Egotistical memories

From: Stendhal (Marie-Henri Beyle)
Translated by: Verjon Fasho

... In 1817, the man whom I admired the most for his writings, the only one who made a revolution in me, Mr. Comte de Trasi, came to visit me in Hotel d'Italia, in Favar square. I have never been so amazed before. I have admired him for twelve years Ideology of this man, which one day will be very prominent. They had left a copy of it under the door The history of painting in Italy.

Sit with me for an hour. I admired him so much that, in all likelihood, I lost my temper altogether from the excess of this love. I have never wished to be smarter or nicer than this person. During that time I approached this vast intelligence, contemplated in amazement, begged for knowledge. On the other hand, I still didn't know that I possessed any wisdom.

This improvisation of a pure mind came to me only in 1827.

Mr. Destyt de Trasi, Per of France, member of the Academy, was a small old man, very old, with an elegant and very special appearance. Under the pretense of having been ordained to the throne, he usually wears a wide-brimmed green cap. I have seen him admitted to the Academy by the Comte de Sezhyr, who confessed to him a basket of nonsense in the name of imperial despotism. This, if I am not mistaken, resembled 1811.[1] Although I was strongly attached to the imperial court, I was thoroughly disgusted. "We are falling headlong into military barbarism. We are becoming General Gros"[2] - I said to myself.

Mr. Trasi never wanted his portrait taken. It seems to me that he resembled Pope Korsini Klement, as we find him in the picture of the San-Mari-Mazher church, when you enter on the left. His behavior is perfect, when he is not possessed by that ghastly black mood. I understood his character only in 1822. He is an old Don Juan - almost everything brought him joy. For example, in his salon, Mr. Lafajet[3] it looked more tribal than him (even in 1821). Among other things, the French gentlemen have never appreciated it Ideology and The logic. Monsieur de Tracy was summoned to the Academy by these musty mouthpieces only as the author of a good grammar, and again grievously insulted by that servile Sezhyr, the father of an even more servile son (Monsieur Philip, who wrote our misfortunes of Russia for a decoration by Louis XVIII). This vile Philippe de Sezhyr will serve me as an example of the character I hate most in all Paris: the mold of the faithful governor honored in everything but the decisive steps that a man takes in life.[4]

Recently, this young Philip played against the minister Kazimir Perié (see Debates, May 1832) the role that came to him more successfully to win the favors of this Napoleon, whom he later so shamelessly abandoned, and then the favors of Louis XVIII who was pleased with such people. He understood their meanness best, he reminded them with such kind words in the moments when they did something tribal. Maybe Favrai's friend[5] who was waiting for the news of his death sentence to then say to one of his friends: "Fill your cups with wine!" would completely understand this character. He was one of those men who accepted that he was a filth and managed to laugh at his own filth.

I know very well that the term filth doesn't have the right effect, but I've had my eye on this scumbag Filip Sezhyr. I love and esteem a hundred times more a simple jailer, or a common murderer who has fallen prey to a moment of weakness, and who, moreover, would die of...[6] as usual. In 1826 or '28, this dear Philip was busy impregnating with children a millionaire widow whom he had just seduced and tried to marry (Mrs. G..., widow of a French pariah). On occasion I had dined with General Philip de Sezhyr at the emperor's table. At that time, Philip only complained about his thirteen wounds received in the fight, because at the same time he was also a frightened animal!

In Russia, in this semi-civilized country, he would have become a great hero. In France, people began to understand his meanness. The Garnet Ladies (on the street Double, no. 12) wished to introduce me to his brother, their neighbor (No. 14), if I am not mistaken, which I have refused several times because of this filthy historian of the Russian campaign.

This Comte de Sezhyr, the supreme master of ceremonies at St. Claude in 1811, was dying of grief at not possessing the title of duke. In his eyes, this was more than a disaster, something very inappropriate. All his thoughts were hollow, but he had many of them and, above all. In all of them, he was nothing but ordinariness, but with what incomparable elegance he expressed his personal feelings.

I loved the wife's devoted love for this poor man. Among other things, while talking to him it seemed to me that I was dealing with a Lilliputian creature.

I met Mr. de Sezhyr, supreme master of ceremonies from 1810 to 1814, in the cabinet of Napoleon's ministers, and I did not see him again after the fall of this great man, for whom he was but a weak link. and one more disaster.

Even the nobles of Danzho[7] in the emperor's court, (and there were not a few, for example, my friend Baron Marsiel Dary) even these people could not contain their laughter at the ceremony devised by the Count of Sezhyr during the marriage of Napoleon with Marie-Louise of Austria, and especially in that of the first meeting between them. Although in love with his new royal uniform, Napoleon could not contain himself, but began to laugh at it along with Dyrok. The latter narrated this event to me with his own mouth. I believe that nothing was accomplished by the maze of tiresome trifles. If I had my Paris papers here, I would attach that program to this writing with the profcats of my life.

In 1832, he sighed, saying to himself: "This is how Parisian mediocrity had defeated an Italian: Napoleon!".

Where was I in all this mess? Oh God, how bad this phrase got!

Lord de Sezhyr, mainly in the Council of State, enjoyed quite a bit of greatness. This council was highly reputable. In 1810 he was not merely a crowd of pedants (as in 1832), or a crowd of Kuzes[8], Zhakminosh[9], crowd...[10] and others more obscure.

Excluding the heavyweights, his staunch enemies, Napoleon had assembled in his council the fifty least stupid Frenchmen possible. There were several sections. Sometimes, the war section (where I was a novice under the tutelage of the admirable Guvion de Saint-Cyr[11]), it had to do with the internal section which Mr. de Sezhyr presided over on occasion, I don't know how, but I believe during Renjo's absence[12] powerful (Comte de Saint-Jean-d'Angeli), when he was rarely ill.

In difficult matters, for example, that of raising guards of honor in Piedmont, of which I was a little reporter myself, the elegant and perfect de Sezhyr, unable to find any ideas, would bang his chair, but he made an extremely funny move, grabbing her between her open thighs. After laughing at his helplessness, I said to myself: "But am I the one who is wrong? This was the distinguished ambassador to Catherine the Great, who stole the pen from the ambassador of England.[13] It is the historian of William II or III (I don't remember which, the lover of Lishtno, for whom Benzhamin Constant was dueling)".

In my youth I suffered from the syndrome of excessive respect. When my imagination focused on someone, I stood before him like an owl: I adored his flaws. But the ridiculous side of M. de Sezhyr, leading Napoleon, was, it seemed, too strong for my delicacy.

In addition, for the Comte de Sezhyr, grand master of ceremonies (quite unlike Philip), we could envisage all the most subtle behaviors, with the girl factor of course, leading them to heroism. He also used selected words with charm, but they did not fail to rise above the Lilliputian mass of his ideas.

I made the greatest mistake of not dealing with this dear old man sufficiently from 1821 to 1830. I believe he died out with his venerable wife. But I was stupid. The disgust I felt for the meanness became a passion of its own instead of having fun as I do today with some matters of the court of ...[14]

The Comte de Sezhyr, on my return from England in 1817, had showered me with praise for Rome, Naples and Florence, brochure that I had left behind the gate.

From the bottom of my heart, from a moral point of view, I have always hated Paris. To please the latter, he had to be, like Sezhyri, a great master.

From a physical point of view I never liked Paris. Even earlier, in 1803, I hated it because it was not surrounded by mountains. The mountains of my country (Dauphin), witnesses of the perplexities of the heart, during the first sixteen years of my life, had given me there a habit from which I could never be freed.

I began to cherish Paris after July 28, 1830. Even during the Ordinances, at eleven o'clock in the evening, at the house of Count Réal[15] I mocked the courage of the Parisians and the resistance expected of them. I believe that this fatherly man and his heroic daughter, Baroness Lakyé, have still not forgiven me for this whim of mine.

Today I have consideration for Paris. I agree that for courage he should be ranked at the top as well as for cooking, also for the wisdom he has. It's not that I'm allured by the latter. I have always found it to have a certain comedy in its virtue. Young men born in Paris of provincial fathers, and in that manly zeal to make a fortune, seemed to me like those starry beings, careful only of the outward appearance of their dress, of the exquisite taste about their gray hats. , for well-placed ties, just like ladies Febyrje, Violet-lë-Dyk, etc. I can't imagine a man without some masculine zeal, without consistency and depth in his ideas, etc. All of these are as rare in Paris as rude or even harsh actions.

But I have to close this chapter here. Trying not to lie and not to hide my flaws, I have been forced to write these memories on twenty pages for each session, as if it were an exchange of letters. After my departure from this world, this original manuscript will be printed on card. Maybe this way I will reach the truth, but I have to ask the reader (the latter may have been born in a neighboring house) to forgive me for the frequent digressions outside the topic... /Revista "Akademia"/Telegrafi/

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[1] Lord de Tresi was admitted to the Academy in 1808. He replaced Kabanis.

[2] This general, whom I used to see in Countess Dary's salon, was one of the greatest guards of the imperial guard, and not only that. It had a thick peasant accent, mostly brutal to whip the French, enemies of the breadwinner (the emperor). This character became my black cat so much so that, on the evening of the battle of Moscow, seeing the tents of two or three generals of the guard a few steps away, he escaped and said: "They are a bit insolent... (words of incomprehensible)! Words that barely caught my ear". (Note by H. Bailey).

[3] Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Giletrt du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette (1757-1834), distinguished nobleman and great French soldier, who took part in the American Revolutionary War as supreme leader of troops in several battles. (Translator's note).

[4] Mr. Ror thought that Count de Sezysh had pleasant relations with Bailey? SEE Stendhal, p. 41.

[5] Thomas de Mahy, Marquis de Favras (1744-1790), French nobleman, supporter of the Bourbons during the French Revolution. It is thought that he fell a martyr for the Ruajalist cause, leading him to prison on the pretext that he was conspiring to the detriment of his fellow citizens. In fact, he fell prey to a trap set up by his closest friends (Lafayette is supposed to be among them), but he faced all this with courage. It is remembered for the last words before the execution: "I noticed that in the ordinance of my death sentence there were three spelling mistakes". (Translator's note).

[6] Left blank in manuscript.

[7] Dangeau, commune of France, part of the department of Eure-et-Loir, from which many distinguished noblemen, statesmen, soldiers, and clergymen sprang. (Translator's note).

[8] Victor Cousin (1792-1867), spiritualist philosopher, leader of the eclectic school. (Translator's note).

[9] Jean Francois Jacqueminot (1787-1865), distinguished French general. (Translator's note).

[10] Left blank in manuscript.

[11] Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr (1764-1830), senior French commander during the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. (Translator's note).

[12] Michel Louis Etienne Regnaud (1761-1819), prominent French politician. (Translator's note).

[13] Lord de Sezhyr had much success at the royal court of Russia, diplomatic success and literary success.

[14] Of Rome, obviously.

[15] Pierre-Franchois, comte Réal (1757-1834), prominent French judge and politician. (Translator's note).