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He is town-bred and Parisian, jusqu'au bout des ongles. How he admires you, and how I love him for it! Only in one thing he disappoints me there.
With Jules Romains, Scriabine would have cried to his audiences: "Tu vas mourir tantot, sous le poids de tes heures: Les hommes, delies, glisseront par les portes, Les ongles de la nuit t'arracheront la chair. Qu'importe!
This well-bred, well-groomed youth was just the being to realize aux bouts des ongles a modern type of the devil, the type which depicts him as a perfect gentleman, who keeps smiling all the time. The constable whom this audacious rogue had signaled approached the little group. He addressed the stranger: "Do you want me, sir?" "No, I do not want you. I think it is the Duke of Datchet."
No male creature can possibly know what tortures I have to undergo. Mama neatly contrived, after interrupting her, to divert the subject. I think that all the ladies imagined they were in jeopardy, but I knew Mrs. Romer was perfectly to be trusted. She has wit which pleases, jusqu'aux ongles, and her sense of humour never overrides her discretion with more than a glance never with preparation.
Le sang tombe des airs: il dechire, il devore Le reptile acharné, qui le combat encore; Il le perçe, il le tient sous ses ongles vainqeurs, Par cent coups rédoublés il venge ses douleurs; Le Monstre en expirant, se debat, se replie; Il exhale en poison le reste de sa vie; Et l'aigle tout sanglant, fier et victorieux, Le rejette en fureur, et plane au haut des cieux.
Ce seroit faire pis de le faire auec les ongles, mais faites-le auec le curedent. Aussi ne semble-il estre bien-seant de se les nettoyer en table, si ce n'estoit que les autres le fissent, & que ce fust la coustume des mieux ciuilisez. Do not clean your teeth with the tablecloth, napkin, finger, fork, or knife. It were still more objectionable to do so with the nails. Use a toothpick.
Chapter iii. 19. Il ne faut iamais rogner ses ongles dans le public, & bien moins les prendre
No male creature can possibly know what tortures I have to undergo. Mama neatly contrived, after interrupting her, to divert the subject. I think that all the ladies imagined they were in jeopardy, but I knew Mrs. Romer was perfectly to be trusted. She has wit which pleases, jusqu'aux ongles, and her sense of humour never overrides her discretion with more than a glance never with preparation.
Thus the sonata concludes, as it began, enigmatically, like a sphinx with a mocking smile. H. Barbedette remarks in his "Chopin," a criticism without insight and originality, of this finale, "C'est Lazare grattant de ses ongles la pierre de son tombeau et tombant epuise de fatigue, de faim et de desespoir."
The movement is too sombre, its curves too full of half-suppressed meanings, its rush and sub-human growling too expressive of something that defies definition. Schumann compares it to a "sphinx with a mocking smile." To Henri Barbadette "C'est Lazare grattant de ses ongles la pierre de son tombeau," or, like Mendelssohn, one may abhor it, yet it cannot be ignored.
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