Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 2 (of 2)Gautier, Théophile
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Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 2 (of 2)
Gautier, Théophile
French fiction -- Translations into English
If I had remained at home, in the costume of my own sex, listlessly
turning my spinning-wheel or making tapestry in a window recess behind
the glass, this thing that I have sought the world over would perhaps
have found me out unaided. Love is like fortune, it does not like to
be run after. It visits by preference those who sleep on well-curbs,
and the kisses of queens and goddesses often descend upon closed
eyes.--It blinds and deceives you to think that all adventures and
all good fortune exist only in the places where you are not, and it
is a bad plan to order your horse saddled or to post off in search of
your ideal. Many people have made that mistake, many more will make
it.--The horizon is always of the loveliest azure, although, when you
arrive there, the hills that compose it are usually only bare, seamed,
rain-swept fields of yellow clay.
I fancied that the world was full of adorable young men, and that I
should meet on the roads whole tribes of Esplandians, Amadises and
Launcelots of the Lake in search of their Dulcineas, and I was greatly
amazed to find that the world paid but little heed to that sublime
search and was content to lie with the first strumpet that came to
hand; I am severely punished for my curiosity and my suspicion. I am
the most horribly _blasé_ creature in the world without ever having
enjoyed anything. In my case, knowledge has gone before experience;
there is nothing worse than such premature knowledge which is not the
fruit of action.--The most absolute ignorance would be a hundred
thousand times better, it would at least make you do many foolish
things which would serve to instruct you and rectify your ideas;
for, under this disgust of which I spoke just now, there is always
an active, rebellious element which produces the most extraordinary
confusion; the mind is convinced, the body is not, and will not
subscribe to this superb disdain. The young and robust body plunges and
rears under the mind like a lusty stallion ridden by a feeble old man
whom he cannot unseat, for the nose-band holds his head and the bit
tears his mouth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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