Corinne; or, ItalyStaël, Madame de (Anne-Louise-Germaine)
History
Corinne; or, Italy
Staël, Madame de (Anne-Louise-Germaine)
Italy -- History -- 1789-1815 -- Fiction; Nobility -- Scotland -- Fiction; Women poets -- Fiction
has two sides; every subject may be attacked or defended; we may plead
the cause of life, yet much is to be said for death, or a state thus
resembling it. Such was my situation. My voice was a sound either
useless or troublesome to its hearers. I could not, as in London or
Edinburgh, enjoy the society of learned men, who, with a taste for
intellectual conversation, would have appreciated that of a foreigner,
even if she did not quite conform with the strict etiquettes of
their country. I sometimes passed whole days with Lady Edgarmond and
her friends, without hearing one word that echoed either thought or
feeling, or beholding one expressive gesture. I looked on the faces
of young girls, fair, fresh, and beautiful, but perfectly immovable.
Strange union of contrasts! All ages partook of the same amusements;
they drank tea, and played whist;[3] women grew old in this routine
here. Time was sure not to miss them; he well knew where they were to
be found.
"An automaton might have filled my place, and could have done all that
was expected of me. In England, as elsewhere, the divers interests that
do honor to humanity worthily occupy the leisure of men, whatever their
retirement; but what remained for women in this isolated corner of the
earth? Among the ladies who visited us there were some not deficient
in mind, though they concealed it as a superfluity; and towards forty
this slight impulse of the brain was benumbed like all the rest. Some
of them I suspected, must, by reflection, have matured their natural
abilities; sometimes a look or murmured accent told of thoughts that
strayed from the beaten track; but the petty opinions, all-powerful
in their own little sphere, repressed these inclinations. A woman was
considered insane, or of doubtful virtue, if she ventured in any way
to assert herself; and, what was worse than all these inconveniences,
she could gain not one advantage by the attempt. At first, I endeavored
to rouse this sleeping world. I proposed poetic readings and music,
and a day was appointed for this purpose: but suddenly, one woman
remembered that she had been three weeks invited to sup with her aunt;
another, that she was in mourning for an old cousin she had never
seen, and who had been dead for months; a third, that she had some
domestic arrangements to make at home; all very reasonable; yet thus
forever were intellectual pleasures rejected; and I so often heard them
say, 'that cannot be done,' that, amid so many negations, _not to
live_ would have been to me the best of all. After some debates with
myself I gave up my vain schemes, not that my father forbade them, he
even enjoined his wife to cease tormenting me on my studies; but her
insinuations, her stolen glances while I spoke, a thousand trivial
hinderances, like the chains the Lilliputians wove round Gulliver,
rendered it impossible for me to follow my own will; so I ended by
doing as I saw others do, though dying of impatience and disgust. By
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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