Translations:CP 03024/7/en: Difference between revisions

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(Created page with "But I would prefer to introduce you to some characters that you don’t yet know, one above all who plays the most important role and determines the turn of events<ref name="n9" />, Albertine. You will see her when she is still only a “young girl in bloom” in the shadow of whom I spend many happy times in Balbec<ref name="n10" />. Then when I become suspicious of her over trifles, and have my confidence in her restored by trifles - “because it is a characteristic o...")
 
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But I would prefer to introduce you to some characters that you don’t yet know, one above all who plays the most important role and determines the turn of events<ref name="n9" />, Albertine. You will see her when she is still only a “young girl in bloom” in the shadow of whom I spend many happy times in Balbec<ref name="n10" />. Then when I become suspicious of her over trifles, and have my confidence in her restored by trifles - “because it is a characteristic of love that it make us at the same time more distrustful and more credulous<ref name="n11" />". - I should have left it at that. “The wisest course would have been to consider with curiosity, to possess with delight, that little portion of happiness without which I might have died and never have suspected what it could mean to hearts less difficult to please or more favoured. I should have left, I should have shut myself up in solitude, remained there in harmony with the voice which I had contrived to render loving for an instant, and of which I should have asked nothing more than that it might never address another word to me, for fear lest, by an additional word which from then on could only be different, it might shatter with its dissonance the sensory silence in which, as though through the application of a pedal, there might have survived some tonality of happiness<ref name="n12" />." Yet little by little I tire of her, the idea of marrying her is no longer attractive to me; when, one evening, on our return from one of those dinners at “the Verdurins’ in the country” at which you will finally come to know the true personality of M. de Charlus<ref name="n13" />, she tells me as she is saying goodnight to me that the childhood friend whom she had often mentioned to me, and with whom she still kept up an affectionate relationship, was Mlle Vinteuil. You will see the terrible night that I then spend, at the end of which I come in tears to ask my mother’s permission to get engaged to Albertin<ref name="n14" />. Next you see our lives together during our long engagement, the slavery to which my jealousy reduces her, and which, successfully calming my jealousy, causes to evaporate, or so I think, any desire to marry her<ref name="n15" />. But one day when the weather is so fine that, thinking about all the women who pass by, all the journeys that I could take, I am intending upon asking Albertine to leave, Françoise comes into my room and hands me a letter from my fiancée who has decided to break it off with me and has left that very morning. It was what I thought I had wanted! but I was under so much suffering that I was obliged to promise myself that by the same evening a way would be found to make her come back<ref name="n16" />. “A moment ago I had thought that that was what I had wanted. And seeing how much I had deceived myself, I understood how suffering can reach much deeper into our psychology than the best psychologist, and the knowledge that the elements from which our soul is formed is given to us not through the subtle perceptions of our intelligence - hard, glittering, strange, like a suddenly crystallized salt - but by the abrupt reaction of pain<ref name="n17" />." In the days that follow I can barely take more than a few steps into my room, “I tried not to brush against the chairs, to not notice the piano, nor any of the objects that she had used and all of which, in the private language that my memories had taught them, seemed to be seeking to give me a new translation of her departure. I sank down into an armchair, I could not remain in it, because I had only ever sat in it when she was still there; and so at every moment there was one or more of those innumerable and humble selves that compose our personality which would have to be told of Albertine’s departure and which must be made to hear the words that were as yet unknown to it: “Albertine has gone.<ref name="n18" />." “And so for every action I might make, however trivial, and which up until then had been suffused with the blissful atmosphere of her presence, I was obliged, at renewed cost, with the same pain, to begin all over again the apprenticeship of separation. Then the competition of other forms of life…  As soon as I was conscious of this, I was panic-stricken. This calm which I had just enjoyed was the first apparition of that great intermittent force which was now going to wage war in me against grief, against love, and would ultimately get the better of them<ref name="n19" />." This is all about the act of forgetting but this page is already half filled up so I will have to pass over all that if I want to tell you about the end.  Albertine does not come back, I begin to wish for her death so that no one else can possess her. “How could Swann have believed in the past that had Odette perished, the victim of an accident, he would have regained, if not his happiness then at least some calm by the suppression of suffering. The suppression of suffering! Could I really have believed that, have believed that death merely strikes out what exist<ref name="n20" />." I learn of the death of Albertine.
But I would prefer to introduce you to some characters that you don’t yet know, one above all who plays the most important role and determines the turn of events<ref name="n9" />, Albertine. You will see her when she is still only a “young girl in bloom” in the shadow of whom I spend many happy times in Balbec<ref name="n10" />. Then when I become suspicious of her over trifles, and have my confidence in her restored by trifles - “because it is a characteristic of love that it make us at the same time more distrustful and more credulous<ref name="n11" />". - I should have left it at that. “The wisest course would have been to consider with curiosity, to possess with delight, that little portion of happiness without which I might have died and never have suspected what it could mean to hearts less difficult to please or more favoured. I should have left, I should have shut myself up in solitude, remained there in harmony with the voice which I had contrived to render loving for an instant, and of which I should have asked nothing more than that it might never address another word to me, for fear lest, by an additional word which from then on could only be different, it might shatter with its dissonance the sensory silence in which, as though through the application of a pedal, there might have survived some tonality of happiness<ref name="n12" />." Yet little by little I tire of her, the idea of marrying her is no longer attractive to me; when, one evening, on our return from one of those dinners at “the Verdurins’ in the country” at which you will finally come to know the true personality of M. de Charlus<ref name="n13" />, she tells me as she is saying goodnight to me that the childhood friend whom she had often mentioned to me, and with whom she still kept up an affectionate relationship, was Mlle Vinteuil. You will see the terrible night that I then spend, at the end of which I come in tears to ask my mother’s permission to get engaged to Albertine<ref name="n14" />. Next you see our lives together during our long engagement, the slavery to which my jealousy reduces her, and which, successfully calming my jealousy, causes to evaporate, or so I think, any desire to marry her<ref name="n15" />. But one day when the weather is so fine that, thinking about all the women who pass by, all the journeys that I could take, I am intending upon asking Albertine to leave, Françoise comes into my room and hands me a letter from my fiancée who has decided to break it off with me and has left that very morning. It was what I thought I had wanted! but I was under so much suffering that I was obliged to promise myself that by the same evening a way would be found to make her come back<ref name="n16" />. “A moment ago I had thought that that was what I had wanted. And seeing how much I had deceived myself, I understood how suffering can reach much deeper into our psychology than the best psychologist, and the knowledge that the elements from which our soul is formed is given to us not through the subtle perceptions of our intelligence - hard, glittering, strange, like a suddenly crystallized salt - but by the abrupt reaction of pain<ref name="n17" />." In the days that follow I can barely take more than a few steps into my room, “I tried not to brush against the chairs, to not notice the piano, nor any of the objects that she had used and all of which, in the private language that my memories had taught them, seemed to be seeking to give me a new translation of her departure. I sank down into an armchair, I could not remain in it, because I had only ever sat in it when she was still there; and so at every moment there was one or more of those innumerable and humble selves that compose our personality which would have to be told of Albertine’s departure and which must be made to hear the words that were as yet unknown to it: “Albertine has gone.<ref name="n18" />." “And so for every action I might make, however trivial, and which up until then had been suffused with the blissful atmosphere of her presence, I was obliged, at renewed cost, with the same pain, to begin all over again the apprenticeship of separation. Then the competition of other forms of life…  As soon as I was conscious of this, I was panic-stricken. This calm which I had just enjoyed was the first apparition of that great intermittent force which was now going to wage war in me against grief, against love, and would ultimately get the better of them<ref name="n19" />." This is all about the act of forgetting but this page is already half filled up so I will have to pass over all that if I want to tell you about the end.  Albertine does not come back, I begin to wish for her death so that no one else can possess her. “How could Swann have believed in the past that had Odette perished, the victim of an accident, he would have regained, if not his happiness then at least some calm by the suppression of suffering. The suppression of suffering! Could I really have believed that, have believed that death merely strikes out what exist<ref name="n20" />." I learn of the death of Albertine.

Revision as of 10:53, 8 December 2021

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Mais j'aimerais mieux vous présenter les personnages que vous ne connaissez pas encore, celui surtout qui joue le plus grand rôle et amène la péripétie<ref name="n9" />, Albertine. Vous la verrez quand elle n'est encore qu'une « jeune fille en fleurs » à l'ombre de laquelle je passe de si bonnes heures à Balbec<ref name="n10" />. Puis quand je la soupçonne sur des riens, et pour des riens aussi lui rends ma confiance – « car c'est le propre de l'amour de nous rendre à la fois plus défiant et plus crédule<ref name="n11" /> ». — J'aurais dû en rester là. « La sagesse eût été de considérer avec curiosité, de posséder avec délices cette petite parcelle de bonheur à défaut de laquelle je serais mort sans avoir jamais soupçonné ce que le bonheur peut être pour des cœurs moins difficiles ou plus favorisés. J'aurais dû partir, m'enfermer dans la solitude, y rester en harmonie avec la voix que j'avais su rendre un instant amoureuse et à qui je n'aurais dû plus rien demander que de ne plus s'adresser à moi, de peur que par une parole nouvelle qui ne pouvait plus être que différente, elle vînt blesser d'une dissonance le silence sensitif où, comme grâce à quelque pédale, aurait pu survivre la tonalité du bonheur<ref name="n12" />. » Du reste peu à peu je me fatigue d'elle, le projet de l'épouser ne me plaît plus ; quand, un soir, au retour d'un de ces dîners chez « les Verdurin à la campagne » où vous connaîtrez enfin la personnalité véritable de M. de Charlus<ref name="n13" />, elle me dit en me disant bonsoir que l'amie d'enfance dont elle m'a souvent parlé, et avec qui elle entretient encore de si affectueuses relations, c'est Mlle Vinteuil. Vous verrez la terrible nuit que je passe alors, à la fin de laquelle je viens en pleurant demander à ma mère la permission de me fiancer à Albertine<ref name="n14" />. Puis vous verrez notre vie commune pendant ces longues fiançailles, l'esclavage auquel ma jalousie la réduit, et qui, réussissant à calmer ma jalousie, fait évanouir, du moins je le crois, mon désir de l'épouser<ref name="n15" />. Mais un jour si beau que pensant à toutes les femmes qui passent, à tous les voyages que je pourrais faire, je veux demander à Albertine de nous quitter, Françoise en entrant chez moi me remet une lettre de ma fiancée qui s'est décidée à rompre avec moi et est partie depuis le matin. C'était ce que je croyais désirer ! et je souffrais tant que j'étais obligé de me promettre à moi-même qu'on trouverait d'ici le soir un moyen de la faire revenir<ref name="n16" />. « J'avais cru tout à l'heure que c'était ce que je désirais. En voyant combien je m'étais trompé, je compris combien la souffrance va plus loin en psychologie que le meilleur psychologue, et que la connaissance des éléments composants de notre âme, nous est donnée non par les plus fines perceptions de notre intelligence mais – dure, éclatante, étrange comme un sel soudain cristallisé – par la brusque réaction de la douleur<ref name="n17" />. » Les jours suivants je peux à peine faire quelques pas dans ma chambre, « je tâchais de ne pas frôler les chaises, de ne pas apercevoir le piano, ni aucun des objets dont elle avait usé et qui tous, dans le langage particulier que leur avaient fait mes souvenirs, semblaient vouloir me traduire à nouveau son départ. Je tombai dans un fauteuil, je n'y pus rester, c'est que je ne m'y étais assis que quand elle était encore là ; et ainsi à chaque instant il y avait quelqu'un des innombrables et humbles moi qui nous composent, à qui il fallait notifier son départ, à qui il fallait faire écouter ces mots inconnus pour lui : « Albertine est partie<ref name="n18" />. » Et ainsi pour chaque acte, si minime qu'il fût, qui auparavant baignait dans l'atmosphère de sa présence, il me fallait, à nouveaux frais, avec la même douleur, recommencer l'apprentissage de la séparation. Puis la concurrence des autres formes de la vie... Dès que je m'en aperçus je sentis une terreur panique. Ce calme que je venais de goûter, c'était la première apparition de cette grande force intermittente qui allait lutter contre la douleur, contre l'amour et finirait par en avoir raison<ref name="n19" />. » Il s'agit de l'oubli mais la page est déjà à demi couverte et je suis obligé de passer tout cela si je veux vous dire la fin. Albertine ne revient pas, j'en arrive à souhaiter sa mort pour qu'elle ne soit pas à d'autres. « Comment Swann avait-il pu croire jadis que si Odette périssait victime d'un accident, il eût retrouvé sinon le bonheur, du moins le calme par la suppression de la souffrance. La suppression de la souffrance ! Ai-je vraiment pu le croire, croire que la mort ne fait que biffer ce qui existe<ref name="n20" />. » J'apprends la mort d'Albertine.

But I would prefer to introduce you to some characters that you don’t yet know, one above all who plays the most important role and determines the turn of events[1], Albertine. You will see her when she is still only a “young girl in bloom” in the shadow of whom I spend many happy times in Balbec[2]. Then when I become suspicious of her over trifles, and have my confidence in her restored by trifles - “because it is a characteristic of love that it make us at the same time more distrustful and more credulous[3]". - I should have left it at that. “The wisest course would have been to consider with curiosity, to possess with delight, that little portion of happiness without which I might have died and never have suspected what it could mean to hearts less difficult to please or more favoured. I should have left, I should have shut myself up in solitude, remained there in harmony with the voice which I had contrived to render loving for an instant, and of which I should have asked nothing more than that it might never address another word to me, for fear lest, by an additional word which from then on could only be different, it might shatter with its dissonance the sensory silence in which, as though through the application of a pedal, there might have survived some tonality of happiness[4]." Yet little by little I tire of her, the idea of marrying her is no longer attractive to me; when, one evening, on our return from one of those dinners at “the Verdurins’ in the country” at which you will finally come to know the true personality of M. de Charlus[5], she tells me as she is saying goodnight to me that the childhood friend whom she had often mentioned to me, and with whom she still kept up an affectionate relationship, was Mlle Vinteuil. You will see the terrible night that I then spend, at the end of which I come in tears to ask my mother’s permission to get engaged to Albertine[6]. Next you see our lives together during our long engagement, the slavery to which my jealousy reduces her, and which, successfully calming my jealousy, causes to evaporate, or so I think, any desire to marry her[7]. But one day when the weather is so fine that, thinking about all the women who pass by, all the journeys that I could take, I am intending upon asking Albertine to leave, Françoise comes into my room and hands me a letter from my fiancée who has decided to break it off with me and has left that very morning. It was what I thought I had wanted! but I was under so much suffering that I was obliged to promise myself that by the same evening a way would be found to make her come back[8]. “A moment ago I had thought that that was what I had wanted. And seeing how much I had deceived myself, I understood how suffering can reach much deeper into our psychology than the best psychologist, and the knowledge that the elements from which our soul is formed is given to us not through the subtle perceptions of our intelligence - hard, glittering, strange, like a suddenly crystallized salt - but by the abrupt reaction of pain[9]." In the days that follow I can barely take more than a few steps into my room, “I tried not to brush against the chairs, to not notice the piano, nor any of the objects that she had used and all of which, in the private language that my memories had taught them, seemed to be seeking to give me a new translation of her departure. I sank down into an armchair, I could not remain in it, because I had only ever sat in it when she was still there; and so at every moment there was one or more of those innumerable and humble selves that compose our personality which would have to be told of Albertine’s departure and which must be made to hear the words that were as yet unknown to it: “Albertine has gone.[10]." “And so for every action I might make, however trivial, and which up until then had been suffused with the blissful atmosphere of her presence, I was obliged, at renewed cost, with the same pain, to begin all over again the apprenticeship of separation. Then the competition of other forms of life… As soon as I was conscious of this, I was panic-stricken. This calm which I had just enjoyed was the first apparition of that great intermittent force which was now going to wage war in me against grief, against love, and would ultimately get the better of them[11]." This is all about the act of forgetting but this page is already half filled up so I will have to pass over all that if I want to tell you about the end. Albertine does not come back, I begin to wish for her death so that no one else can possess her. “How could Swann have believed in the past that had Odette perished, the victim of an accident, he would have regained, if not his happiness then at least some calm by the suppression of suffering. The suppression of suffering! Could I really have believed that, have believed that death merely strikes out what exist[12]." I learn of the death of Albertine.

  1. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n9
  2. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n10
  3. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n11
  4. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n12
  5. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n13
  6. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n14
  7. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n15
  8. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n16
  9. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n17
  10. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n18
  11. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n19
  12. ↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named n20
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