July 30, 1883.
My Dear Lucy:
I have no news. We live in the drawing-room, looking out at the rain. We cannot go out in this frightful2 weather, so we have theatricals3. How stupid they are, my dear, these drawing entertainments in the repertory of real life! All is forced, coarse, heavy. The jokes are like cannon4 balls, smashing everything in their passage. No wit, nothing natural, no sprightliness5, no elegance6. These literary men, in truth, know nothing of society. They are perfectly7 ignorant of how people think and talk in our set. I do not mind if they despise our customs, our conventionalities, but I do not forgive them for not knowing them. When they want to be humorous they make puns that would do for a barrack; when they try to be jolly, they give us jokes that they must have picked up on the outer boulevard in those beer houses artists are supposed to frequent, where one has heard the same students' jokes for fifty years.
So we have taken to Theatricals. As we are only two women, my husband takes the part of a soubrette, and, in order to do that, he has shaved off his mustache. You cannot imagine, my dear Lucy, how it changes him! I no longer recognize him-by day or at night. If he did not let it grow again I think I should no longer love him; he looks so horrid8 like this.
In fact, a man without a mustache is no longer a man. I do not care much for a beard; it almost always makes a man look untidy. But a mustache, oh, a mustache is indispensable to a manly9 face. No, you would never believe how these little hair bristles10 on the upper lip are a relief to the eye and good in other ways. I have thought over the matter a great deal but hardly dare to write my thoughts. Words look so different on paper and the subject is so difficult, so delicate, so dangerous that it requires infinite skill to tackle it.
Well, when my husband appeared, shaven, I understood at once that I never could fall in love with a strolling actor nor a preacher, even if it were Father Didon, the most charming of all! Later when I was alone with him (my husband) it was worse still. Oh, my dear Lucy, never let yourself be kissed by a man without a mustache; their kisses have no flavor, none whatever! They no longer have the charm, the mellowness11 and the snap —yes, the snap—of a real kiss. The mustache is the spice.
Imagine placing to your lips a piece of dry—or moist—parchment. That is the kiss of the man without a mustache. It is not worth while.
Whence comes this charm of the mustache, will you tell me? Do I know myself? It tickles12 your face, you feel it approaching your mouth and it sends a little shiver through you down to the tips of your toes.
And on your neck! Have you ever felt a mustache on your neck? It intoxicates13 you, makes you feel creepy, goes to the tips of your fingers. You wriggle14, shake your shoulders, toss back your head. You wish to get away and at the same time to remain there; it is delightful15, but irritating. But how good it is!
A lip without a mustache is like a body without clothing; and one must wear clothes, very few, if you like, but still some clothing.
I recall a sentence (uttered by a politician) which has been running in my mind for three months. My husband, who keeps up with the newspapers, read me one evening a very singular speech by our Minister of Agriculture, who was called M. Meline. He may have been superseded16 by this time. I do not know.
I was paying no attention, but the name Meline struck me. It recalled, I do not exactly know why, the 'Scenes de la vie de boheme'. I thought it was about some grisette. That shows how scraps17 of the speech entered my mind. This M. Meline was making this statement to the people of Amiens, I believe, and I have ever since been trying to understand what he meant: “There is no patriotism18 without agriculture!” Well, I have just discovered his meaning, and I affirm in my turn that there is no love without a mustache. When you say it that way it sounds comical, does it not?
There is no love without a mustache!
“There is no patriotism without agriculture,” said M. Meline, and he was right, that minister; I now understand why.
From a very different point of view the mustache is essential. It gives character to the face. It makes a man look gentle, tender, violent, a monster, a rake, enterprising! The hairy man, who does not shave off his whiskers, never has a refined look, for his features are concealed20; and the shape of the jaw21 and the chin betrays a great deal to those who understand.
The man with a mustache retains his own peculiar22 expression and his refinement23 at the same time.
And how many different varieties of mustaches there are! Sometimes they are twisted, curled, coquettish. Those seem to be chiefly devoted24 to women.
Sometimes they are pointed25, sharp as needles, and threatening. That kind prefers wine, horses and war.
Sometimes they are enormous, overhanging, frightful. These big ones generally conceal19 a fine disposition26, a kindliness27 that borders on weakness and a gentleness that savors28 of timidity.
But what I adore above all in the mustache is that it is French, altogether French. It came from our ancestors, the Gauls, and has remained the insignia of our national character.
It is boastful, gallant29 and brave. It sips30 wine gracefully31 and knows how to laugh with refinement, while the broad-bearded jaws32 are clumsy in everything they do.
I recall something that made me weep all my tears and also—I see it now—made me love a mustache on a man's face.
It was during the war, when I was living with my father. I was a young girl then. One day there was a skirmish near the chateau. I had heard the firing of the cannon and of the artillery33 all the morning, and that evening a German colonel came and took up his abode34 in our house. He left the following day.
My father was informed that there were a number of dead bodies in the fields. He had them brought to our place so that they might be buried together. They were laid all along the great avenue of pines as fast as they brought them in, on both sides of the avenue, and as they began to smell unpleasant, their bodies were covered with earth until the deep trench35 could be dug. Thus one saw only their heads which seemed to protrude36 from the clayey earth and were almost as yellow, with their closed eyes.
I wanted to see them. But when I saw those two rows of frightful faces, I thought I should faint. However, I began to look at them, one by one, trying to guess what kind of men these had been.
The uniforms were concealed beneath the earth, and yet immediately, yes, immediately, my dear, I recognized the Frenchmen by their mustache!
Some of them had shaved on the very day of the battle, as though they wished to be elegant up to the last; others seemed to have a week's growth, but all wore the French mustache, very plain, the proud mustache that seems to say: “Do not take me for my bearded friend, little one; I am a brother.”
And I cried, oh, I cried a great deal more than I should if I had not recognized them, the poor dead fellows.
the mustache!
JEANNE.
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1
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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sprightliness
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| n.愉快，快活 | |
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6
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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7
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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8
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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bristles
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| 短而硬的毛发，刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
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mellowness
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| 成熟； 芳醇； 肥沃； 怡然 | |
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tickles
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| （使）发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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intoxicates
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| 使喝醉（intoxicate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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16
superseded
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| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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18
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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28
savors
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的第三人称单数 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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29
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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32
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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33
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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34
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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35
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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protrude
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| v.使突出，伸出，突出 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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