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Si l'homme n'a rien au- dessus de la bete, que ne coule-t-il ses jours comme elle, sans souci, sans inquietude, sans degout, sans tristesse, dans la felicite des sens et de la chair?" Because he can not!
This news was received with great joy and thankfulness in my family, where we had not been expected so soon, and where the sorrow for my absence was still so keen that my father wrote to my husband: "Chaque fois que je rentre je m'attends a la voir accourir au devant de moi et chaque desillusion est suivie de tristesse. Il n'est pas jusqu'au piano dont le mutisme me fait mal.
Indeed, Arlee thought, that sister was not distinguishing herself by her grateful courtesy to this guest who was brightening the tristesse of her secluded day, but perhaps this was due to her Oriental languor or the limitations of their medium of speech. It was a relief to have the Captain suggest music. At their polite insistence Arlee went to the piano and did her best with a piece of MacDowell.
"'Une tristesse implacable, une effroyable fatalité pèse sui l'oeuvre de l'artiste. Cela ressemble
To which the women replied from the interior, in falsetto, in doleful tones: "Mon père est en chagrin, ma mère en grand' tristesse, Et moi je suis fille de trop grand' merci Pour ouvrir ma porte
You win your battles, they say, upon beer and cordials: it is why you never can follow up a success. Je tiens cela du Marechal Prince B . Let that pass. One groans at your intolerable tristesse. La vie en Angleterre est comme un marais. It is a scandal to human nature. It blows fogs, foul vapours, joint- stiffnesses, agues, pestilences, over us here, yes, here!
We have to make comparisons between La Tristesse d'Olympio, Souvenir, and Le Lac'. That will be something interesting." "The Tristesse d'Olympio?" repeated Giselle, in a tone of interrogation. "You know, of course, that it is Victor Hugo's," said Mademoiselle de Wermant, with a touch of pity. Giselle answered with sincerity and humility, "I only knew that Le Lac was by Lamartine."
On the other hand Colette and Dolly, who never had aspired to literary triumphs, were moved to tears when the "Study on the comparative merits of Three Poems, 'Le Lac, 'Souvenir, and 'La Tristesse d'Olympio," signed "Mademoiselle de Nailles," received the honor of being read aloud.
I had often wondered at this discrepancy between document and tradition. Last spring, when I was in Bath for a few days, my mind brooded especially on the question. Indeed, Bath, with her faded memories, her tristesse, drives one to reverie. Fashion no longer smiles from her windows nor dances in her sunshine, and in her deserted parks the invalids build up their constitutions.
And when she came home from her travels she would develop a taste for long walks, breasting the mountains in rain or sun, penetrating to their austerest solitudes alone, as though haunted by that profound saying of Obermann, 'Man is not made for enjoyment only la tristesse fait aussi partie de ses vastes besoins. What, indeed, was it that ailed her?
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