Bildungsromans; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
Berma herself when I read in the newspapers, after the
programme of these performances, that it was she who had decided to shew
herself once more to the public in some of her early creations. She was
conscious, then, that certain stage-parts have an interest which
survives the novelty of their first production or the success of a
revival; she regarded them, when interpreted by herself, as museum
pieces which it might be instructive to set before the eyes of the
generation which had admired her in them long ago, or of that which had
never yet seen her in them. In thus advertising, in the middle of a
column of plays intended only to while away an evening, this _Phèdre_,
a title no longer than any of the rest, nor set in different type, she
added something indescribable, as though a hostess, introducing you,
before you all go in to dinner, to her other guests, were to mention,
casually, amid the string of names which are the names of guests and
nothing more, and without any change of tone:--"M. Anatole France."
The doctor who was attending me--the same who had forbidden me to
travel--advised my parents not to let me go to the theatre; I should
only be ill again afterwards, perhaps for weeks, and should in the long
run derive more pain than pleasure from the experience. The fear of this
might have availed to stop me, if what I had anticipated from such a
spectacle had been only a pleasure for which a subsequent pain could so
compensate as to cancel it. But what I demanded from this
performance--just as from the visit to Balbec, the visit to Venice for
which I had so intensely longed--was something quite different from
pleasure; a series of verities pertaining to a world more real than that
in which I lived, which, once acquired, could never be taken from me
again by any of the trivial incidents--even though it were the cause of
bodily suffering--of my otiose existence. At best, the pleasure which I
was to feel during the performance appeared to me as the perhaps
inevitable form of the perception of these truths; and I hoped only that
the illness which had been forecast for me would not begin until the
play was finished, so that my pleasure should not be in any way
compromised or spoiled. I implored my parents, who, after the doctor's
visit, were no longer inclined to let me go to _Phèdre._ I repeated,
all day long, to myself, the speech beginning,
"On dit qu'un prompt départ vous éloigne de nous,----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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