Autobiographical fiction; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
"Oh, but nonsense!" said Odette.
"A water-butt?" asked the Doctor.
"To you," pursued Forcheville, "does intelligence mean what they call
clever talk; you know, the sort of people who worm their way into
society?"
"Finish your sweet, so that they can take your plate away!" said Mme.
Verdurin sourly to Saniette, who was lost in thought and had stopped
eating. And then, perhaps a little ashamed of her rudeness, "It doesn't
matter; take your time about it; there's no hurry; I only reminded you
because of the others, you know; it keeps the servants back."
"There is," began Brichot, with a resonant smack upon every syllable, "a
rather curious definition of intelligence by that pleasing old anarchist
Fénelon..."
"Just listen to this!" Mme. Verdurin rallied Forcheville and the Doctor.
"He's going to give us Fénelon's definition of intelligence. That's
interesting. It's not often you get a chance of hearing that!"
But Brichot was keeping Fénelon's definition until Swann should
have given his own. Swann remained silent, and, by this fresh act of
recreancy, spoiled the brilliant tournament of dialectic which Mme.
Verdurin was rejoicing at being able to offer to Forcheville.
"You see, it's just the same as with me!" Odette was peevish. "I'm not
at all sorry to see that I'm not the only one he doesn't find quite up
to his level."
"These de La Trémouailles whom Mme. Verdurin has exhibited to us as so
little to be desired," inquired Brichot, articulating vigorously, "are
they, by any chance, descended from the couple whom that worthy old
snob, Sévigné, said she was delighted to know, because it was so good
for her peasants? True, the Marquise had another reason, which in her
case probably came first, for she was a thorough journalist at heart,
and always on the look-out for 'copy.' And, in the journal which she
used to send regularly to her daughter, it was Mme. de La Trémouaille,
kept well-informed through all her grand connections, who supplied the
foreign politics."
"Oh dear, no. I'm quite sure they aren't the same family," said Mme.
Verdurin desperately.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account