nothin g t o attrac t me . I prefer absurdit y decke d ou t in gold, enveloped i n incense . Only incense , an d al l it s perfumes contain , migh t on e da y allow m e to becom e a Catholic . But ther e i s als o th e stud y o f theology , an d her e w e fal l int o complications an d extravagance . I am ou t o f m y depth . I try to clin g on . Catholicis m ha s bee n m y traditio n fo r centuries , it is one of the colors of my coat of arms. I love it atavisticall y before lovin g i t personally . A priest ! A pries t wh o know s how t o liste n to me , and the n respond ! Each Sunda y I g o t o Mas s i n m y paris h church . Al l i s beautiful fro m th e beaut y o f lon g centurie s whic h liv e o n i n the Sunda y ceremony ; al l i s beautifu l unti l th e momen t th e sermon begins ! Ouch ! W e fal l bac k int o th e secular , th e human, an d s o int o mediocrity . Betwee n th e two , i t i s a n unequal balance . Miserable dreamer , i t i s throug h humanit y an d it s drear y horror tha t on e mus t becom e an d remai n a believer . Bu t

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when on e ha s th e misfortun e o f bein g a poet, ho w har d i t i s to approac h th e sublim e b y s o man y smal l path s devoi d of charm ! To tak e char m int o consideratio n is , once again , t o mak e a to y o f th e thing s o f th e earth . Th e thing s o f th e eart h should b e n o mor e tha n wha t the y cal l the trial, a lon g penitence i n the shadows befor e th e joy o f th e ultimat e light . I would lik e t o writ e t o th e mon k wh o greete d u s s o warml y at Solesmes . Bu t I don't kno w hi s name . I could g o bac k t o Solesmes i n m y masculin e garb , an d alone . Bu t ho w d o I approach thi s monk ? An d ho w d o I kno w h e i s th e sou l I need? I a m frightened . An d eve n i f h e wa s th e sou l I need, ho w would I eve r dar e tel l hi m wh o I am ? Woul d the y eve r accept m e i n a men' s monaster y wit h th e feminin e elemen t contained withi n me ? Neithe r a Benedictin e monk , no r a Benedictine nun . Bot h door s wil l clos e befor e me—a s always. It is better no t t o g o bac k there . I shall roc k m y dream s o f monkhood fo r a long time like a fine secret to console myself. I don' t wan t t o spoi l that . I n m y drea m monaster y I can b e happy i n silence . Perhaps fat e wil l allo w m e suddenl y t o mee t th e pries t I need. At Mass I pray a s I may. And then I watch th e surplice s go by , an d I think , "Coul d thi s b e th e one ? Coul d thi s b e the one? " I was alread y mor e tha n chaste , bein g neuter . M y horro r o f the fles h becam e mor e pronounce d a s th e week s o f researc h went past .

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Nevertheless, I wa s oblige d t o wor k i f I didn' t wan t t o starve t o death , oblige d t o interrup t m y readin g an d medita tion t o ge t bac k t o a pag e i n a novel , a n ac t o f a play; I was obliged t o g o t o Ginette's , an d i n tha t writing , i n thos e eye s which me t m y own , ther e wa s onl y on e thing : th e flesh ! What nauseatin g meat-trade ! I woul d hav e like d t o se e n o one, I woul d hav e like d t o clos e mysel f u p i n m y burnin g desire to believe , my frenzie d studie s t o mak e mysel f believe . I hardl y slep t anymore . M y lowl y task s wer e over , I wa s going bac k t o m y books , t o as k the m fo r initiation , illumi nation . . . To n o avail , m y God ! Th e mor e I rea d th e furthe r I wa s from m y goal . Solesmes! Solesmes! Last winter Midalg e spok e to me of the little Dadaist poetess , Simone Luvedier (ofte n see n a t his house) wh o suddenl y con verted. One evenin g I took i t upo n mysel f t o g o t o tha t dissolut e studio. What a strok e o f light , I thought! That's wh o I need, and non e other . Wh y di d I no t thin k o f i t earlier ? Bu t Mi dalge must hav e lost sigh t of he r b y now. She must n o longe r frequent suc h places . Never mind ! Let's try . "Why m y dear , I shal l arrang e a rendez-vous! " Midalg e told me . And that' s ho w i t was . Thi s mornin g I wen t t o Simon e Luvedier's. I found he r a s made up as before, wearing extrav agant pajamas , surrounde d b y rare furnishings . Sh e spoke t o me abou t he r conversio n a s though i t were a literary matter , making ingeniou s comparison s i n a thousand prett y turn s o f phrase. He r musica l voic e sai d repeatedly , "Th e Thomists ,

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my dear!" 2 Sh e seeme d a t eas e i n th e subject , a s thoug h i n another pai r o f luxuriou s pajamas . Sh e i s preparin g a daz zling book, unde r th e auspice s of th e clergy. I got the impression sh e wa s bein g pampere d b y certai n element s i n th e religious world , lik e a n importan t littl e star . I left he r hous e in terror. Wha t shoul d I do? What wa s to becom e o f me ? Sensing tha t sh e woul d nee d t o tak e t o he r be d fo r a lon g time, he r bod y wracke d wit h exhaustio n an d fever , Mario n hurried t o retur n t o he r mor e comfortabl e apartmen t i n th e sixteenth. Mis s Hervi n woul d pa y dearl y fo r th e torment s o f the little Valdeclare . "What a conditio n Mademoisell e i s returnin g in! " Ma dame Creponne t exclaimed . "Th e Channe l crossin g mus t have bee n ba d thi s tim e round! " "Very ba d . . . " sai d Marion , wh o wa s faintin g wit h fa tigue. Miss Hervi n begge d th e concierg e t o bur n i n fron t o f he r the numerou s letter s an d telegram s fro m Laurett e whic h la y collecting dust . Fro m th e depth s o f he r bed , th e figure o n th e edge o f collaps e trie d t o smil e a t th e simpl e sou l wh o wa s shaking her head . "And t o thin k tha t Mademoisell e won' t se e a doctor! " "Nothing i n th e worl d coul d induc e me , Madam e Cre ponnet! I kno w ho w t o cur e myself . I nee d t o sleep , sleep . That's all . A s soo n a s I' m able , I'l l tr y t o ea t t o buil d u p m y strength. Yo u see , I don' t eve n smok e an y more . Bu t I hav e my little sleepin g pills. That's th e onl y thin g that'll sav e me. " "But a lad y ha s bee n her e twic e alread y whil e Mademoi selle was away . I f sh e comes bac k . . . "

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"You'll tel l her I' m stil l away . I don't wan t t o se e anyone . No on e a t all . Less even tha n u s u a l . . . " I must hav e somethin g lik e brai n fever , bu t I won't b e luck y enough t o di e of it . Solesmes! Solesmes! I am i n Hell. Quick , my pills. I'll take them with th e milk Madame Creponne t pu t there fo r th e night . Whe n I' m bac k o n m y feet , i f I recover, I must travel . Wh y no t reall y g o t o London , wher e I'v e neve r yet se t foot ? I wa s ver y wel l pai d fo r th e las t pla y I too k to Ginette . I hav e som e money . London . A goo d dos e o f Protestantism . . . Hai l Mar y . . . M y God , i f yo u exist , le t me se e you r light ! Di d Luvedier' s pajam a sui t loo k lik e Mi dalge's? . . . The littl e dark-haire d ma n nearl y thre w himsel f on hi s knees when I walked int o Midalge' s tha t evening . Bu t Laurette's letter s hav e bee n burn t an d he r visit s rejecte d i n advance . . . Luvedier' s pajam a sui t an d th e youn g monk' s white rob e . . . I would no t lik e to b e a Benedictine nu n . . . I thought I was a bo y unti l I was fiftee n year s old ! Solesmes ! Solesmes! Solesmes ! H e wil l becom e a Benedictin e . . . die tine, dictine, dictine . . . diet. . . Thank you , nothingness !

[ XII I ]

The nex t tim e Mis s Hervi n sa w Laurette , sh e was dresse d al l in white, on her fee t in her large salon. After mor e than seve n months o f silence and absence , she greeted Mis s Hervin with out a smile, holding ou t a n appl e sh e was munchin g instead , with th e scarcely audibl e words, "Tak e a bite! It's delicious! " She brough t th e appl e righ t u p t o Marion' s mouth , and , half-heartedly, Mario n bi t into it . "Your lip s are pale. Have you bee n il l all this time? " "Yes, a little." "In London? " "In London. " "But wh y di d yo u g o t o London , an d fo r suc h a lon g time?" sai d Mis s Wells, thinking abou t somethin g else . Marion di d no t reply . Sh e kne w th e interrogatio n woul d 187

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go n o further . Sh e ha d mad e u p he r min d t o com e becaus e the las t o f Laurette' s indefatigabl e note s read , "I f you'r e back, com e an d hav e lunc h a t Neuilly . I need yo u fo r a ne w trip t o Sarthe. " "Mademoiselle i s served . . . ," announce d th e valet . They wen t throug h t o th e dinin g room . Durin g lunch , served withou t brea d o r tableclot h a s always , the y spok e English. A s sh e attacke d th e plover' s eggs , Laurett e tol d Marion ho w sh e ha d jus t receive d som e poem s b y a n un known author , whic h seeme d t o he r beautiful . "You wil l rea d the m t o m e presently, Marion. " A little stranglin g soun d mad e Marion' s voic e soun d eve n odder tha n usual . "So you're goin g bac k t o Sarthe? " "Yes, tomorrow. Wil l you com e with me? " "Why not ? Ar e you bringin g anyon e else? " "No, Marion . N o on e bu t th e tw o o f us . It' s becaus e o f that ghastl y nurse . Aimee' s chil d fel l down , o r something . They plastere d hi m u p wrong . It'l l tak e a specialis t t o se t i t right, s o pots o f money . Bu t none of i t may b e true. I have t o go and tak e a look. " "And," Mario n controlle d herself , "d o yo u thin k w e wil l also go to . . . " "Your abbey ? Yes , if it pleases you. " "Why my abbey? " Mario n shivered . "Because yo u tol d m e i t wa s s o beautiful . I'l l tr y an d g o with yo u thi s time . Bu t w e wan t nothin g mor e t o d o wit h that disgustin g hotel . We'll g o to L e Mans." "We'll g o t o L e Man s . . . ," Mario n echoed , n o longe r aware o f what sh e was saying .

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She manage d t o ge t a gri p o f hersel f an d tal k o f othe r things. "You don' t wan t an y wine? " aske d Mis s Wells. "No. I don't drin k i t anymore. " When the y reache d dessert : "Here ar e the cigarettes , Marion. " "No than k you ! I don't smok e anymore. " "You don't ! How extraordinary ! Why? " "Tobacco i s a form o f slavery . I want t o b e free. " "And wha t d o you d o with s o much freedom? " "Oh! What d o I do with it! " Marion looke d away . Th e en d o f Novembe r darkene d th e bow-window wit h it s tracer y o f blac k branches , it s low , fleeting gray s * an d sudde n downpour . "It's cold, " sai d Laurette . "Tomorro w we'l l tak e th e sa loon car. " They mad e thei r journe y i n endles s rain , huddle d u p agains t each othe r unde r th e ca r rug , a hot-water bottl e a t thei r feet . They ha d lef t to o late . Nigh t fel l quickly . Th e headlamp s transformed th e gaunt , blac k countrysid e int o a luminou s fairyland. Laurette' s poeti c imaginatio n foun d som e rav ishing comparison s t o gree t thes e sights . Immerse d i n he r dream, Mario n barel y hear d her . He r hear t wa s beatin g lik e a love r i n legen d wh o i s goin g t o mee t hi s fiancee an d i s afraid, afrai d o f finding he r les s beautifu l tha n hi s memor y or, o n th e contrary , mor e beautifu l bu t read y t o sa y no . Fo r seven month s Solesme s ha d torture d hi s min d an d filled hi s soul. What woul d happe n afte r thi s secon d visit ? Sprin g wa s no longe r ther e t o wra p everythin g i n wonder , n o ceremon y

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was bein g prepare d i n th e basilisk . N o Easte r splendor . Th e monastery i n its strict dail y routine, nothing more . "So much th e better ! . . . I t will be closer t o the truth! " It would no t b e difficul t t o find th e mon k again , lear n hi s name. Then letter s would b e exchanged. The n . . . "The littl e drop s o n th e window s ar e mor e beautifu l tha n my opals. " "How true , Laurette! " "Look a t the blue grotto we're drivin g into. We're headin g toward th e home o f th e mermaids. " "Yes, the home of the mermaids, Laurette. I can hear the m calling from afa r . . . " But i t wa s L e Man s the y stoppe d at , an d Mis s Well s became irritabl e an d shrewis h a s soo n a s sh e opene d th e door o f th e hotel . "I assur e you , Marion , it' s bette r t o g o t o th e nurse' s hous e first. Night will not yet have fallen whe n we reach Solesmes. " There was nothin g t o d o bu t obey . Bitterly Mario n regret ted no t bein g maste r o f car , time , an d whim . Th e chauffeu r had n o troubl e finding th e littl e hous e again . Withou t th e flowering tree s i n th e littl e garden , i t looke d siniste r a t th e bottom o f th e mudd y hollo w unde r th e ceaseles s rain . An noyed a t havin g t o wal k acros s th e mud , Laurett e bega n t o prepare he r ic y thunderbolts . Widow Lagne l cam e t o th e door , dumbfounde d a t th e sight o f th e tw o o f them . Th e ceaseles s activit y o f th e chil dren, a smel l o f humidit y an d war m iro n fro m th e sheet metal o f th e roof , th e oozin g o f th e walls , th e squalo r o f this dwelling , whic h wa s to o smal l fo r s o man y people , th e chiaroscuro wit h whic h thei r povert y wa s permeated, cause d

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Miss Well s t o bac k awa y an d utte r a thoroughl y Anglo Saxon "Ugh! " The nurs e wa s alread y talkin g loudly , anticipatin g th e nasty remark s t o come . "The childre n ar e no t a t schoo l becaus e th e tw o oldes t have cold s an d th e othe r thre e ar e to o smal l t o g o b y them selves. It's fa r fro m here , see , an d nigh t come s o n quickl y a t home time . So , wit h th e weathe r bein g wha t i t i s an d the m forced t o sta y indoors , it' s no t surprisin g they'v e pu t th e house i n thi s state . Th e ladie s kno w wha t childre n ar e like . I've jus t washe d th e floor . Tha t doesn' t hel p any . I f I ha d known yo u wer e coming , everythin g woul d b e better , o f course, and littl e Pierre's be d would b e a bit whiter tha n i t is. But there' s tw o o f the m slee p i n i t a t night , an d we'r e no t rich people a s can affor d t o chang e the sheets every day. " "It's whe n we'r e no t her e tha t i t shoul d b e clean! " Laur ette interrupted , tryin g t o ge t a wor d in . " I se e you hav e n o idea o f hygiene ! Yo u ear n enoug h wit h th e foste r chil d no t to liv e in a stable. Where i s he?" "There . . . ," th e woma n pointed , sour-faced , read y t o defend herself . "Two i n thi s be d a t night , yo u say? " Laurett e repeated . "Two o f the m i n thi s dirt ? An d he' s ill ? Wha t exactl y i s wrong with him? " "He neve r go t bac k hi s strengt h sinc e h e fel l of f o f th e ladder an d th e docto r fro m roun d her e plastered hi m up. " "He's stil l i n plaster? " Laurett e asked , lookin g wit h dis tant disgus t a t th e pale little thing lying helpless o n th e bed . "No, h e ain' t n o more! " th e nurs e sai d aggressively . "Bu t he's non e the bette r fo r that . A s for gettin g hi m t o put a foo t on th e ground , don' t eve n think abou t it . That's wh y I wrote

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that th e docto r sai d onl y a specialis t woul d b e abl e t o se t him right. " "And that' s wh y we've come! " Laurett e replie d severely . The woman crosse d he r arms , surrounded b y her attentiv e but jigglin g brood . On e o f th e littl e girl s touche d Mis s Wells's fur . "Can't yo u sen d you r childre n away ? Ther e ar e too man y for me. " "And wher e d o yo u wan t m e t o sen d the m i n thi s cold ? This is the onl y roo m that' s heated. " Marion, whos e dream s were constricte d b y al l this reality , sat dow n resignedl y o n th e chai r sh e foun d nea r th e sic k child's bed . The other s wer e stil l standing up . "Given wha t Laurette' s like , we'l l b e her e fo r ove r a n hour. We'l l neve r reac h Solesme s befor e nightfall. " Her foo t drumme d impatientl y o n th e floorboard s sur rounded b y the children' s din . The shril l voice of the peasan t woman ros e abov e everything . "You've com e her e t o quarre l wit h me , I ca n tell ! Bu t I won't le t myself b e browbeaten b y you . . . " Laurette starte d u p a t th e sam e time , "I f you'r e goin g t o be insolent int o th e bargain , I shall hav e the m prov e yo u ar e responsible fo r everything . Firs t of all, how di d that littl e bo y fall fro m a ladder a t thre e years old? " The tw o voice s blende d int o eac h othe r lik e th e nois e o f battle. After a quarter o f a n hour o f violent argument , a little girl began t o howl . At tha t momen t Mario n started . Sh e had jus t bee n think ing, "T o lov e God! To hav e suc h a friend—God! " A little feverish han d place d itsel f o n hers and nearl y mad e

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her cr y out . Th e contac t surprise d an d disguste d her . A s sh e quickly pulle d bac k he r fingers , fro m th e depth s o f th e be d near whic h sh e wa s sitting , sh e hear d th e smal l voic e sa y weakly, " I love you, I do . . ." She turne d he r head . Aime e d e Lagres' s son , immobilize d on hi s filth y pillow , wa s lookin g a t he r wit h hi s great golde n eyes, a littl e fearful , bu t magnetize d b y th e onl y bein g i n th e fray wh o remaine d silent , s o silent besid e his bed . Sudden pit y tor e he r fro m he r mut e prayer . "Bor n o f unknown parentag e . . . ," sh e thought . "Poo r littl e aristo crat throw n int o thi s lice-ridde n bed , i n th e middl e o f thi s coarse family , an d h e doesn' t eve n kno w h e is a victim . . . " She ben t ove r an d stare d a t th e sic k child , withou t think ing o f replyin g t o hi s touchin g littl e declaration . Sh e di d no t understand children , ha d neve r looke d a t an y clos e up . "Injustice . . . ," sh e continued . "Monstrou s egotism , in iquity!" The littl e boy , bothere d b y her starin g eyes, raised hi s ar m to hi s face s o that h e should no t se e her an y more . "Fine, then! " Laurett e wa s summin g u p i n a quive r o f rage. "A s I driv e bac k throug h L e Man s I shal l g o an d se e the specialist . H e wil l com e an d examin e th e chil d an d sen d his bill to me . You shan' t hav e the money. " "Mama! Mama! " yelle d th e children . The crampe d wall s wer e fille d wit h th e increase d racket . Laurette's shoulder s shifte d highe r an d higher . Th e nurse' s face becam e hideous . How lon g di d th e scen e go on? Finally : "Come, Marion ! W e won' t sta y her e a minut e longer ! I t smells too ba d an d it' s to o ugly! "

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Widow Lagne l close d th e doo r o n the m withou t darin g to sla m i t openly . I n th e dar k littl e garden , th e rai n wen t on falling . As soon a s they were in the car, Laurette exclaimed , "An d t o think tha t no w Aime e ha s returne d t o th e straigh t an d nar row, sh e no longe r see s me for fea r he r husban d find out! " Her shor t angr y laug h despise d th e whole o f humanity . "That chil d wil l die, " Mis s Well s wen t on . "Whic h i s th e best thing tha t coul d happe n t o him. " "We mus t tak e hi m awa y fro m there, " sai d Marion . "It' s simply horrible. " "Then wher e would w e put him?" retorted Laurett e dryly . "Do yo u wan t t o tak e him? " Marion couldn' t sto p hersel f laughing . The nois e o f th e engin e an d th e stick y soun d o f th e tire s on th e wet roadwa y ros e abov e th e rather hostil e silence . A littl e late r Mis s Hervi n aske d timidly , "Ar e w e stil l going to Solesmes? " "I promised yo u w e would!" Laurett e grunted . Before th e thir d turning , nigh t bega n t o fal l wit h th e rain . From momen t t o moment , Marion' s resentmen t gre w worse . Laurette's obstinac y i n insistin g o n first goin g t o se e th e nurse, whe n i t wa s onl y logica l t o star t a t th e abbey , filled her wit h a n indignatio n borderin g o n hatred . "Sh e alway s makes u s miss everything! " Laurette, a s testy a s Marion, kep t quiet , he r silenc e ful l o f interminable reproaches . The headlamp s wen t on . "It's no t wort h goin g anymore! " Mario n exclaime d grimly. "You coul d hav e sai d s o earlier! "

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"I tol d yo u whe n w e se t off . W e shoul d hav e gon e t o Solesmes first. " "Solesmes was les s important tha n th e other business. " Concentrating o n remainin g distant , the y di d no t loo k a t each other . "You don' t nee d dayligh t t o pic k a quarrel , yo u nee d i t t o visit a church. " "Yes, but visitin g a churc h i s an extr a on e ca n d o withou t if need be. " "With two-cents-wort h o f organization , w e coul d ver y well have don e both. " "I firs t accomplishe d wha t I cam e for . I' m no t kee n o n putting mysel f ou t fo r nothing. " "You woul d no t hav e pu t yoursel f ou t fo r nothing , w e would hav e don e bot h thing s i n time. " "I call being in time arriving at exactly the right moment. " "The momen t woul d hav e bee n th e sam e a n hou r an d a half later. " "We didn' t kno w that . Wido w Lagne l migh t no t hav e been in. " "How absurd ! Where migh t sh e have been , then? " "Do yo u kno w wha t he r habit s are? " "I don' t nee d t o kno w he r habits . Her hous e i s miles fro m anywhere an d i t was pouring wit h rain. " "Precisely." "Precisely what? " "She could hav e gon e shopping. " "Shopping a t tha t time , i n th e country , an d a t thi s seaso n of th e year? " "One doe s one' s shoppin g whe n on e can , eve n i n th e country."

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"Don't mak e m e laugh! After al l this, we won't b e abl e t o see a thing. " "We sa w what w e needed t o see. " "Then tel l your chauffeu r t o g o back t o Paris. " "This i s a fine time , no w tha t you'v e mad e u s mak e thi s useless detour! " "It would no t hav e bee n a detour i f we had starte d here. " "But i t would hav e bee n wrong t o star t here! " Marion's hand s wer e shaking . Mis s Well s wen t on . Onl y silence replied. Whe n th e ca r finally stopped , sh e said, "Wel l then, her e we are ! Are you satisfied? " The chauffeu r opene d th e doo r i n th e blac k downpour ; from he r sea t i n th e shadows , Mario n caugh t sigh t o f th e wicket gat e whic h le d t o th e monastery . Ho w coul d sh e rin g at thi s time , withou t a nam e t o give ? An d eve n i f the y wen t to fetc h a monk, wha t shoul d sh e say to him ? "Well? . . . Aren' t yo u goin g t o ge t out? " Laurett e aske d in exasperation . Marion slamme d th e doo r shu t again . "No! Can' t yo u se e it would b e ridiculous? " "What's ridiculou s i s makin g u s driv e ou t her e fo r nothing!" Marion lowere d th e window i n front . "To Paris! " sh e ordered th e driver . And Laurett e coul d surel y no t imagin e wha t blea k despai r those two word s contained .

[XIV]

Miss Hervi n wa s awakene d wit h a star t nex t mornin g b y a telegram whic h ha d bee n writte n ou t th e previou s day . Sh e had onl y jus t got t o slee p afte r a feverish night . "Laurette i s really to o hateful. " Tearing ope n th e envelop e wit h a gestur e tha t coul d kill , she read, "A . should kno w al l the same . See to it. " After hour s o f prostration , a furiou s iron y revitalize d her . She hurried throug h he r toilette . And laughe d wit h rage . As soon a s she was ready , sh e sat a t her littl e desk . Her reply : "Se e to i t yourself. No time. " She was abou t t o ge t up an d ru n t o the post office . Bu t sh e stayed slumpe d i n he r chair , th e pal m o f he r han d ove r her eyes . Wasn't i t bette r t o smok e cigarette s an d drin k win e tha n 197

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to le t th e spiri t o f vengeanc e hav e it s wa y a t th e firs t prompting? Slowly sh e tor e u p he r piec e o f paper . Wit h a n indescrib able effort, al l her facultie s strov e to let mercy into her heart , and eve n penitence . It wa s certainl y mor e beautiful , mor e productiv e tha n a visit to Solesmes . Charity i s no t a them e fo r meditation , bu t fo r practica l acts. By subtle casuistry, it was necessary to prove the follow ing: tha t Laurette , wit h al l he r vices , her churlis h metho d o f doing good , an d he r perpetua l irritation , displaye d mor e altruism tha n Marion , th e futur e Benedictine . Onl y th e tota l counted, afte r th e first tw o addition s ha d bee n made. On on e side: immediat e hel p t o th e sic k child , perfectl y disintereste d actions towar d th e ungratefu l Aimee ; on th e other: th e plea sure o f embracin g a drea m b y acceptin g th e kin d offe r o f a place in a car . "I didn't se e anything, bu t th e intention wa s ther e . . . " Sighing hugely , Mario n manage d t o persuad e herself . I t was for he r to bo w low an d giv e thanks fo r th e fine example . And ho w coul d sh e giv e thank s i f no t b y fulfillin g th e favo r asked o f her, a favor that , furthermore , concerne d onc e agai n the little tot whos e lif e was i n danger ? "For h e will di e . . . , " Mis s Hervi n pronounce d ou t loud , as she picked u p he r hat . She wa s struc k b y thi s lac k o f rea l pit y fo r th e poo r littl e martyr. Ami d th e agitatio n an d irritatio n o f th e previou s day, onl y on e tende r wor d ha d bee n spoken , o n th e lip s of a three yea r old , fro m th e depth s o f a be d o f sickness : " I lov e you, I do . . . " Yet no response , no smil e recognized thi s sweetness. Wha t

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lack o f courtesy ! Wha t disappointment , perhaps , fo r th e baby! "I lov e you , I d o . . ." Tha t wa s wort h th e journey ; fo r this wa s th e first tim e innocen t lip s ha d sai d suc h a thin g t o the "unfortunat e individual " al l alon e i n th e world , sur rounded b y degenerates . An d ye t i t had take n a line of argu ment a s laboriou s a s a mathematica l calculatio n t o allo w those five words int o he r heart . Tears? He r ha t thrus t roughl y dow n aroun d he r eyes, Miss Hervin hurrie d ou t t o fulfil l th e missio n entruste d t o he r by Laurette . Before takin g u p watc h agai n a s sh e ha d durin g Talliard' s days, sh e ha d th e ver y simpl e ide a o f goin g first t o find ou t whether Madam e d e Lagres was in Paris . During th e bu s journe y towar d th e Plain e Monceau , sh e forced hersel f t o di g mor e deepl y int o wha t sh e ha d dis covered. "It's n o longe r a questio n o f actin g a s go-betwee n i n th e dubious sag a o f thre e idl e women, bu t th e lif e o f a n unfortu nate little human being. " And sh e wa s amaze d t o realiz e thi s fact , whic h ha d no t struck he r before . Wha t a seriou s tur n th e craz y adventur e had taken ! She was gradually filled with th e sensation o f bending ove r an abyss which ha d suddenl y opene d u p in front o f her. The n came a terrible question . Who exactl y wa s responsibl e fo r thi s three-year-ol d mis ery, abandone d i n th e depth s o f a hove l i n Sarthe ? Wh o ha d decided tha t t o sav e Aime e d e Lagres , a n uninterestin g littl e doll, her chil d shoul d b e sacrificed ?

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At th e tim e al l thre e o f yo u considere d i t a shamefu l sickness, a kind o f tumo r tha t on e get s removed i n hiding b y an unknow n doctor . Bu t no w it' s born , no w i t talks, it feels , it will gro w up , becom e a man—if i t doesn' t di e in a coupl e of month s . . . An d i f i t die s i n a coupl e o f months ? Wh o then wil l be the real killer of thi s life that' s jus t beginning ? Her hea d hel d low , Mario n wen t throug h th e carriag e en trance o f th e buildin g where Aimee lived . "Monsieur an d Madam e d e Lagres ? . . . They'v e bee n i n Egypt fo r a mont h . . . Whe n wil l the y b e back ? W e don' t know. I think they'r e goin g to th e East Indie s after that. " "Thank yo u . . . ," Mario n sai d a s sh e close d th e doo r t o the concierge's lodge . And bac k i n th e stree t sh e bega n t o wal k quickly , bitin g her lips . Laurette, who wa s stil l at lunch, was amaze d t o se e her wal k in looking a s she did . "You hav e no t ye t eaten , I hope. Si t down . I'l l hav e the m bring the dishe s back. " "No! I don' t wan t anythin g t o eat ! Laurette , somethin g very seriou s i s happening, " Mario n sai d i n English , empha sizing her words . "Firs t o f all , we didn't g o bac k t o L e Man s to se e that specialis t yesterday, an d th e child is still pinned t o his dirt y bed . It' s m y faul t mor e tha n yours . I nagge d yo u and go t o n you r nerve s an d yo u forgo t everythin g els e in th e quarrel. Jus t now , whe n I go t you r message , I wen t t o find out the whereabouts o f the de Lagres. They're bot h of f t o th e back o f beyon d fo r months . S o . . . ? "

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Marion wa s s o pal e Laurett e bega n t o watc h he r closel y without replying . Abruptl y Laurett e stoo d up . "Lie dow n . . . ," sh e said, catchin g Marion jus t in time . Miss Hervi n reopene d he r eye s i n Laurette' s arms . Sh e ha d been lai d dow n o n a sofa , i n a corne r o f th e bow-window , and th e chambermai d wa s wettin g he r temple s wit h vinega r while the valet hel d th e bowl . "How stupi d . . . ," sh e murmured . Then sh e closed he r eyelid s agai n becaus e th e dining roo m was spinnin g roun d an d round . "Come now , Marion , come , come! " Laurett e sai d softly , patting he r hands . Gradually th e weakness wor e off . "I be g your pardo n . . . I beg your pardo n . . . " "Oh, yo u gav e m e suc h a fright! " Mis s Well s sighed , smiling to se e her com e round . "Would Mademoisell e lik e th e drive r t o g o an d ge t a doctor?" "No! No! " replie d Marion , tryin g t o ge t up . "It' s noth ing—quite ove r now! " A momen t later , reclinin g ami d a pil e o f cushion s an d alone wit h Laurette , Mario n said , "Don' t thin k abou t tha t absurd faintin g fit a momen t longer . Yo u mus t liste n t o me, Laurette . W e canno t leav e tha t chil d wher e h e is . It' s simply criminal. " "Darling . . . ," Laurett e whispered . "You'r e stil l s o pale . You shoul d loo k afte r yourself . Yo u haven' t looke d wel l since yo u go t back . Yo u tol d m e you' d bee n ill ? Wha t wa s it? What wa s wron g wit h you? "

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"Nothing, I assur e you ! A little over-exertion . Won' t yo u listen t o me? " "I'll d o whatever wil l make you happy. " "Then let' s g o bac k there . We'l l tak e th e specialis t fro m Le Mans, o r someon e else , to the Widow Lagnel's . That littl e boy need s medica l attentio n a s soo n a s possible. Perhaps th e doctor wil l have a clinic we can pu t hi m in? " Miss Wells tossed he r head , stiff-backe d al l of a sudden . "Aimee i s to o much! " sh e snapped , he r eye s hard . "Sh e waltzes of f acros s th e worl d an d leave s al l th e problem s to us. " She considered a moment . "You don' t thin k he r chil d woul d b e better of f i n a publi c orphanage?" "Maybe. Yes , I thin k h e woul d . . . Bu t firs t h e ha s t o be healed. " "Healed, t o d o what ? Perhap s i t was—Providence, i s tha t what yo u cal l it?—whic h mad e hi m fal l s o tha t h e woul d die?" "Oh! Laurette! " At this Mario n sa t straigh t up . "A chil d i s no t a littl e do g o r a littl e ca t t o b e drowne d because it' s go t the mange! " "Unfortunately," sai d Laurett e wit h grea t cruelty . Marion wa s o n he r feet . "When Aime e get s bac k I'l l d o everythin g I ca n t o spea k with he r an d pu t he r i n th e picture , ge t a decisio n fro m her , some money . . . But, I repeat, i n the meantim e . . . " "You kno w ver y wel l tha t I will alway s suppl y th e mone y since I promise d I would, " Laurett e said , takin g offense . "Why ar e you bringin g tha t up? "

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"Forgive me , Laurette , I kno w wha t a bric k yo u are . Bu t you don' t realiz e (an d I didn't realiz e eithe r unti l thi s morn ing) tha t amon g th e thre e of us , we've don e somethin g crimi nal wit h tha t unfortunat e child . An d I am th e guilties t o f all , I who too k car e o f everythin g a s thoug h i t wer e a wretche d piece of theater. " "Now, now , Marion , now , now ! . . . Don't inven t reason s for u s t o reproac h ourselves ! We'l l g o bac k there , sinc e you're se t on it . (We'l l end u p attractin g attentio n i n Sarthe! ) Wait a moment ! I'v e though t o f something ! We'll brin g tha t young man , yo u kno w th e one , th e youn g schola r you'v e seen a t m y hous e a fe w times . He' s goin g t o b e a grea t surgeon on e day , apparentl y . . . That' s it ! . . . I'v e go t i t now. Le t m e arrange it . He'll tel l us where to put th e child t o recover, i f he can recover . Afterwards , well , we'll see! " "I neve r woul d hav e thought, " sh e wen t o n wit h he r prettiest laugh , "tha t I would hav e to spen d s o much tim e o n a nurs e an d a smal l child . Th e searc h fo r paternit y i s a fine thing! A mos t unexpecte d . . . an d mos t vexin g metho d o f playing th e man! " She grew seriou s again . "Are you satisfied? " Hands entwined , "Darlin g . . . ," sh e sai d onc e mor e ver y softly, wit h a twitch o f he r lef t eyebrow . This ne w journe y presente d s o man y complication s tha t i n the en d i t coul d no t b e decide d upo n unti l th e 20t h o f De cember. "Why no t wai t unti l th e 24t h . . . ," suggeste d Laurette . "We coul d g o t o midnigh t Mas s a t Solesme s a t th e sam e time. Tha t mus t b e eve n bette r tha n Easter . An d anywa y i t

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would b e fu n t o spen d Ne w Year' s Ev e somewher e othe r than Paris. " "Yes, midnigh t Mas s . . . ," Mario n mused , closin g he r eyes. But with a heroic effort sh e sacrificed th e beautiful mirage . "No, no ! We sai d th e 20th , let' s stick t o th e 20th! " On th e seventeent h sh e wa s o n foot , walkin g alon g a shabby stree t in the cold, lost in thought . The little Christma s tree , all alone, with it s lighted candle s and it s tinsel , sittin g i n th e humbl e sho p window , seeme d t o have th e wonder s o f childhoo d an d th e naiv e imager y o f Christmas hangin g fro m it s short branches ; an d wit h modes t eloquence, fro m th e mis t o f centuries , th e penn y toys , th e stars, th e balls , th e painte d suga r top s whic h adorne d it , amid picture s o f hoa r fros t an d son s o f th e Virgin , i t retol d the ancien t miracl e o f ever y year . Marion stoppe d shor t i n he r track s an d gaze d a t it . Th e pain i n he r heart , whic h hur t s o much a t the end o f th e year , sent he r abruptl y bac k int o th e ski n o f th e littl e bo y o f lon g ago deprive d o f th e universa l joy , burie d i n hi s ghastl y chateau i n the Northern beetfields . "How happ y th e chil d who get s that a s a present! " Her han d o n he r mouth , sh e skipped a breath . "Oh! What a n idea! " A few seconds later she went into the shop. In a moment — the tim e i t too k t o replac e th e worn-ou t candle s wit h ne w ones—she cam e bac k out , th e awkwar d bundl e i n her arms , a littl e shamefaced , a littl e joyful , a littl e melancholy ; an d her eye s searched hopelessl y fo r th e chanc e tax i whic h migh t be passing b y there t o tak e he r hom e again .

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"What's that? " Laurett e demande d i n vexation . They ha d ha d t o ge t u p early . Naturall y sh e wa s i n a bad temper . "Why tha t look s jus t lik e a Christma s tree! " sai d th e young intern . "That's wha t i t i s . .. , " Mario n acknowledged , he r hea d bowed. "You're no t takin g tha t t o th e littl e boy, ar e you?" "Yes, Laurette, I am! " "In th e first place , it' s goin g t o ge t i n th e wa y i n th e car . We won' t b e abl e t o mov e ou r feet . An d i n th e secon d place, it's ridiculous to accusto m that chil d to presents. Leave it here!" "Oh! Laurette! . .. I beg you! " With ba d grace , Mis s Well s le t hersel f b e moved . Throughout th e whol e trip , th e littl e tree , which too k u p s o much space , wa s t o b e th e heavensen t focu s o f he r angr y muttering. After a n hour, th e veins in Marion's temple s wer e ready t o burst . Nonetheless , sh e kep t smiling , determine d t o put a brave fac e o n it . The little doctor wa s enjoyin g himself . He ha d a handsome , seriou s fac e an d merr y eyes . Sittin g between th e tw o friends , h e was perhap s tryin g t o penetrat e the myster y o f th e outin g h e wa s bein g take n on . Someon e had brough t hi m t o Mis s Wells' s hous e on e da y an d h e ha d often gon e back , appreciating , a s di d al l thos e o f refine d taste, her uniqu e personality . Surprise. Th e hous e wa s clean , th e childre n wer e clean , Widow Lagne l was al l smiles . "Unexpected visit s hav e don e yo u good! " Laurett e pro -

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nounced immediately , almos t disappointe d b y thi s atmo sphere in which he r scoldin g had n o place . Left behin d i n th e car , th e Christma s tre e wa s waitin g t o make it s royal entrance . Little Pierre , stretche d ou t a s wel l a s h e coul d o n tw o chairs nex t t o th e stove , devoure d th e invadin g three some wit h hi s eyes . Th e othe r childre n cam e bac k i n from th e garden , but , well-schooled , di d no t spea k o r ru n about. "This i s th e sic k littl e la d i n question , I believe ! H e cer tainly doe s look delicate! " The inter n cam e forward , ver y professional . "When di d h e fall? " His clinical interrogation receive d precis e replies an d "yes , doctors," emphasizin g th e ver y prope r attitud e o f th e foste r mother. "He mus t b e lai d o n th e be d an d undressed . I' m goin g t o examine him. " The littl e boy bega n t o cr y out i n fear . "Don't b e scared! " repeate d th e learne d youn g ma n gen tly. "I' m no t goin g to hur t you. " But little Pierre calle d fo r help , his arms thrashin g about . "Aunt Lagnel ! . . . Aunt Lagnel! " "Send th e other s away . Ther e ar e to o man y peopl e i n here!" "Did yo u hea r wha t th e Docto r said ? Scram ! The Docto r is going to examin e you r littl e cousin. " And th e gan g wen t meekl y bac k t o th e garden . I t wasn' t raining. Side b y sid e a t th e hea d o f th e bed , Laurett e an d Mario n craned thei r necks .

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"Now, now , Pierrot ! . . . B e quiet ! . . . Le t m e undres s you! The Docto r i s no t a nast y man . I'l l giv e yo u a piec e o f sugar. Kee p calm ! . . . There , ther e . . . D o yo u wan t a smack? Aunty'1 1 lose her temper! " Miss Hervi n steppe d forward . "Listen, littl e Pierre ! Don' t yo u recogniz e me ? Yo u don' t remember wha t yo u tol d m e las t time ? . . . Giv e m e you r hand . . . That' s right ! I f you'r e goo d you'l l ge t somethin g beautiful. Le t me show yo u wha t i t is." She turned towar d Wido w Lagnel . "Go an d tel l the chauffeu r t o brin g what's i n the car. " "What a good idea, " murmure d th e intern . Seeing his foster mothe r g o out, th e chil d wailed . Laurette shrugged . "He prefer s tha t harp y t o us. " "He's thre e year s ol d . . . ," remarke d th e intern . Marion spran g forward. Losin g its little stars, clinking an d getting stuc k i n th e narro w doorway , th e Christma s tre e made it s appearance . Sh e too k i t fro m th e hand s o f th e chauffeur, followe d b y a dazzle d Wido w Lagne l an d th e clamor o f th e childre n i n the garden . "Look, littl e Pierre, look! It's fo r you! " The child' s eyes , stil l submerge d i n tear s a s thoug h i n a golden pool , becam e immense . He mad e a n effor t t o si t up . "Look a t i t closely ! It's a Christma s tree . Yo u kno w wha t a Christma s tre e is ? No ? . . . D o yo u se e th e stars ? D o yo u see th e candles ? D o yo u se e th e toys ? . . . An d that ! . . . And that! " Swiftly hi s clothe s cam e off . "Look again ! Look again , little Pierre! It's yours. Just no w we'll ligh t th e candles . Christma s tree s ar e beautiful , aren' t

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they? You r littl e cousin s wil l b e comin g i n an d yo u ca n giv e them wha t yo u want . Won' t tha t b e fun? " Lying nake d o n th e bed , havin g hi s lung s examined , hi s pulse examined , hi s leg s manipulated , littl e Pierr e said , "Al l that fo r littl e Pierre? . . . Really?" "Yes, ye s the y are! " sai d th e nurse . "Sa y than k yo u t o the dadame! " "Thank you , Dadame! . . . Oh, thos e little tops! Give littl e Pierre one , Dadame! " "Just now ! Just now ! Don't yo u thin k it' s pretty? " "Yes, it pretty! " "Look! Yo u haven' t see n thi s yet . D o yo u se e it , unde r this branch? " "What i s it?" "I think it' s a whistle. " "A whistle?" "Yes. And that , what's that? " "It's a wa-wa. " "And t h a t ? . . . An d t h a t ? . . . " Marion hurrie d on , sayin g th e firs t thin g tha t cam e int o her hea d t o ge t th e child' s attention . Th e tre e wa s heav y i n her hands . Fro m betwee n th e branches , whic h scratche d a t her face , sh e watched th e baby's spellboun d expressions . "I'm finished!" th e inter n announce d abruptly , standin g up. Marion pu t th e tree on th e table . "Well?" "There i s absolutel y nothin g wron g wit h thi s child . Hi s leg got stif f i n th e plaster , that' s all . After hi s fall , h e shoul d have bee n graduall y force d t o walk ; instea d . . . Bu t we'r e

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Z09

going t o ge t hi m t o d o physiotherapy , an d i n a mont h i t won't sho w anymore. " "Oh!" al l the voices rejoiced . "But h e ha s a fragile , highly-strun g littl e natur e . . . He'l l need . . . " "Dadame? . . . Dadame?" "What, m y sweet? " sai d Marion , bendin g swiftl y ove r the bed . The baby' s arm s seize d he r neck . I n he r ea r cam e a whis per filled with despair . "Your Kissmas s tree , are you gon e ta tak e i t back again? " Marion close d he r eyelid s tightl y ove r th e sudde n rus h o f tears an d hi d he r fac e i n little Pierre's neck . "Take i t awa y again ? . . . Oh ! Ho w coul d yo u thin k suc h a thing ? . . . You poo r littl e thing! . . . Poor littl e thing! "

[XV]

The retur n journe y unde r th e headlamp s di d no t inspir e Laurette's prett y images . Full of practicality now , she wanted to kno w ho w th e recommende d treatmen t woul d b e fol lowed. Physiotherap y require d a lightnes s o f touc h whic h one coul d hardl y expec t fro m Mothe r Lagnel . Sh e coul d cripple the chil d b y trying t o go too fast . The y ha d forbidde n her t o tr y anythin g unti l sh e received furthe r orders . "What woul d yo u d o wit h hi m i n my place? " "That's a ver y thorn y question , Mademoiselle . I t doesn' t look lik e he shoul d sta y wher e h e is, especially i n his stat e of anchylosis. I f h e wer e well , Lord , i t migh t stil l do . Tha t woman doesn' t see m t o ill-trea t him , h e i s i n th e fres h air . But you sa w what happened . With tha t band o f unsupervise d urchins aroun d h e coul d wel l suffe r somethin g mor e seriou s 211

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than a blow . An d th e medica l attentio n h e receive d . . . I t would b e useful t o kno w th e local doctors . . . We don't hav e time. I hav e t o b e a t m y hospita l tomorro w mornin g . . . That chil d shoul d b e neare r Paris , unde r you r supervision . We migh t b e abl e t o find anothe r foste r mothe r . . . The n there ar e the orphanages . . . " "An orphanage ! . . . That's it! " Laurett e exclaimed , jump ing on whateve r ide a cam e alon g a s usual. There followe d a lon g incoheren t interrogatio n t o whic h the young ma n trie d hi s best to respond . Imperceptibly th e conversatio n change d course . Mario n said nothing . In th e outskirt s o f Pari s th e inter n bega n t o recit e som e poems b y Valery . A s th e ca r pulle d int o th e garde n i n Neu illy, thei r arriva l interrupte d hi m i n th e middl e o f a sonne t by Mallarme . "You wil l din e wit h us! " announce d Laurette . "Th e ca r will drive you bac k afterwards. " He did no t demur . As Marion an d Laurett e went u p t o th e bathroom, leavin g hi m i n th e larg e salon , the y hear d hi m playing Debussy's Arabesque o n th e piano . "Here's th e powder , th e rouge , an d al l th e rest . . . , " Laurette said . "H e doesn' t pla y badly , tha t youn g man . Bu t too naivel y infatuate d wit h modernism . I fear h e ma y b e a n indifferent snob . Here's som e water fo r you r hands. " The chambermai d disappeared . "Laurette," sai d Mis s Hervin. "Wil l you giv e him t o me? " "Give you what , Marion?" a "Aimee's littl e boy. " Laurette's lip s twitche d u p a t th e corner s i n mirth . Sh e looked a t Mis s Hervin, an d didn' t laugh .

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"What d o yo u mean? " "Oh! Laurette, if you onl y knew! " "Marion! You? " Laurette claspe d he r i n her arms , holding her tigh t agains t her breast , a powde r puf f stil l i n he r hand . Downstair s th e music stopped . "Marion! Marion ! I be g you , don' t so b lik e that ! I don' t know wh o yo u are ! I know nothin g o f you r lif e . . . Why di d you sa y tha t jus t now ? . . . That littl e bo y . . . Did yo u hav e a chil d . . . who m you'v e lost ? No ? . . . Forgiv e m e . . . I' m talking nothin g bu t foolishness , naturall y . . . This is the firs t time you've bee n human wit h m e . . . I love you s o much! " Marion staggere d a s sh e wa s le d gentl y towar d a chai r where sh e slumpe d dow n i n fron t o f th e make-u p pot s an d the three-winge d mirror . He r strang e boyis h fac e leane d against Mis s Well s wh o stoo d behin d her . The y coul d bot h see themselves reflecte d ful l fac e an d i n profile . "You ar e s o beautiful . . . ," Laurett e murmure d a s sh e gazed a t her i n the mirror . The sobs had quickl y stopped . Marion carefull y wipe d he r eyelids, readjustin g th e blac k whic h ha d bee n smeare d b y her tears . "Your eye s . . . You r eye s whic h refus e t o sho w they'v e been cryin g . . . They're alread y dr y . . . " In a sweepin g gesture , Mis s Hervi n turne d awa y fro m th e mirrors, bendin g a little s o that sh e coul d contemplat e Laur ette fro m hea d t o foot . Sh e seize d Laurette' s wrist s i n bot h hands. "Marion? Wha t ? . . . Yo u wan t m e t o gues s everything ? . . . Wha t ca n I d o fo r you , dear , dea r great-hearte d creature?"

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The hoarse voic e was particularly masculine . "When everythin g i s read y i n m y apartmen t t o receiv e him, Laurette , len d m e you r ca r s o I ca n g o an d fetc h th e child. That's al l I ask o f you. " With eve n greate r delicacy , Laurett e spok e s o softl y on e could scarcel y hear . "Marion . . . I don' t kno w anythin g . . . Yo u wan t tha t little bo y . . . I wil l giv e yo u him , o f course ! Bu t yo u . . . I t will b e a heav y burde n fo r you . Perhap s yo u migh t lik e it , since I was t o hav e looke d afte r hi m i n perpetuity , i f I pro vided fo r hi m . . . o r . . . i f I shared . . . " "You've alway s bee n extraordinary , Laurette . But I earn a good livin g you know! " She added passionately , "I'l l ear n eve n mor e now! " "Listen, Marion, I w a n t . . . " The valet appeare d a t th e door . "Alas! We mus t g o t o dinner! " sai d Laurette , "an d liste n to a discussion o f literature! " Without havin g learne d anythin g o f th e miser y o f Mis s Hervin, without havin g aske d an y questions , she courteousl y stood asid e to le t her pass . I stil l hav e a n undamage d far m u p i n th e north , nex t t o th e ruins o f th e chateau. Th e farmer s kno w m e onl y b y th e ren t they pay . I'l l sa y I' m a niece , o r a cousi n i n cas e the y kno w that Hervi n d e Valdeclar e ha d bu t a n onl y son . M y birt h certificate name s m e female, moreover , sinc e my uncle had i t changed. Bu t th e wa r ha s com e an d gone . Ther e won' t b e anything lef t o f th e ol d days . I f I ca n liv e i n on e o f th e outbuildings, o r hav e som e o f th e demolishe d part s rebuilt , that'll b e our summe r house . What reveng e to create a happ y

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childhood fo r a rea l littl e bo y i n thes e scene s fro m m y ow n childhood! I n th e winter , m y apartmen t i n th e sixteent h wil l be enoug h fo r th e tw o o f us , unti l somethin g bette r come s along. No longe r havin g to pay ren t fo r m y apartment o n th e left ban k wil l allo w m e t o find mor e luxuriou s lodging s i n Paris. I will hav e a n Englis h nurs e fo r m y littl e boy . Nurser y rhymes 2 ar e th e see d o f poetr y whic h goe s o n growin g fo r the rest of one' s life . Who coul d hav e tol d m e tha t on e da y I would than k m y uncle's memory ? Ha d h e no t ha d th e ide a o f changin g m e into a girl , non e o f thi s coul d hav e happened . Wha t blac k winding paths w e tread befor e joy !

Joy!

I ca n sacrific e m y manl y prid e t o joy . M y motherl y lov e will alway s b e a little masculine , bu t whe n on e hold s a chil d by the hand, ther e i s pride to o i n being a woman . He will think I' m hi s mother an d tha t will give me a sex a t last. H e calle d tha t woma n b y th e nam e "Aun t Lagnel " an d by no other . Ho w happil y m y heart bea t when I heard that ! I'll kee p hi s first name . Pierr e i s unambiguous. Pierr e Her vin d e Valdeclar e . . . I coul d adop t hi m immediately , I be lieve, bu t n o on e need s t o know . I n man y people' s eyes , I shall b e see n a s a n unwe d mother . Wha t glor y fo r a n eg g with a clear yolk! As for Ginett e an d compan y . . . We won' t go int o that . I' m no t har d u p fo r wor k wit h al l th e bandit s who ar e lookin g fo r ghos t writers . I ca n g o bac k t o th e papers wher e I worked a s a law student . I can eve n continu e with m y presen t authors . I must jus t mak e sur e no t t o sho w myself, that's all . Poor littl e Pierre ! H e als o starte d of f i n lif e livin g o n th e fringes o f wha t migh t hav e been . O f unknow n parentag e . . .

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I shal l b e hi s fathe r an d hi s mothe r i n on e perso n . . . S o there is a reason fo r m y double nature . "No!" t o th e voice of m y childhood. "H e wil l not becom e a Benedictine! " Widow Lagne l wa s move d t o tears , a s thoug h sh e woul d miss the child fo r othe r thing s than th e money . "But sinc e he's you r son , it' s onl y natura l tha t yo u shoul d take hi m back ! I f yo u manag e t o ge t hi m t o walk , he'l l b e a fine bo y late r on . An d gentl e a s a girl , thoug h h e doe s hav e his ways a t times . . . " "Tell m e something? . . . Has h e been baptized? " "I still haven't ha d hi m baptize d yet! " "Then h e hasn' t been . Fine . That'l l b e th e first thin g t o do." "But h e does know ho w t o sa y 'Gentle Jesus I give you m y heart.' I'v e alway s been religious , so I have." "Living so close to Solesme s . . . " "Do yo u kno w th e abbey ? Yo u shoul d g o i n whe n you'r e passing by. It's no distanc e with you r car. " "No, I won' t g o in . I don' t hav e time . I s Pierr e ready ? I gave you the money—our affair s ar e settled . . . Here, there' s some mor e fo r yourself . Yes , yes , tak e it ! It'l l b e fo r you r children's savings account. I'm sorr y they're at school. Good bye Mothe r Lagnel , goodby e . . . Kiss you r aunt , Pierre ! . . . Don't b e frightened now , th e ca r won't leav e without you! " Done u p lik e a puddin g i n hi s peasan t Sunda y clothe s an d rolled u p i n hi s invali d blanket , littl e Pierr e wa s rocke d b y Miss Wells' s bi g car . Mario n claspe d hi m t o he r a littl e too virilely .

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217

"You're hurtin g me , Dadame! " th e littl e voic e proteste d in surprise . Mademoiselle d e Valdeclar e ben t ove r he r quarry . Trembling, an d forcin g hersel f t o softe n tha t voic e whic h was stuc k eternall y a t breakin g point , sh e instructed, "Now , my love , yo u mustn' t sa y Dadam e an y more . Yo u mus t say Mamma. " The End

Notes

Chapter I i. Englis h i n th e original . 2. Englis h i n the original . 3. "Bobo " i s a nursery wor d fo r a bump, bruise , or sore . 4. Englis h i n th e original . 5. Englis h i n th e original . 6. Englis h i n the original . 7. Englis h i n the original . 8. Englis h i n the original .

Chapter II 1. Neuill y i s a wealth y subur b o f Pari s nestlin g betwee n th e Boi s d e Boulogne an d th e Seine . Eve n i n verdan t Neuilly , however , ghost s may walk .

Chapter HI 1. Th e Directoire wa s th e French Revolutionar y governmen t se t up b y th e Constitution o f th e Yea r 3 . I t laste d fro m 179 5 t o 179 9 an d i s com monly though t o f a s th e mos t corrup t regim e eve r known . Whil e thi s period wa s known fo r it s extravagant fashion s i n dress, its loose moral 219

220

Notes

ity, an d it s excesse s i n entertainment , directoir e furnitur e an d architec ture is characterized b y elongated, simpl e lines and spars e detail s base d on Roma n model s fro m Pompeii . 2. Giovann i Pic o dell a Mirandol a (1463-1494 ) wa s th e archetypa l "re naissance man. " H e studie d canonica l la w a t Bologna , literatur e a t Ferrara, an d philosoph y a t Padua . H e wa s a Platonist , wrot e theologi cal an d philosophica l treatise s suc h a s th e Conclusions an d th e Commentaries, fo r whic h h e was excommunicated an d exile d t o France . Chapter IV 1. Ecce homo! Ecce mulierl Latin : Behol d th e man ! Behol d th e woman ! After hi s interrogation o f Jesus Christ, Pontius Pilate turned t o the Jews saying,"I find n o faul t i n him. " Whe n Jesu s appeare d wearin g th e crown o f thorns , Pontiu s Pilat e announce d "Behol d th e man! " Joh n 19: 5 .

2. "Degres " i n the original . 3. Asmodeu s i s know n a s a destroye r o f marita l happines s i n Jewis h demonology an d appear s i n th e Boo k o f Tobit . H e visite d Sar a a s a succubus o n he r brida l nigh t an d kille d seve n o f he r husbands . Alai n Rene Le Sage made hi m th e hero o f he Diable boiteur, i n which h e an d Don Cleofa s fl y ove r th e roove s o f Madri d peerin g insid e the houses a s they go . 4. Th e "baccalaureat " i s a nationa l exa m fo r whic h schoo l student s si t during th e last year o f hig h school . Chapter V 1. Th e Frenc h ter m i s "l e ban c d e maquereaux, " th e shoa l o f mackerel . The word "maquereau " i s also used figuratively t o mea n a pimp. 2. "Un e foule " i s a crowd . Th e tru e feminin e for m o f "fou " (mad ) i s "folle," whic h sound s simila r t o "foule. " "Un e folle " i s also , coinci dently, a queen, in the sense of a drag queen .

Chapter VII 1. Englis h i n th e original . 2. Englis h i n the original .

Notes

221

3. Th e "bouquinistes " sel l book s alon g th e bank s o f th e Sein e i n Paris . They hav e thei r ow n permanen t stall s buil t o n th e parape t an d ar e especially commo n o n th e lef t ban k i n th e Lati n Quarter . Th e wor d "bouquin" i s slang for "book. "

Chapter VIII 1. Th e Frenc h ter m i s "negre, " whic h ma y als o b e translate d a s "negro " or "nigger. "

Intermezzo 1. L'Ange et les pervers wa s originall y publishe d i n 1930 , s o th e "post war" year s referred t o ar e the 1920s . What w e refer t o nowadays, fro m a positio n o f hindsight , a s the inter-war years . 2. " I will mak e m y skeleto n a s well a s the others. "

Chapter XI 1. A houri i s a femal e inhabitan t o f th e Musli m Paradise ; hence, a voluptuously beautifu l woman . Th e wor d come s fro m th e Arabi c "hur, " th e plural o f "hawr a i n hur-al-'ayun " o r female s gazelle-lik e in the eyes. 2. Th e lil y wa s considere d a symbo l o f purity , candor , an d virtue . A lily growin g i n a lily-po t wa s frequentl y depicte d i n painting s o f th e Annunciation, wher e th e Ange l Gabrie l tell s th e Virgi n Mar y tha t sh e will bear th e body o f Chris t i n her ow n womb . 3. Th e "elytra " ar e the outer win g case s of a n insect . 4. Th e child' s nam e mean s "Pierr e Little. " Hi s foste r mother' s pe t nam e "Little Pierre" i s an affectionat e retroversion .

Chapter XII 1. Th e "veille e d'armes " (warrior' s vigil ) too k plac e th e nigh t befor e th e future chevalie r gaine d hi s weapons , a nigh t spen t i n contemplatio n o f

222

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the importanc e o f th e comin g day ; hence , th e figurative meanin g o f moral preparatio n fo r a test or difficul t action . 2. Th e Thomists ar e the follower s o f Sain t Thomas Aquinas .

Chapter XIII i. Th e Frenc h ter m "grisaille " refer s t o a kind o f paintin g don e i n mono chrome gre y t o produce th e effect o f figures i n relief .

Chapter XV i. I n French Mario n ask s "Voulez-vou s m e le donner?" "Le " is the direc t object pronou n whic h i s marked fo r gende r (th e object i s grammaticall y masculine), bu t provide s n o informatio n wit h regar d t o animacy , i.e. , the heare r canno t tel l whethe r a huma n bein g o r a thin g i s bein g referred to . Laurette therefore assume s that Mario n i s looking for som e grammatically masculin e object , th e comb (l e peigne) perhaps . 2. Englis h i n the original .

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