Entomologists -- France -- Biography; Fabre, Jean-Henri, 1823-1915
He was soon so accustomed to his new life in peaceful Ajaccio, whose
surroundings, decked in eternal verdure, are so captivating and so
beautiful, that in spite of a vague desire for change he now dreaded to
leave it. He never wearied of admiring and exalting the beautiful and
majestic aspects of his new home. How he longed to share his enthusiasm
with his father or his brother, as he rambled through the neighbouring
maquis!
"The infinite, glittering sea at my feet, the dreadful masses of granite
overhead, the white, dainty town seated beside the water, the endless
jungles of myrtle, which yield intoxicating perfumes, the wastes of
brushwood which the ploughshare has never turned, which cover the mountains
from base to summit; the fishing-boats that plough the gulf: all this forms
a prospect so magnificent, so striking, that whosoever has beheld it must
always long to see it again." (3/1.)
"What is their rock of Pierrelatte, that enormous block of stone which
overhangs the place where they dwell, a reef which rises from the surface
of the ancient sea of alluvium, compared with these blocks of uprooted
granite which lie upon the hillsides here?"
And what were the Aubrac hills which traversed his native country; what was
the Ventoux even, that famous Alp, "beside the peaks which rise about the
gulf of Ajaccio, always crowned with clouds and whitened with snow, even
when the soil of the plains is scorching and rings like a fired brick?"
Time did nothing to abate these first impressions, and after more than a
year on the island he was still full of wonder "at the sight of these
granite crests, corroded by the severities of the climate, jagged,
overthrown by the lightning, shattered by the slow but sure action of the
snows, and these vertiginous gulfs through which the four winds of heaven
go roaring; these vast inclined planes on which snow-drifts form thirty,
sixty, and ninety feet in depth, and across which flow winding watercourses
which go to fill, drop by drop, the yawning craters, there to form lakes,
black as ink when seen in the shadow, but blue as heaven in the light...
"But it would be impossible for me to give you the least idea of this dizzy
spectacle, this chaos of rocks, heaped in frightful disorder. When, closing
my eyes, I contemplate these results of the convulsion of the soil in my
mind's eye, when I hear the screaming of the eagles, which go wheeling
through the bottomless abysses, whose inky shadows the eye dares hardly
plumb, vertigo seizes me, and I open my eyes to reassure myself by the
reality."
And he sends with his letter a few leaves of the snow immortelle--the
edelweiss--plucked on the highest summits, amid the eternal snows; "you
will put this in some book, and when, as you turn the leaves, the
immortelle meets your eyes, it will give you an excuse for dreaming of the
beautiful horrors of its native place." (3/2.)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account