Madame Bovary - Penn State University
Madame Bovary - Penn State University Madame Bovary - Penn State University
Madame Bovarythe most distant reminiscences, like the most immediate occasions,what she experienced as well as what she imagined, allow herself certain whims. She bought a Gothic prie-dieu,A woman who had laid on herself such sacrifices could wellher voluptuous desires that were unsatisfied, her projects of and in a month spent fourteen francs on lemons for polishinghappiness that crackled in the wind like dead boughs, her her nails; she wrote to Rouen for a blue cashmere gown; shesterile virtue, her lost hopes, the domestic tete-a-tete—she chose one of Lheureux’s finest scarves, and wore it knottedgathered it all up, took everything, and made it all serve as around her waist over her dressing-gown; and, with closedfuel for her melancholy.blinds and a book in her hand, she lay stretched out on aThe flames, however, subsided, either because the supply couch in this garb.had exhausted itself, or because it had been piled up too much. She often changed her coiffure; she did her hair a la Chinoise,Love, little by little, was quelled by absence; regret stifled beneathhabit; and this incendiary light that had empurpled her rolled it under like a man’s.in flowing curls, in plaited coils; she parted in on one side andpale sky was overspread and faded by degrees. In the supinenessof her conscience she even took her repugnance towards mar, and a supply of white paper. She tried serious reading,She wanted to learn Italian; she bought dictionaries, a gram-her husband for aspirations towards her lover, the burning of history, and philosophy. Sometimes in the night Charles wokehate for the warmth of tenderness; but as the tempest still up with a start, thinking he was being called to a patient. “I’mraged, and as passion burnt itself down to the very cinders, coming,”and no help came, no sun rose, there was night on all sides, he stammered; and it was the noise of a match Emma hadand she was lost in the terrible cold that pierced her. struck to relight the lamp. But her reading fared like her pieceThen the evil days of Tostes began again. She thought herselfnow far more unhappy; for she had the experience of board; she took it up, left it, passed on to other books.of embroidery, all of which, only just begun, filled her cup-grief, with the certainty that it would not end.She had attacks in which she could easily have been driven108
Flaubertto commit any folly. She maintained one day, in opposition What should they decide? What was to be done since sheto her husband, that she could drink off a large glass of brandy, rejected all medical treatment? “Do you know what your wifeand, as Charles was stupid enough to dare her to, she swallowedthe brandy to the last drop.“She wants to be forced to occupy herself with some manualwants?” replied Madame Bovary senior.In spite of her vapourish airs (as the housewives of Yonville work.called them), Emma, all the same, never seemed gay, and usuallyshe had at the corners of her mouth that immobile con-she wouldn’t have these vapours, that come to her from a lotIf she were obliged, like so many others, to earn her living,traction that puckers the faces of old maids, and those of men of ideas she stuffs into her head, and from the idleness inwhose ambition has failed. She was pale all over, white as a which she lives.sheet; the skin of her nose was drawn at the nostrils, her eyes Yet she is always busy,” said Charles.looked at you vaguely. After discovering three grey hairs on “Ah! always busy at what? Reading novels, bad books, worksher temples, she talked much of her old age.against religion, and in which they mock at priests in speechesShe often fainted. One day she even spat blood, and, as taken from Voltaire. But all that leads you far astray, my poorCharles fussed around her showing his anxiety—child. Anyone who has no religion always ends by turning“Bah!” she answered, “what does it matter?”out badly.”Charles fled to his study and wept there, both his elbows So it was decided to stop Emma reading novels. The enterprisedid not seem easy. The good lady undertook it. She was,on the table, sitting in an arm-chair at his bureau under thephrenological head.when she passed through Rouen, to go herself to the lendinglibraryand represent that Emma had discontinued her sub-Then he wrote to his mother begging her to come, andthey had many long consultations together on the subject of scription. Would they not have a right to apply to the policeEmma.if the librarian persisted all the same in his poisonous trade?109
- Page 57 and 58: Flaubertalong which, on drawing hea
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- Page 145 and 146: Flaubert“Hush! hush!” said Emma
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Flaubertto commit any folly. She maintained one day, in opposition What should they decide? What was to be done since sheto her husband, that she could drink off a large glass of brandy, rejected all medical treatment? “Do you know what your wifeand, as Charles was stupid enough to dare her to, she swallowedthe brandy to the last drop.“She wants to be forced to occupy herself with some manualwants?” replied <strong>Madame</strong> <strong>Bovary</strong> senior.In spite of her vapourish airs (as the housewives of Yonville work.called them), Emma, all the same, never seemed gay, and usuallyshe had at the corners of her mouth that immobile con-she wouldn’t have these vapours, that come to her from a lotIf she were obliged, like so many others, to earn her living,traction that puckers the faces of old maids, and those of men of ideas she stuffs into her head, and from the idleness inwhose ambition has failed. She was pale all over, white as a which she lives.sheet; the skin of her nose was drawn at the nostrils, her eyes Yet she is always busy,” said Charles.looked at you vaguely. After discovering three grey hairs on “Ah! always busy at what? Reading novels, bad books, worksher temples, she talked much of her old age.against religion, and in which they mock at priests in speechesShe often fainted. One day she even spat blood, and, as taken from Voltaire. But all that leads you far astray, my poorCharles fussed around her showing his anxiety—child. Anyone who has no religion always ends by turning“Bah!” she answered, “what does it matter?”out badly.”Charles fled to his study and wept there, both his elbows So it was decided to stop Emma reading novels. The enterprisedid not seem easy. The good lady undertook it. She was,on the table, sitting in an arm-chair at his bureau under thephrenological head.when she passed through Rouen, to go herself to the lendinglibraryand represent that Emma had discontinued her sub-Then he wrote to his mother begging her to come, andthey had many long consultations together on the subject of scription. Would they not have a right to apply to the policeEmma.if the librarian persisted all the same in his poisonous trade?109