Original Short Stories — Volume 05Maupassant, Guy de
General
Original Short Stories — Volume 05
Maupassant, Guy de
Short stories, French -- Translations into English
“In this way I remained taciturn, self-absorbed, without expansion,
without confidants. This mental excitement was going on secretly and
surely. The nerves of children are quickly affected, and one should
see to it that they live a tranquil life until they are almost fully
developed. But who ever reflects that, for certain boys, an unjust
imposition may be as great a pang as the death of a friend in later
years? Who can explain why certain young temperaments are liable to
terrible emotions for the slightest cause, and may eventually become
morbid and incurable?
“This was my case. This faculty of regret developed in me to such an
extent that my existence became a martyrdom.
“I did not speak about it; I said nothing about it; but gradually I
became so sensitive that my soul resembled an open wound. Everything
that affected me gave me painful twitchings, frightful shocks, and
consequently impaired my health. Happy are the men whom nature has
buttressed with indifference and armed with stoicism.
“I reached my sixteenth year. An excessive timidity had arisen from this
abnormal sensitiveness. Feeling myself unprotected from all the attacks
of chance or fate, I feared every contact, every approach, every
current. I lived as though I were threatened by an unknown and always
expected misfortune. I did not venture either to speak or do anything
in public. I had, indeed, the feeling that life, is a battle, a dreadful
conflict in which one receives terrible blows, grievous, mortal wounds.
In place of cherishing, like all men, a cheerful anticipation of the
morrow, I had only a confused fear of it, and felt in my own mind
a desire to conceal myself to avoid that combat in which I would be
vanquished and slain.
“As soon as my studies were finished, they gave me six months' time to
choose a career. A very simple occurrence showed me clearly, all of
a sudden, the diseased condition of my mind, made me understand the
danger, and determined me to flee from it.
“Verdiers is a little town surrounded with plains and woods. In the
central street stands my parents' house. I now passed my days far from
this dwelling which I had so much regretted, so much desired. Dreams had
reawakened in me, and I walked alone in the fields in order to let them
escape and fly away. My father and mother, quite occupied with business,
and anxious about my future, talked to me only about their profits
or about my possible plans. They were fond of me after the manner of
hardheaded, practical people; they had more reason than heart in their
affection for me. I lived imprisoned in my thoughts, and vibrating with
my eternal sensitiveness.
“Now, one evening, after a long walk, as I was making my way home with
great strides so as not to be late, I saw a dog trotting toward me. He
was a species of red spaniel, very lean, with long curly ears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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