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=[http://www.corr-proust.org/letter/03292 Marcel Proust à Jean Cocteau <nowiki>[peu après le lundi 21 mai 1917]</nowiki>]=  
=[http://www.corr-proust.org/letter/03292 Marcel Proust to Jean Cocteau <nowiki>[shortly after 21 May 1917]</nowiki>]=  
<small>(Click on the link above to see this letter and its notes in the ''Corr-Proust'' digital edition, including all relevant hyperlinks.)</small>
<small>(Click on the link above to see this letter and its notes in the ''Corr-Proust'' digital edition, including all relevant hyperlinks.)</small>


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Dear Jean
Cher Jean
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had I not been in the middle of a terrible attack today I would have liked to tell you - and Monsieur Picasso - of the sneezing fits and bouts of despondency that have been unrelentingly provoked in me by the dominical blue and the white astragals of the misunderstood acrobat<ref name="n2" />, dancing “As if hurling reproaches at God” <ref name="n3" /> I live with such nostalgia. The other ballets<ref name="n4" /> were so-so. This one was heart-rending, and continues to unfold in me I can’t tell you what regrets. I still see the mauve horse<ref name="n5" /> like the Swan “with mad gestures, Like ridiculous and sublime exiles”. <ref name="n6" /> “And then I think of you”.<ref name="n7" /> Of you Jean, and I think too of the little girl’s “tartan”, so touching, of the little girl who stops and starts so wonderfully. What concentration in all that, what nourishment for these times of famine and what sorrow when I still had the use of my legs not to have frequented the sawdust of circuses and all that is left to me tonight is heart-rending regret. Thank you dear Jean for helping me in so many ways<ref name="n8" /> to make the effort in the state I was in to go to the Châtelet and seek “The only such delectable bread That is not served at his table By the world we follow”. <ref name="n9" /> How <u>handsome</u> Picasso is!
Si je n’avais une telle crise aujourd’hui je voudrais vous dire – et pour Monsieur Picasso – les éternuements et le spleen que provoque inlassablement en moi le bleu dominical aux astragales blanches de l’acrobate incompris<ref name="n2" />, dansant « Comme s’il adressait des reproches à Dieu. » <ref name="n3" /> Je vis avec cette nostalgie. Les autres ballets<ref name="n4" /> étaient quelconques. Celui-là poignant et continue à développer en moi je vous dirai quels regrets. Je revois le cheval mauve<ref name="n5" /> comme le Cygne « avec ses gestes fous, Comme les exilés ridicule et sublime ». <ref name="n6" /> « Et puis je pense à vous ».<ref name="n7" /> À vous, Jean, et je pense aussi à l’« écossais » de la petite fille, si touchant, de la petite fille qui freine et met en marche si merveilleusement. Quelle concentration dans tout cela, quelle nourriture pour des âges de famine et quel chagrin quand j’avais encore des jambes de n’avoir pas fréquenté la poussière des cirques et tout ce dont j’ai ce soir la déchirante pitié. Merci cher Jean de m’avoir aidé de toutes façons<ref name="n8" /> à faire l'effort dans l'état où j'étais d’aller chercher au Châtelet « Le seul pain si délectable Que ne sert pas à sa table Le monde que nous suivons ». <ref name="n9" /> Comme Picasso est beau.
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Affectionately yours,
Tendrement à vous
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Marcel
Marcel
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<ref name="n1"> Note 1 </ref>
<ref name="n1"> This letter dates from shortly after 21 May 1917, because Proust wrote it after attending one of the Ballet Russes performances held at the Théâtre du Châtelet on the 21 or 23 May 1917. The Ballets Russes left for Madrid 24 May ("Dans les théâtres" [In the theatres], Le Gaulois, 18 May 1917, p. 4). [PK, FP] </ref>


<ref name="n2"> Note 2 </ref>
<ref name="n2"> Note 2 </ref>

Revision as of 07:20, 9 March 2022


Other languages:

Marcel Proust to Jean Cocteau [shortly after 21 May 1917]

(Click on the link above to see this letter and its notes in the Corr-Proust digital edition, including all relevant hyperlinks.)

[1]

Dear Jean

had I not been in the middle of a terrible attack today I would have liked to tell you - and Monsieur Picasso - of the sneezing fits and bouts of despondency that have been unrelentingly provoked in me by the dominical blue and the white astragals of the misunderstood acrobat[2], dancing “As if hurling reproaches at God” [3] I live with such nostalgia. The other ballets[4] were so-so. This one was heart-rending, and continues to unfold in me I can’t tell you what regrets. I still see the mauve horse[5] like the Swan “with mad gestures, Like ridiculous and sublime exiles”. [6] “And then I think of you”.[7] Of you Jean, and I think too of the little girl’s “tartan”, so touching, of the little girl who stops and starts so wonderfully. What concentration in all that, what nourishment for these times of famine and what sorrow when I still had the use of my legs not to have frequented the sawdust of circuses and all that is left to me tonight is heart-rending regret. Thank you dear Jean for helping me in so many ways[8] to make the effort in the state I was in to go to the Châtelet and seek “The only such delectable bread That is not served at his table By the world we follow”. [9] How handsome Picasso is!

Affectionately yours,

Marcel

Notes

  1. This letter dates from shortly after 21 May 1917, because Proust wrote it after attending one of the Ballet Russes performances held at the Théâtre du Châtelet on the 21 or 23 May 1917. The Ballets Russes left for Madrid 24 May ("Dans les théâtres" [In the theatres], Le Gaulois, 18 May 1917, p. 4). [PK, FP]
  2. Note 2
  3. Note 3
  4. Note 4
  5. Note 5
  6. Note 6
  7. Note 7
  8. Note 8
  9. Note 9
  10. Translation notes:
  11. Contributors: