In Search of Lost Time [volumes 1 to 7]. Marcel Proust

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СКАЧАТЬ to cope with all the ‘good friends’ at once, she would raise her voice, ejaculate her words, as she had so often in the ‘little clan’ heard its ‘Mistress’ do, at the moments when she ‘led the conversation.’ The expressions which we have borrowed from other people being those which, for a time at least, we are fondest of using, Mme. Swann used to select at one time those which she had learned from distinguished people whom her husband had not managed to prevent her from getting to know (it was from them that she derived the mannerism which consists in suppressing the article or demonstrative pronoun, in French, before an adjective qualifying a person’s name), at another time others more plebeian (such as “It’s a mere nothing!” the favourite expression of one of her friends), and used to make room for them in all the stories which, by a habit formed among the ‘little clan,’ she loved to tell about people. She would follow these up automatically with, “I do love that story!” or “Do admit, it’s a very good story!” which came to her, through her husband, from the Guermantes, whom she did not know.

      Mme. Swann had left the dining-room, but her husband, who had just returned home, made his appearance among us in turn.’ “Do you know if your mother is alone, Gilberte?” “No, Papa, she has still some people.” “What, still? At seven o’clock! It’s appalling! The poor woman must be absolutely dead. It’s odious.” (At home I had always heard the first syllable of this word pronounced with a long ‘o,’ like ‘ode,’ but M. and Mme. Swann made it short, as in ‘odd.’) “Just think of it; ever since two o’clock this afternoon!” he went on, turning to me. “And Camille tells me that between four and five he let in at least a dozen people. Did I say a dozen? I believe he told me fourteen. No, a dozen; I don’t remember. When I came home I had quite forgotten it was her ‘day,’ and when I saw all those carriages outside the door I thought there must be a wedding in the house. And just now, while I’ve been in the library for a minute, the bell has never stopped ringing; upon my word, it’s given me quite a headache. And are there a lot of them in there still?” “No; only two.” “Who are they, do you know?” “Mme. Cottard and Mme. Bontemps.” “Oh! the wife of the Chief Secretary to the Minister of Posts.” “I know her husband’s a clerk in some Ministry or other, but I don’t know what he does.” Gilberte assumed a babyish manner.

      “What’s that? You silly child, you talk as if you were two years old. What do you mean; ‘a clerk in some Ministry or other’ indeed! He is nothing less than Chief Secretary, chief of the whole show, and what’s more—what on earth am I thinking of? Upon my word, I’m getting as stupid as yourself; he is not the Chief Secretary, he’s the Permanent Secretary.”

      “I don’t know, I’m sure; does that mean a lot, being Permanent Secretary?” answered Gilberte, who never let slip an opportunity of displaying her own indifference to anything that gave her parents cause for vanity. (She may, of course, have considered that she only enhanced the brilliance of such an acquaintance by not seeming to attach any undue importance to it.)

      “I should think it did ‘mean a lot’!” exclaimed Swann, who preferred to this modesty, which might have left me in doubt, a more explicit mode of speech. “Why it means simply that he’s the first man after the Minister. In fact, he’s more important than the Minister, because it is he that does all the work. Besides, it appears that he has immense capacity, a man quite of the first rank, a most distinguished individual. He’s an Officer of the Legion of Honour. A delightful man, he is, and very good-looking too.”

      (This man’s wife, incidentally, had married him against everyone’s wishes and advica because he was a ‘charming creature.’ He had, what may be sufficient to constitute a rare and delicate whole, a fair, silky beard, good features, a nasal voice, powerful lungs and a glass eye.)

      “I may tell you,” he added, turning again to me, “that I am greatly amused to see that lot serving in the present Government, because they are Bontemps of the Bontemps-Chenut family, typical old-fashioned middle-class people, reactionary, clerical, tremendously strait-laced. Your grandfather knew quite well—at least by name and by sight he must have known old Chenut, the father, who never tipped the cabmen more than a ha’penny, though he was a rich enough man for those days, and the Baron Bréau-Chenut. All their money went in the Union Générale smash—you’re too young to remember that, of course—and, gad! they’ve had to get it back as best they could.”

      “He’s the uncle of a little girl who used to come to my lessons, in a class a long way below mine, the famous ‘Albertine.’ She’s certain to be dreadfully ‘fast’ when she’s older, but just now she’s the quaintest spectacle.”

      “She is amazing, this daughter of mine. She knows everyone.”

      “I don’t know her. I only used to see her going about, and hear them calling ‘Albertine’ here, and ‘Albertine’ there. But I do know Mme. Bontemps, and I don’t like her much either.”

      “You are quite wrong; she is charming, pretty, intelligent. In fact, she’s quite clever. I shall go in and say how d’e do to her, and ask her if her husband thinks we’re going to have war, and whether we can rely on King Theodosius. He’s bound to know, don’t you think, since he’s in the counsels of the gods.”

      It was not thus that Swann used to talk in days gone by; but which of us cannot call to mind some royal princess of limited intelligence who let herself be carried off by a footman, and then, ten years later, tried to get back into society, and found that people were not very willing to call upon her; have we not found her spontaneously adopting the language of all the old bores, and, when we referred to some duchess who was at the height of fashion, heard her say: “She came to see me only yesterday,” or “I live a very quiet life.” So that it is superfluous to make a study of manners, since we can deduce them all from psychological laws.

      The Swanns shared this eccentricity of people who have not many friends; a visit, an invitation, a mere friendly word from some one ever so little prominent were for them events to which they aspired to give full publicity. If bad luck would have it that the Verdurins were in London when Odette gave a rather smart dinner-party, arrangements were made by which some common friend was to ‘cable’ a report to them across the Channel. Even the complimentary letters and telegrams received by Odette the Swanns were incapable of keeping to themselves. They spoke of them to their friends, passed them from hand to hand. Thus the Swanns’ drawing-room reminded one of a seaside hotel where telegrams containing the latest news are posted up on a board.

      Still, people who had known the old Swann not merely outside society, as I had known him, but in society, in that Guermantes set which, with certain concessions to Highnesses and Duchesses, was almost infinitely exacting in the matter of wit and charm, from which banishment was sternly decreed for men of real eminence whom its members found boring or vulgar—such people might have been astonished to observe that their old Swann had ceased to be not only discreet when he spoke of his acquaintance, but difficult when he was called upon to enlarge it. How was it that Mme. Bontemps, so common, so ill-natured, failed to exasperate him? How could he possibly describe her as attractive? The memory of the Guermantes set must, one would suppose, have prevented him; as a matter of fact it encouraged him. There was certainly among the Guermantes, as compared with the great majority of groups in society, taste, indeed a refined taste, but also a snobbishness from which there arose the possibility of a momentary interruption in the exercise of that taste. If it were a question of some one who was not indispensable to their circle, of a Minister for Foreign Affairs, a Republican and inclined to be pompous, or of an Academician who talked too much, their taste would be brought to bear heavily against him, Swann would condole with Mme. de Guermantes on having had to sit next to such people at dinner at one of the Embassies, and they would a thousand times rather have a man of fashion, that is to say a man of the Guermantes kind, good for nothing, but endowed with the wit of the Guermantes, some one who was ‘of the same chapel’ as themselves. Only, a Grand Duchess, a Princess of the Blood, should she dine often with СКАЧАТЬ