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第4章

george sand-第4章

小说: george sand 字数: 每页4000字

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 as kind as an angel and as silly as a goose; of the gentle Marie…Alicia; whose serene soul looked out of her blue eyes; a mirror of purity; and of the mystical Sister Helene; who had left home in spite of her family; in spite of the supplications and the sobs of her mother and sisters; and who had passed over the body of a child on her way to God。  It is like this always。  The costumes are the same; the hands are clasped in the same manner; the white bands and the faces look equally pale; but underneath this apparent uniformity what contrasts!  It is the inner life which marks the differences so vigorously; and shows up the originality of each one。  Aurore gradually discovered the diversity of all these souls and the beauty of each one。  She thought of becoming a nun; but her confessor did not advise this; and he was certainly wise。  Her grandmother; who had a philosopher's opinion of priests; blamed their fanaticism; and took her little granddaughter away from the convent。  Perhaps she felt the need of affection for the few months she had still to live。  At any rate; she certainly had this affection。  One of the first results of the larger perspicacity which Aurore had acquired at the convent was to make her understand her grandmother at last。  She was able now to grasp the complex nature of her relative and to see the delicacy hidden under an appearance of great reserve。  She knew now all that she owed to her grandmother; but unfortunately it was one of those discoveries which are made too late。


The eighteen months which Aurore now passed at Nohant; until the death of her grandmother; are very important as regards her psychological biography。  She was seventeen years old; and a girl who was eager to live and very emotional。  She had first been a child of Nature。  Her convent life had taken her away from Nature and accustomed her to falling back on her own thoughts。  Nature now took her back once more; and her beloved Nohant feted her return。

〃The trees were in flower;〃 she says; 〃the nightingales were singing; and; in the distance; I could hear the classic; solemn sound of the labourers。  My old friends; the big dogs; who had growled at me the evening before; recognized me again and were profuse in their caresses。 。 。 。〃

She wanted to see everything again。  The things themselves had not changed; but her way of looking at them now was different。  During her long; solitary walks every morning; she enjoyed seeing the various landscapes; sometimes melancholy…looking and sometimes delightful。  She enjoyed; too; the picturesqueness of the various things she met; the flocks of cattle; the birds taking their flight; and even the sound of the horses' feet splashing in the water。  She enjoyed everything; in a kind of voluptuous reverie which was no longer instinctive; but conscious and a trifle morbid。

Added to all this; her reading at this epoch was without any order or method。  She read everything voraciously; mixing all the philosophers up together。  She read Locke; Condillac; Montesquieu; Bossuet; Pascal; Montaigne; but she kept Rousseau apart from the others。  She devoured the books of the moralists and poets; La Bruyere; Pope; Milton; Dante; Virgil; Shakespeare。  All this reading was too much for her and excited her brain。  She had reserved Chateaubriand's _Rene_; and; on reading that; she was overcome by the sadness which emanates from these distressing pages。  She was disgusted with life; and attempted to commit suicide。  She tried to drown herself; and only owed her life to the healthy…mindedness of the good mare Colette; as the horse evidently had not the same reasons as its young mistress for wishing to put an end to its days。

All this time Aurore was entirely free to please herself。  Deschartres; who had always treated her as a boy; encouraged her independence。  It was at his instigation that she dressed in masculine attire to go out shooting。  People began to talk about her 〃eccentricities〃 at Landerneau; and the gossip continued as far as La Chatre。  Added to this; Aurore began to study osteology with a young man who lived in the neighbourhood; and it was said that this young man; Stephane Ajasson de Grandsaigne; gave her lessons in her own room。  This was the climax。

We have a curious testimony as regards the state of the young girl's mind at this epoch。  A review; entitled _Le Voile de pourpre_; published recently; in its first number; a letter from Aurore to her mother; dated November 18; 1821。  Her mother had evidently written to her on hearing the gossip about her; and had probably enlarged upon it。

〃You reproach me; mother; with neither having timidity; modesty; nor charm;〃 she writes; 〃or at least you suppose that I have these qualities; but that I refrain from showing them; and you are quite certain that I have no outward decency nor decorum。  You ought to know me before judging me in this way。  You would then be able to form an opinion about my conduct。  Grandmother is here; and; ill though she is; she watches over me carefully and lovingly; and she would not fail to correct me if she considered that I had the manners of a dragoon or of a hussar。〃

She considered that she had no need of any one to guide or protect her; and no need of leading…strings。

〃I am seventeen;〃 she says; 〃and I know my way about。〃

If this Monsieur de Grandsaigne had ventured to take any liberty with her; she was old enough to take care of herself。

Her mother had blamed her for learning Latin and osteology。  〃Why should a woman be ignorant?〃 she asks。  〃Can she not be well educated without this spoiling her and without being pedantic?  Supposing that I should have sons in the future; and that I had profited sufficiently by my studies to be able to teach them; would not a mother's lessons be as good as a tutor's?〃

She was already challenging public opinion; starting a campaign against false prejudices; showing a tendency to generalize; and to make the cause of one woman the cause of all women。

We must now bear in mind the various traits we have discovered; one after another; in Aurore's character。  We must remember to what parentage she owed her intellectuality and her sentimentality。  It will then be more easy to understand the terms she uses when describing her fascination for Rousseau's writings。

〃The language of Jean…Jacques and the form of his deductions impressed me as music might have done when heard in brilliant sunshine。  I compared him to Mozart; and I understood everything。〃

She understood him; for she recognized herself in him。  She sympathized with that predominance of feeling and imagination; that exaggeration of sentiment; that preference for life according to Nature; that emotion on beholding the various sights of the country; that distrust of people; those effusions of religious sentimentality; those solitary reveries; and that melancholy which made death seem desirable to him。  All this was to Aurore Dupin the gospel according to Rousseau。  The whole of her psychology is to be found here。

She was an exceptional being undoubtedly; but in order to be a genial exception one must have within oneself; and then personify with great intensity all the inspirations which; at a certain moment; are dispersed in the atmosphere。  Ever since the great agitation which had shaken the moral world by Rousseau's preaching; there had been various vague currents and a whole crowd of confused aspirations floating about。  It was this enormous wave that entered a feminine soul。  Unconsciously Aurore Dupin welcomed the new ideal; and it was this ideal which was to operate within her。  The question was; what would she do with it; in presence of life with all its everyday and social realities。  This question is the object of our study。  In the solution of it lies the interest; the drama and the lesson of George Sand's destiny。



II

BARONNE DUDEVANT MARRIAGE AND FREEDOMTHE ARRIVAL IN PARIS JULES SANDEAU

We must now endeavour to discover what the future George Sand's experiences of marriage were; and the result of these experiences on the formation of her ideas。

〃You will lose your best friend in me;〃 were the last words of the grandmother to her granddaughter on her death…bed。 The old lady spoke

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