Life in the quarter. Our BISTRO, for instance, at the foot of the Hotel des Trois Moineaux. A tiny brick-floored room, half underground, with wine-sodden tables, and a photograph of a funeral inscribed1 ‘CREDIT EST MORT’; and red-sashed workmen carving2 sausage with big jack-knives; and Madame F., a splendid Auvergnat peasant woman with the face of a strong-minded cow, drinking Malaga all day ‘for her stomach’; and games of dice3 for APERITIFS4; and songs about ‘LES PRAISES ET LES FRAMBOISES’, and about Madelon, who said, ‘COMMENT EPOUSER UN SOLDAT, MOI QUI AIME TOUT5 LE REGIMENT6?’; and extraordinarily7 public love-making. Half the hotel used to meet in the BISTRO in the evenings. I wish one could find a pub in London a quarter as cheery.
One heard queer conversations in the BISTRO. As a sample I give you Charlie, one of the local curiosities, talking.
Charlie was a youth of family and education who had run away from home and lived on occasional remittances8. Picture him very pink and young, with the fresh cheeks and soft brown hair of a nice little boy, and lips excessively red and wet, like cherries. His feet are tiny, his arms abnormally short, his hands dimpled like a baby’s. He has a way of dancing and capering9 while he talks, as though he were too happy and too full of life to keep still for an instant. It is three in the afternoon, and there is no one in the BISTRO except Madame F. and one or two men who are out of work; but it is all the same to Charlie whom he talks to, so long as he can talk about himself. He declaims like an orator10 on a barricade11, rolling the words on his tongue and gesticulating with his short arms. His small, rather piggy eyes glitter with enthusiasm. He is, somehow, profoundly disgusting to see.
He is talking of love, his favourite subject.
‘AH, L’AMOUR, L’AMOUR! AH, QUE LES FEMMES M’ONT TUE! Alas12, MESSIEURS ET DAMES13, women have been my ruin, beyond all hope my ruin. At twenty-two I am utterly14 worn out and finished. But what things I have learned, what abysses of wisdom have I not plumbed15! How great a thing it is to have acquired the true wisdom, to have become in the highest sense of the word a civilized16 man, to have become RAFFINE, VICIEUX,’ etc. etc.
‘MESSIEURS ET DAFFIES, I perceive that you are sad. AH, MAIS LA VIE EST BELLE17— you must not be sad. Be more gay, I beseech18 you!
‘Fill high ze bowl vid Samian vine,
Ve vill not sink of semes like zese!
‘AH, QUE LA VIE EST BELLE! LISTEN, MESSIEURS ET DAMES, out of the fullness of my experience I will discourse19 to you of love. I will explain to you what is the true meaning of love — what is the true sensibility, the higher, more refined pleasure which is known to civilized men alone. I will tell you of the happiest day of my life. Alas, but I am past the time when I could know such happiness as that. It is gone for ever — the very possibility, even the desire for it, are gone.
‘Listen, then. It was two years ago; my brother was in Paris — he is a lawyer — and my parents had told him to find me and take me out to dinner. We hate each other, my brother and I, but we preferred not to disobey my parents. We dined, and at dinner he grew very drunk upon three bottles of Bordeaux. I took him back to his hotel, and on the way I bought a bottle of brandy, and when we had arrived I made my brother drink a tumblerful of it — I told him it was something to make him sober. He drank it, and immediately he fell down like somebody in a fit, dead drunk. I lifted him up and propped20 his back against the bed; then I went through his pockets. I found eleven hundred francs, and with that I hurried down the stairs, jumped into a taxi, and escaped. My brother did not know my address — I was safe.
‘Where does a man go when he has money? To the BORDELS, naturally. But you do not suppose that I was going to waste my time on some vulgar debauchery fit only for navvies? Confound it, one is a civilized man! I was fastidious, exigeant, you understand, with a thousand francs in my pocket. It was midnight before I found what I was looking for. I had fallen in with a very smart youth of eighteen, dressed EN SMOKING and with his hair cut A L’AMERICAINE, and we were talking in a quiet BISTRO away from the boulevards. We understood one another well, that youth and I. We talked of this and that, and discussed ways of diverting oneself. Presently we took a taxi together and were driven away.
‘The taxi stopped in a narrow, solitary21 street with a single gas-lamp flaring22 at the end. There were dark puddles23 among the stones. Down one side ran the high, blank wall of a convent. My guide led me to a tall, ruinous house with shuttered windows, and knocked several times at the door. Presently there was a sound of footsteps and a shooting of bolts, and the door opened a little. A hand came round the edge of it; it was a large, crooked24 hand, that held itself palm upwards25 under our noses, demanding money.
‘My guide put his foot between the door and the step. “How much do you want?” he said.
‘“A thousand francs,” said a woman’s voice. “Pay up at once or you don’t come in.”
‘I put a thousand francs into the hand and gave the remaining hundred to my guide: he said good night and left me. I could hear the voice inside counting the notes, and then a thin old crow of a woman in a black dress put her nose out and regarded me suspiciously before letting me in. It was very dark inside: I could see nothing except a flaring gas-jet that illuminated26 a patch of plaster wall, throwing everything else into deeper shadow. There was a smell of rats and dust. Without speaking, the old woman lighted a candle at the gas-jet, then hobbled in front of me down a stone passage to the top of a flight of stone steps.
‘“VOILA!” she said; “go down into the cellar there and do what you like. I shall see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing. You are free, you understand — perfectly27 free.”
‘Ha, MESSIEURS, need I describe to YOU— FORCEMENT, you know it yourselves — that shiver, half of terror and half of joy, that goes through one at these moments? I crept down, feeling my way; I could hear my breathing and the scraping of my shoes on the stones, otherwise all was silence. At the bottom of the stairs my hand met an electric switch. I turned it, and a great electrolier of twelve red globes flooded the cellar with a red light. And behold28, I was not in a cellar, but in a bedroom, a great, rich, garish29 bedroom, coloured blood red from top to bottom. Figure it to yourselves, MESSIEURS ET DAMES! Red carpet on the floor, red paper on the walls, red plush on the chairs, even the ceiling red; everywhere red, burning into the eyes. It was a heavy, stifling30 red, as though the light were shining through bowls of blood. At the far end stood a huge, square bed, with quilts red like the rest, and on it a girl was lying, dressed in a frock of red velvet31. At the sight of me she shrank away and tried to hide her knees under the short dress.
‘I had halted by the door. “Come here, my chicken,” I called to her.
‘She gave a whimper of fright. With a bound I was beside the bed; she tried to elude32 me, but I seized her by the throat — like this, do you see? — tight! She struggled, she began to cry out for mercy, but I held her fast, forcing back her head and staring down into her face. She was twenty years old, perhaps; her face was the broad, dull face of a stupid child, but it was coated with paint and powder, and her blue, stupid eyes, shining in the red light, wore that shocked, distorted look that one sees nowhere save in the eyes of these women. She was some peasant girl, doubtless, whom her parents had sold into slavery.
‘Without another word I pulled her off the bed and threw her on to the floor. And then I fell upon her like a tiger! Ah, the joy, the incomparable rapture33 of that time! There, MESSIEURS ET DAMES, is what I would expound34 to you; VOILA L’AMOUR! There is the true love, there is the only thing in the world worth striving for; there is the thing beside which all your arts and ideals, all your philosophies and creeds35, all your fine words and high attitudes, are as pale and profitless as ashes. When one has experienced love — the true love — what is there in the world that seems more than a mere36 ghost of joy?
‘More and more savagely37 I renewed the attack. Again and again the girl tried to escape; she cried out for mercy anew, but I laughed at her.
‘“Mercy!” I said, “do you suppose I have come here to show mercy? Do you suppose I have paid a thousand francs for that?” I swear to you, MESSIEURS ET DAMES, that if it were not for that accursed law that robs us of our liberty, I would have murdered her at that moment.
‘Ah, how she screamed, with what bitter cries of agony. But there was no one to hear them; down there under the streets of Paris we were as secure as at the heart of a pyramid. Tears streamed down the girl’s face, washing away the powder in long, dirty smears38. Ah, that irrecoverable time! You, MESSIEURS ET DAMES, you who have not cultivated the finer sensibilities of love, for you such pleasure is almost beyond conception. And I too, now that my youth is gone — ah, youth! — shall never again see life so beautiful as that. It is finished.
‘Ah yes, it is gone — gone for ever. Ah, the poverty, the shortness, the disappointment of human joy! For in reality — CAR EN REALITE, what is the duration of the supreme39 moment of love. It is nothing, an instant, a second perhaps. A second of ecstasy40, and after that — dust, ashes, nothingness.
‘And so, just for one instant, I captured the supreme happiness, the highest and most refined emotion to which human beings can attain41. And in the same moment it was finished, and I was left — to what? All my savagery42, my passion, were scattered43 like the petals44 of a rose. I was left cold and languid, full of vain regrets; in my revulsion I even felt a kind of pity for the weeping girl on the floor. Is it not nauseous, that we should be the prey45 of such mean emotions? I did not look at the girl again; my sole thought was to get away. I hastened up the steps of the vault46 and out into the street. It was dark and bitterly cold, the streets were empty, the stones echoed under my heels with a hollow, lonely ring. All my money was gone, I had not even the price of a taxi fare. I walked back alone to my cold, solitary room.
‘But there, MESSIEURS ET DAMES, that is what I promised to expound to you. That is Love. That was the happiest day of my life.’
He was a curious specimen47, Charlie. I describe him, just to show what diverse characters could be found flourishing in the Coq d’Or quarter.
1 inscribed | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 );内接 | |
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2 carving | |
n.雕刻品,雕花 | |
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3 dice | |
n.骰子;vt.把(食物)切成小方块,冒险 | |
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4 aperitifs | |
n.(饭前饮用的)开胃酒( aperitif的名词复数 ) | |
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5 tout | |
v.推销,招徕;兜售;吹捧,劝诱 | |
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6 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
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7 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
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8 remittances | |
n.汇寄( remittance的名词复数 );汇款,汇款额 | |
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9 capering | |
v.跳跃,雀跃( caper的现在分词 );蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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10 orator | |
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
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11 barricade | |
n.路障,栅栏,障碍;vt.设路障挡住 | |
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12 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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13 dames | |
n.(在英国)夫人(一种封号),夫人(爵士妻子的称号)( dame的名词复数 );女人 | |
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14 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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15 plumbed | |
v.经历( plumb的过去式和过去分词 );探究;用铅垂线校正;用铅锤测量 | |
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16 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
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17 belle | |
n.靓女 | |
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18 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
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19 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
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20 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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22 flaring | |
a.火焰摇曳的,过份艳丽的 | |
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23 puddles | |
n.水坑, (尤指道路上的)雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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24 crooked | |
adj.弯曲的;不诚实的,狡猾的,不正当的 | |
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25 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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26 illuminated | |
adj.被照明的;受启迪的 | |
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27 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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28 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
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29 garish | |
adj.华丽而俗气的,华而不实的 | |
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30 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
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31 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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32 elude | |
v.躲避,困惑 | |
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33 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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34 expound | |
v.详述;解释;阐述 | |
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35 creeds | |
(尤指宗教)信条,教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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36 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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37 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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38 smears | |
污迹( smear的名词复数 ); 污斑; (显微镜的)涂片; 诽谤 | |
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39 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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40 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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41 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
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42 savagery | |
n.野性 | |
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43 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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44 petals | |
n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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45 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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46 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
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47 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
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