Bildungsromans; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
We began to go down hill; and then met, climbing on foot, on a bicycle,
in a cart or carriage, one of those creatures--flowers of a fine day but
unlike the flowers of the field, for each of them secretes something
that is not to be found in another, with the result that we can never
satisfy upon any of her fellows the desire which she has brought to
birth in us--a farm-girl driving her cow or half-lying along a waggon, a
shopkeeper's daughter taking the air, a fashionable young lady erect on
the back-seat of a landau, facing her parents. Certainly Bloch had been
the means of opening a new era and had altered the value of life for me
on the day when he had told me that the dreams which I had entertained
on my solitary walks along the Méséglise way, when I hoped that some
peasant girl might pass whom I could take in my arms, were not a mere
fantasy which corresponded to nothing outside myself, but that all the
girls one met, whether villagers or "young ladies", were alike ready and
willing to give ear to such prayers. And even if I were fated, now that
I was ill and did not go out by myself, never to be able to make love to
them, I was happy all the same, like a child born in a prison or a
hospital, who, having always supposed that the human organism was
capable of digesting only dry bread and "physic", has learned suddenly
that peaches, apricots and grapes are not simply part of the decoration
of the country scene but delicious and easily assimilated food. Even if
his gaoler or his nurse does not allow him to pluck those tempting
fruits, still the world seems to him a better place and existence in it
more clement. For a desire seems to us more attractive, we repose on it
with more confidence, when we know that outside ourself there is a
reality which conforms to it, even if, for us, it is not to be realised.
And we think with more joy of a life in which (on condition that we
eliminate for a moment from our mind the tiny obstacle, accidental and
special, which prevents us personally from doing so) we can imagine
ourself to be assuaging that desire. As to the pretty girls who went
past, from the day on which I had first known that their cheeks could be
kissed, I had become curious about their souls. And the universe had
appeared to me more interesting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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