The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Volume 1 — John Shaqi
The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Volume 1Zola, Émile
Religion
The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Volume 1
Zola, Émile
Catholics -- Fiction; Christian pilgrims and pilgrimages -- Fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Lourdes (France) -- Fiction
Henceforth he was at the seminary. The classrooms, the recreation
ground with its trees, rose up clearly before him. But all at once he
only beheld, as in a mirror, the youthful face which had then been his,
and he contemplated it and scrutinised it, as though it had been the
face of a stranger. Tall and slender, he had an elongated visage, with
an unusually developed forehead, lofty and straight like a tower;
whilst his jaws tapered, ending in a small refined chin. He seemed, in
fact, to be all brains; his mouth, rather large, alone retained an
expression of tenderness. Indeed, when his usually serious face
relaxed, his mouth and eyes acquired an exceedingly soft expression,
betokening an unsatisfied, hungry desire to love, devote oneself, and
live. But immediately afterwards, the look of intellectual passion
would come back again, that intellectuality which had ever consumed him
with an anxiety to understand and know. And it was with surprise that
he now recalled those years of seminary life. How was it that he had so
long been able to accept the rude discipline of blind faith, of
obedient belief in everything without the slightest examination? It had
been required of him that he should absolutely surrender his reasoning
faculties, and he had striven to do so, had succeeded indeed in
stifling his torturing need of truth. Doubtless he had been softened,
weakened by his mother’s tears, had been possessed by the sole desire
to afford her the great happiness she dreamt of. Yet now he remembered
certain quiverings of revolt; he found in the depths of his mind the
memory of nights which he had spent in weeping without knowing why,
nights peopled with vague images, nights through which galloped the
free, virile life of the world, when Marie’s face incessantly returned
to him, such as he had seen it one morning, dazzling and bathed in
tears, while she embraced him with her whole soul. And that alone now
remained; his years of religious study with their monotonous lessons,
their ever similar exercises and ceremonies, had flown away into the
same haze, into a vague half-light, full of mortal silence.
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