Bildungsromans; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
would never be attained save at the end of a long and heart-rending
pursuit, in the course of which I should have first to sacrifice my own
pleasure to that paramount good instead of seeking it there.
My grandmother, naturally enough, looked upon our exodus from a somewhat
different point of view, and (for she was still as anxious as ever that
the presents which were made me should take some artistic form) had
planned, so that she might be offering me, of this journey, a "print"
that was, at least, in parts "old", that we should repeat, partly by
rail and partly by road, the itinerary that Mme. de Sévigné followed
when she went from Paris to "L'Orient" by way of Chaulnes and "the
Pont-Audemer". But my grandmother had been obliged to abandon this
project, at the instance of my father who knew, whenever she organised
any expedition with a view to extracting from it the utmost intellectual
benefit that it was capable of yielding, what a tale there would be to
tell of missed trains, lost luggage, sore throats and broken rules. She
was free at least to rejoice in the thought that never, when the time
came for us to sally forth to the beach, should we be exposed to the
risk of being kept indoors by the sudden appearance of what her beloved
Sévigné calls a "beast of a coachload", since we should know not a
soul at Balbec, Legrandin having refrained from offering us a letter of
introduction to his sister. (This abstention had not been so well
appreciated by my aunts Céline and Flora, who, having known as a child
that lady, of whom they had always spoken until then, to commemorate
this early intimacy, as "Renée de Cambremer", and having had from her
and still possessing a number of those little presents which continue to
ornament a room or a conversation but to which the feeling between the
parties no longer corresponds, imagined that they were avenging the
insult offered to us by never uttering again, when they called upon Mme.
Legrandin, the name of her daughter, confining themselves to a mutual
congratulation, once they were safely out of the house: "I made no
reference to you know whom!" "I think that went home!")
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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