Thursday, May 7, 2020

Great Paper: "Madame Bovary" By Gustave Flaubert ~A Conspiracy to Romance~

~Romance Conspiracy~ 
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

A stranger one day talks to Madame Bovary on the sidelines of a town agricultural festival. While the mayor of the town is giving a long drawn out speech about the importance of farming. A young noble from the city province that neighbors the small french town, talks about the nature of the world. According to him the world is owed purely to the interests of love, romance, and the finer passions of life. He conveys this message to Emma Bovary, whilst sitter besides her in the crowd seating. Whispering to her things he thinks of the world. This is what he says... 

 ______________________________________________________________________

Besides, added rudolphe, “perhaps from the worlds point of view they are right.”

“How so?” She asked.

“What?” he said,"Do you really not know, that there exist souls that are ceaselessly in torment? That are driven now to dreams, now to action, driven from the purest passions to the most orgiastic pleasures? No wonder we fling ourselves into all kinds of fantasies and follies!"

She looked at him as one looks at a traveler who has voyaged over strange lands, as he went on - - “we have not even this distraction, us poor women”

“a sad distraction, for happiness isnt found in it.”

“but is it ever found?” She asked.

“yes; one day it comes,” he answered. “It comes one day suddenly, and when one is despairing of it. Then the horizon expands; and it is as if a voice cried,’it is here!’ You feel the need of confiding the whole of your life, of giving everything, sacrificing everything to this being. There is no need for explanations; they understand one another. They have seen each other in dreams!”

Rudolph looked at her with a ___ gaze. “You find it, here it is, this treasure that was so sought after, here before you. It glitters, and it flashes; and yet still one doubts, one does not believe it; one remains dazzled, as if one turned some steely iron darkness straight into light” He passed a hand over his face like a man seized with giddiness.

“Ah again.” Said Rudolph. “Always Duty. I am sick of the word. They are alot of old blockheads in flannel vest and of old women with foot warmers and roseries who constantly drone into our ears, duty , duty, And Ah, by jove!!! ones duty is to feel what is great! Cherish the beautiful and not accept all the conventions of society withthe ignominy that it imposes upon us. Why cry out against the passions? Are they not the one thing beautiful on earth? The source of heroism, of enthusiasm, of poetry, music, the arts, everything in the world!”

“But one must” said Emma “to some extent bow to the opinion of the world and accept its moral code.”

“But there are two of those worlds” he replied. “The small, the conventional world, that of men, that which constantly changes, that which brays out loudly, that makes such commotion here below, of the earth earthly, like the mass of imbeciles that are hanging around down there. But the other, the eternal, that is about us and above us. Like the landscape that surrounds us. And the blue heavens that bring us light.”

Rudolph had drawn nearer to her, and said in a low voice speaking rapidly “does not this conspiracy of the world revolt you? is there a single sentiment it does not condemn? The noblest of instincts, the purest of sympathies are persecuted, slandered; and if at length two poor souls do meet, it is so organized, so reformed, that they cannot even blend together. Yet, they may make the attempt; they will flutter their wings; they will call upon each others name. But all to no matter. Sooner or later, in six months, ten years, they will come together, will love; for fate has decreed it. And of course, they are born for one another.” 

His arms were folded across his knees, and thus lifting his face towards Emma, close by her, he looked at her fixedly. She noticed in his eyes small golden lines radiating from his black pupils; she could even smell the perfume of the pomenade that made his hair glossy. Then a faintness came over her; she recalled the Viscount who had waltzed for her at Vaubyessard, and his beard exhaled like this air, an ardor of vanilla and citron, and mechanically she half-closed her eyes to let better her breath it in.” 
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________

No comments:

Post a Comment