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Madame Bovary A Tale of Provincial Life
Flaubert, Gustave
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Madame Bovary A Tale of Provincial Life
Flaubert, Gustave
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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. Domi mansit, lanam fecit: He remained at home and wrote, is the first thing that should be said of Gustave Flaubert. This trait, which he shares with many of the writers of his generation, - Renan, Taine, Leconte de Lisle and Dumas fils, - distinguishes them and distinguishes him from those of the preceding generation, who voluntarily sought inspiration in disorder and agitation, - Balzac and George Sand, for instance (to speak only of romance writers), and the elder Dumas or Eugene Sue. Flaubert, indeed, had no outward life; he lived only for his art.
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Information
Topic
LetteraturaSubtopic
ClassiciPART I.
I.
Ā Ā THE NEW BOY.
Ā Ā We were in class when the head-master came in,
followed by a "new fellow," not wearing the school uniform, and a
school servant carrying a large desk. Those who had been asleep
woke up, and every one rose as if just surprised at his work.
Ā Ā The head-master made a sign to us to sit down. Then,
turning to the class-master, he said to him in a low voice:
"Monsieur Roger, here is a pupil whom I recommend to your care;
he'll be in the second. If his work and conduct are satisfactory,
he will go into one of the upper classes, as becomes his age."
Ā Ā The "new fellow," standing in the corner behind the
door so that he could hardly be seen, was a country lad of about
fifteen, and taller than any of us. His hair was cut square on his
forehead like a village chorister's; he looked reliable, but very
ill at ease. Although he was not broad-shouldered, his short school
jacket of green cloth with black buttons must have been tight about
the armholes, and showed at the opening of the cuffs red wrists
accustomed to being bare. His legs, in blue stockings, looked out
from beneath yellow trousers, drawn tight by braces. He wore stout,
ill-cleaned, hobnailed boots.
Ā Ā We began repeating the lesson. He listened with all
his ears, as attentive as if at a sermon, not daring even to cross
his legs or lean on his elbow; and when at two o'clock the bell
rang, the master was obliged to tell him to fall into line with the
rest of us.
Ā Ā When we came back to work, we were in the habit of
throwing our caps on the floor so as to have our hands more free;
we used from the door to toss them under the form, so that they hit
against the wall and made a lot of dust: it was "the thing."
Ā Ā But, whether he had not noticed the trick, or did
not dare to attempt it, the "new fellow" was still holding his cap
on his knees even after prayers were over. It was one of those
head-gears of composite order, in which we can find traces of the
bearskin, shako, billycock hat, sealskin cap, and cotton nightcap;
one of those poor things, in fine, whose dumb ugliness has depths
of expression, like an imbecile's face. Oval, stiffened with
whalebone, it began with three round knobs; then came in succession
lozenges of velvet and rabbit-skin separated by a red band; after
that a sort of bag that ended in a cardboard polygon covered with
complicated braiding, from which hung, at the end of a long, thin
cord, small twisted gold threads in the manner of a tassel. The cap
was new; its peak shone. "Rise," said the master.
Ā Ā He stood up; his cap fell. The whole class began to
laugh. He stooped to pick it up. A neighbor knocked it down again
with his elbow; he picked it up once more. "Get rid of your
helmet," said the master, who was a bit of a wag.
Ā Ā There was a burst of laughter from the boys, which
so thoroughly put the poor lad out of countenance that he did not
know whether to keep his cap in his hand, leave it on the floor, or
put it on his head. He sat down again and placed it on his knee.
"Rise," repeated the master, "and tell me your name."
Ā Ā The new boy articulated in a stammering voice an
unintelligible name. "Again!"
Ā Ā The same sputtering of syllables was heard, drowned
by the tittering of the class. "Louder!" cried the master;
"louder!"
Ā Ā The "new fellow" then took a supreme resolution,
opened an inordinately large mouth, and shouted at the top of his
voice as if calling some one the word, "Charbovari."
Ā Ā A hubbub broke out, rose in crescendo with
bursts of shrill voices (they yelled, barked, stamped, repeated
"Charbovari! Charbovari!"), then died away into single notes,
growing quieter only with great difficulty, and now and again
suddenly recommencing along the line of a form whence rose here and
there, like a damp cracker going off, a stifled laugh.
Ā Ā However, amid a rain of impositions, order was
gradually re-established in the class; and the master having
succeeded in catching the name of "Charles Bovary," having had it
dictated to him, spelt out, and re-read, at once ordered the poor
devil to go and sit down on the punishment form at the foot of the
master's desk. He got up, but before going hesitated. "What are you
looking for?" asked the master. "My c-a-p," timidly said the "new
fellow," casting troubled looks round him. "Five hundred verses for
all the class!" shouted in a furious voice, stopped, like the
Quos ego, a fresh outburst "Silence!" continued the master
indignantly, wiping his brow with his handkerchief, which he had
just taken from his cap. "As to you, 'new boy,' you will conjugate
'ridiculus sum' twenty times." Then, in a gentler tone,
"Come, you'll find your cap again; it hasn't been stolen."
Ā Ā Quiet was restored. Heads bent over desks, and the
"new fellow" remained for two hours in an exemplary attitude,
although from time to time some paper pellet flipped from the tip
of a pen came bang in his face. But he wiped his face with one hand
and continued motionless, his eyes lowered.
Ā Ā In the evening, at preparation, he pulled out his
pens from his desk, arranged his small belongings, and carefully
ruled his paper. We saw him working conscientiously, looking out
every word in the dictionary, and taking the greatest pains.
Thanks, no doubt, to the willingness he showed, he had not to go
down to the class below. But though he knew his rules passably, he
had little finish in composition. It was the curƩ of his village
who had taught him his first Latin; his parents, from motives of
economy, having sent him to school as late as possible.
Ā Ā His father, Monsieur Charles Denis BartolomĆ© Bovary,
retired assistant-surgeon-major, compromised about 1812 in certain
conscription scandals, and forced at that time to leave the
service, had then taken advantage of his fine figure to get hold of
a dowry of sixty thousand francs that offered in the person of a
hosier's daughter who had fallen in love with his good looks. A
fine man, a great talker, making his spurs ring as he walked,
wearing whiskers that ran into his moustache, his fingers always
garnished with rings, and dressed in loud colors, he had the dash
of a military man with the easy air of a commercial traveller. Once
married, he lived for three or four years on his wife's fortune,
dining well, rising late, smoking long porcelain pipes, not coming
in at night till after the theater, and haunting cafƩs. The
father-in-law died, leaving little; he was indignant at this, "went
in for the business," lost some money in it, then retired to the
country, where he thought he would make money. But, as he knew no
more about farming than calico, as he rode his horses instead of
sending them to plough, drank his cider in bottle instead of
selling it in cask, ate the finest poultry in his farmyard, and
greased his hunting-boots with the fat of his pigs, he was not long
in finding out that he would do better to give up all
speculation.
Ā Ā For two hundred francs a year he managed to live on
the border of the provinces of Caux and Picardy, in a kind of place
half farm, half private house; and here, soured, eaten up with
regrets, cursing his luck, jealous of every one, he shut himself up
at the age of forty-five, sick of men, he said, and determined to
live in peace.
Ā Ā His wife had adored him once on a time; she had
bored him with a thousand servilities that had only estranged him
the more. Lively once, expansive and affectionate, in growing older
she had become (after the fashion of wine that, exposed to air,
turns to vinegar) ill-tempered, grumbling, irritable. She had
suffered so much without complaint at first, when she had seen him
going after all the village drabs, and when a score of bad houses
sent him back to her at night, weary, stinking drunk. Then her
pride revolted. After that she was silent, burying her anger in a
dumb stoicism that she maintained till her death. She was
constantly going about looking after business matters. She called
on the lawyers, the president, remembered when bills fell due, got
them renewed, and at home, ironed, sewed, washed, looked after the
workmen, paid the accounts, while he, troubling himself about
nothing, eternally besotted in sleepy sulkiness, whence he only
roused himself to say disagreeable things to her, sat smoking by
the fire and spitting into the cinders.
Ā Ā When she had a child, it had to be sent out to
nurse. When he came home, the lad was spoiled as if he were a
prince. His mother stuffed him with jam; his father let him run
about barefoot, and, playing the philosopher, even said he might as
well go about quite naked like the young of animals. As opposed to
the maternal ideas, he had a certain virile idea of childhood on
which he sought to mould his son, wishing him to be brought up
hardily, like a Spartan, to give him a strong constitution. He sent
him to bed without any fire, taught him to drink off large draughts
of rum, and to jeer at religious processions. But, peaceable by
nature, the lad answered only poorly to his notions. His mother
always kept him near her; she cut out cardboard for him, told him
tales, entertained him with endless monologues full of melancholy
gaiety and charming nonsense. In her life's isolation she centered
on the child's head all her shattered, broken little vanities. She
dreamed of high station; she already saw him, tall, handsome,
clever, settled as an engineer or in the law. She taught him to
read, and even on an old piano she had taught him two or three
little songs. But to all this Monsieur Bovary, caring little for
letters, said: "It is not worth while. Shall we ever have the means
to send him to a public school, to buy him a practice, or to start
him in business? Besides, with cheek a man always gets on in the
world." Madame Bovary bit her lips, and the child knocked about the
village.
Ā Ā He went after the laborers, drove away with clods of
earth the ravens that were flying about. He ate blackberries along
the hedges, minded the geese with a long switch, went haymaking
during harvest, ran about in the woods, played hop-scotch under the
church porch on rainy days, and at great fĆŖtes begged the beadle to
let him toll the bells, that he might hang all his weight on the
long rope and feel himself borne upward by it in its swing.
Meanwhile he grew like an oak; he was strong of hand, fresh of
color.
Ā Ā When he was twelve years old his mother had her own
way; he began his lessons. The curƩ took him in hand; but the
lessons were so short and irregular that they could not be of much
use. They were given at spare moments in the sacristy, standing up,
hurriedly, between a baptism and a burial; or else the curƩ, if he
had not to go out, sent for his pupil after the Angelus.
They went up to his room and settled down; the flies and moths
fluttered round the candle. It was close, the child fell asleep and
the good man, beginning to doze with his hands on his stomach, was
soon snoring with his mouth wide open. On other occasions, when
Monsieur le CurƩ, on his way back after administering the viaticum
to some sick person in the neighborhood, caught sight of Charles
playing about the fields, he called him, lectured him for a quarter
of an hour, and took advantage of the occasion to make him
conjugate his verb at the foot of a tree. The rain interrupted them
or an acquaintance passed. All the same he was always pleased with
him, and even said the "young man" had a very good memory.
Ā Ā Charles could not go on like this. Madame Bovary
took strong steps. Ashamed, or rather tired out, Monsieur Bovary
gave in without a struggle, and they waited one year longer, so
that the lad should take his first communion.
Ā Ā Six months more passed, and the year after Charles
was finally sent to school at Rouen, whither his father took him
towards the end of October, at the time of the St. Romain fair.
Ā Ā It would now be impossible for any of us to remember
anything about him. He was a youth of even temperament, who played
in playtime, worked in school-hours, was attentive in class, slept
well in the dormitory, and ate well in the refectory. He had in
loco parentis a wholesale ironmonger in the Rue Ganterie, who
took him out once a month on Sundays after his shop was shut, sent
him for a walk on the quay to look at the boats, and then brought
him back to college at seven o'clock before supper. Every Thursday
evening he wrote a long letter to his mother with red ink and three
wafers; then he went over his history note-books, or read an old
volume of "Anarchasis" that was knocking about the study. When we
went for walks he talked to the servant who, like himself, came
from the country.
Ā Ā By dint of hard work he kept always about the middle
of the class; once even he got a certificate in natural history.
But at the end of his third year his parents withdrew him from the
school to make him study medicine, convinced that he could even
take his degree by himself.
Ā Ā His mother chose a room for him on the fourth floor
of a dyer's she knew, overlooking the Eau-de-Robec. She made
arrangements for his board, got him furniture, a table and two
chairs, sent home for an old cherry-tree bedstead, and bought
besides a small cast-iron stove with the supply of wood that was to
warm the poor child. Then at the end of a week she departed, after
a thousand injunctions to be good, now that he was going to be left
to himself.
Ā Ā The syllabus that he read on the notice-board
stunned him: lectures on anatomy, lectures on pathology, lectures
on physiology, lectures on pharmacy, lectures on botany and
clinical medicine, and therapeutics, without counting hygiene and
materia medica ā all names of whose etymologies he was ignorant,
and that were to him as so many doors to sanctuaries filled with
magnificent darkness.
Ā Ā He understood nothing of it all; it was all very
well to listen ā he did not follow. Still he worked; he had bound
note-books, he attended all the courses, never missed a single
lecture. He did his little daily task like a mill-horse, who goes
round and round with his eyes bandaged, not knowing what work he is
doing.
Ā Ā To spare him expense his mother sent him every week
by the carrier a piece of veal baked in the oven, on which he
lunched when he came back from the hospital, while he sat kicking
his feet against the wall. After this he had to run off to
lectures, to the operation-room, to the hospital, and return to his
home at the other end of the town. In the evening, after the poor
dinner of his landlord, he went back to his room and set to work
again in his wet clothes, that smoked as he sat in front of the hot
stove.
Ā Ā On the fine summer evenings, at the time when the
close streets are empty, when the servants are playing shuttlecock
at the doors, he opened his window and leaned out. The river, that
makes of this quarter of Rouen a wretched little Venice, flowed
beneath him, between the bridges and the railings, yellow, violet,
or blue. Working men, kneeling on the banks, washed their bare arms
in the water. On poles projecting from the attics, skeins of cotton
were drying in the air. Opposite, beyond the roofs, spread the pure
heaven with the red sun setting. How pleasant it must be at home!
How fresh under the beech-tree! And he expanded his nostrils to
breathe in the sweet odors of the country which did not reach
him.
Ā Ā He grew thin, his figure became taller, his face
took a saddened look that made it almost interesting. Naturally,
through indifference, he abandoned all the resolutions he had made.
Once he missed a lecture; the next day all the lectures; and,
enjoying his idleness, little by little he gave up work altogether.
He got into the habit of going to the public-house, and had a
passion for dominoes. To shut himself up every evening in the dirty
public room, to push about on marble tables the small sheep-bones
with black dots, seemed to him a fine proof of his freedom, which
raised him in his own esteem. It was beginning to see life, the
sweetness of stolen pleasures; and when he entered, he put his hand
on the door-handle with a joy almost sensual. Then many things
hidden within him come out; he learnt couplets by heart and sang
them to his boon companions, became enthusiastic about BĆ©ranger,
learnt how to make punch, and, finally, how to make love.
Ā Ā Thanks to these preparatory labors, he failed
completely in his examination for an ordinary degree. He was
expected home the same night to celebrate his success. He started
on foot, stopped at the beginning of the village, sent for his
mother, and told her all. She excused him, threw the blame of his
failure on the injustice of the examiners, encouraged him a little,
and took upon herself to set matters straight. It was only five
years later that Monsieur Bovary knew the truth; it was old then,
and he accepted it. Moreover, he could not believe that a man born
of him could be a fool.
Ā Ā So Charles set to work again and crammed for his
examination, ceaselessly learning all the old questions by heart.
He passed pretty well. What a happy day for his mother! They gave a
grand dinner.
Ā Ā Where should he go to practise? To Tostes, where
there was only one old doctor. For a long time Madame Bovary had
been on the look-out for his death, and the old fellow had barely
been packed off when Charles was installed, opposite his place, as
his successor.
Ā Ā But it was not everything to have brought up a son,
to have had him taught medicine, and discovered Tostes, where he
could practise it; he must have a wife. She found him one ā the
widow of a bailiff at Dieppe, who was forty-five and had an income
of twelve hundred francs. Though she was ugly, as dry as a bone,
her face with as many pimples as the spring has buds, Madame Dubuc
had no lack of suitors. To attain her ends Madame Bovary had to
oust them all, and she even succeeded in very cleverly baffling the
intrigues of a pork-butcher backed up by the priests.
Ā Ā Charles had seen in marriage the advent of an easier
life, thinking he would be more free to do as he liked with himself
and his money. But his wife was master; he had to say this and not
say that in company, to fast every Friday, dress as she liked,
harass at her bidding those patients who did not pay. She opened
his letters, watched his comings and goings, and listened at the
partition-wall when women came to consult him in his surgery.
Ā Ā She must have her chocolate every morning,
attentions without end. She constantly complained of her nerves,
her chest, her liver. The noise of footsteps made her ill; when
people left her, solitude became odious to her; if they came back,
it was doubtless to see her die. When Charles returned in the
evening, she stretched forth two long thin arms from beneath the
sheets, put them round his neck, and having made him sit down on
the edge of the bed, began to talk to him of her troubles: he was
neglecting her, he loved another. She had been warned she would be
unhappy; and she ended by asking him for a dose of medicine and a
little more love.
II.
A GOOD PATIENT.
One night toward eleven o'clock they were awakened by the noise of a horse pulling up outside their door. The servant opened the garret-window and parleyed for some time with a man in the street below. He came for the doctor, had a letter for him. Nastasie came downstairs shivering and undid the bars and bolts one after the other. The man left his horse, and, following the servant, suddenly came in behind her. He pulled out from his wool cap with grey top-knots a letter wrapped up in a rag and presented it gingerly to Charles, who rested his elbow on the pillow to read it. Nastasie, standing near the bed, held the light. Madame in modesty had turned to the wall and showed only her back.
This letter, sealed with a small seal in blue wax, begged Monsieur Bovary to come immediately to the farm of the Bertaux to set a broken leg. Now from Tostes to the Bertaux was a good eighteen miles across country by way of Longueville and Saint-Victor. It was a dark night; Madame...