Books > Old Books > Call No Man Happy (1943)


Page 029

PARADISE LOST

texts that had been used by my mother in her girlhood; Villemain, bound in brown; Nisard, bound in blue. My parents used to give me as New Year's or birthday presents, in groups of six or eight volumes, Sainte-Beuve's Causeries du Lundi, the works of Taine, Reclus' Geography, and Michelet's Histoire de France. But most important of all, with furtive enthusiasm I used to select from the books in the drawing-room the innumerable bound volumes of Lectures Retrospectives. This was a magazine, now defunct, which reprinted all the masterpieces of the French novel. Thanks to the Lectures I read at that time, when perhaps I was too young, all of Flaubert, all of Maupassant, the early novels of Paul Bourget, of Anatole France, of Marcel Prevost, and of Maurice Barres. I mixed the good and the bad, the serious and the frivolous, history and fiction. From good and bad alike I derived incredibly keen pleasure, literary delight and sensual emotion.
My sensuality awoke early and in ignorance and confusion. My parents' prudishness permitted no request for explanations of those delicious and terrifying subjects. My father, who used to blush if his friends talked about a scandal or repeated a coarse joke in his presence, was far from imagining the seraglio where I kept for the delectation of my daydreams Mademoiselle de Maupin and Madame Bovary. A small book, probably forgotten by now, Monsieur, Madame et Bebe by Gustav Droz, did me a good deal of harm by its sentimental salacity. The word breast encountered in some classic text was enough to excite me. Wholly unprovided with instruction, I had to construct for myself by the aid of novels a picture of the relations between men and women. At school some of my fellow students, who were bolder and had been less strictly brought up, had bizarre adventures. One of them, a doctor's son, told me that a young courtesan of Elbeuf, whom we used to meet on the street and devour with our eyes, was ready to undress in front of us for twenty-five francs. He was looking for five contributors at five francs each to make up the necessary capital. I was terribly tempted but, disgusted by the vulgarity of the scene as I imagined it, I refused.
My true nature was romantic. I have described elsewhere how I read in one of my prize books the story of a band of students who decided to form an army and selected a girl student to be their queen. `The Queen was called Ania Sokoloff. She was a girl of remarkable beauty, slender, elegant and graceful.' I loved the oath the soldiers swore to their Queen,

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE texts that had been used by my mother in her girlhood; Villemain, bound in brown; Nisard, bound in blue. My parents used to give me as New Year's or birthday presents, in groups of six or eight volumes, Sainte-Beuve's Causeries du Lundi, what is works of Taine, Reclus' Geography, and Michelet's Histoire de France. But most important of all, with furtive enthusiasm I used to select from what is books in what is drawing-room what is innumerable bound volumes of Lectures Retrospectives. This was a magazine, now defunct, which reprinted all what is masterpieces of what is French novel. Thanks to what is Lectures I read at that time, when perhaps I was too young, all of Flaubert, all of Maupassant, what is early novels of Paul Bourget, of Anatole France, of Marcel Prevost, and of Maurice Barres. I mixed what is good and what is bad, what is serious and what is frivolous, history and fiction. From good and bad alike I derived incredibly keen pleasure, literary delight and sensual emotion. My sensuality awoke early and in ignorance and confusion. My parents' prudishness permitted no request for explanations of those delicious and terrifying subjects. My father, who used to blush if his friends talked about a scandal or repeated a coarse joke in his presence, was far from imagining what is seraglio where I kept for what is delectation of my daydreams Mademoiselle de Maupin and Madame Bovary. A small book, probably forgotten by now, Monsieur, Madame et Bebe by Gustav Droz, did me a good deal of harm by its sentimental salacity. what is word breast encountered in some classic text was enough to excite me. Wholly unprovided with instruction, I had to construct for myself by what is aid of novels a picture of what is relations between men and women. At school some of my fellow students, who were bolder and had been less strictly brought up, had bizarre adventures. One of them, a doctor's son, told me that a young courtesan of Elbeuf, whom we used to meet on what is street and devour with our eyes, was ready to undress in front of us for twenty-five francs. He was looking for five contributors at five francs each to make up what is necessary capital. I was terribly tempted but, disgusted by what is vulgarity of what is scene as I imagined it, I refused. My true nature was romantic. I have described elsewhere how I read in one of my prize books what is story of a band of students who decided to form an army and selected a girl student to be their queen. `The Queen was called Ania Sokoloff. She was a girl of remarkable beauty, slender, elegant and graceful.' I loved what is oath what is soldiers swore to their Queen, where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 029 where is p align="center" where is strong PARADISE LOST where is p align="justify" texts that had been used by my mother in her girlhood; Villemain, bound in brown; Nisard, bound in blue. My parents used to give me as New Year's or birthday presents, in groups of six or eight volumes, Sainte-Beuve's Causeries du Lundi, what is works of Taine, Reclus' Geography, and Michelet's Histoire de France. But most important of all, with furtive enthusiasm I used to select from what is books in what is drawing-room what is innumerable bound volumes of Lectures Retrospectives. This was a magazine, now defunct, which reprinted all what is masterpieces of what is French novel. Thanks to the Lectures I read at that time, when perhaps I was too young, all of Flaubert, all of Maupassant, what is early novels of Paul Bourget, of Anatole France, of Marcel Prevost, and of Maurice Barres. I mixed what is good and what is bad, what is serious and what is frivolous, history and fiction. From good and bad alike I derived incredibly keen pleasure, literary delight and sensual emotion. My sensuality awoke early and in ignorance and confusion. My parents' prudishness permitted no request for explanations of those delicious and terrifying subjects. My father, who used to blush if his friends talked about a scandal or repeated a coarse joke in his presence, was far from imagining what is seraglio where I kept for what is delectation of my daydreams Mademoiselle de Maupin and Madame Bovary. A small book, probably forgotten by now, Monsieur, Madame et Bebe by Gustav Droz, did me a good deal of harm by its sentimental salacity. The word breast encountered in some classic text was enough to excite me. Wholly unprovided with instruction, I had to construct for myself by what is aid of novels a picture of what is relations between men and women. At school some of my fellow students, who were bolder and had been less strictly brought up, had bizarre adventures. One of them, a doctor's son, told me that a young courtesan of Elbeuf, whom we used to meet on what is street and devour with our eyes, was ready to undress in front of us for twenty-five francs. He was looking for five contributors at five francs each to make up what is necessary capital. I was terribly tempted but, disgusted by what is vulgarity of what is scene as I imagined it, I refused. My true nature was romantic. I have described elsewhere how I read in one of my prize books what is story of a band of students who decided to form an army and selected a girl student to be their queen. `The Queen was called Ania Sokoloff. She was a girl of remarkable beauty, slender, elegant and graceful.' I loved what is oath what is soldiers swore to their Queen, where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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