Also I got all the characters confused, especially since many of them seemed to have two or three names. However, it was fascinating from a historical perspective. View all 5 comments. View 1 comment. These three short stories are an interesting little set. I tend to rate the stories differently, as they vary in quality. The first story, "A simple heart" is very good, with some lovely descriptions of rural France along with the character of Felicite. Loulou the parrot also makes his appearance. It has overtones of the Arabian Nights in it's style and mystical elements.
It concerns John the Bap These three short stories are an interesting little set.
It concerns John the Baptist and his beheading. It was a little confusing to me in parts. All these stories were worth reading, and I would rate this little volume 3. Some easy, not overly ambitious stories here. It's strange to be presented with linear narratives, we are so influenced by modernism and post-modernism.
He writes well, and there are some nice moments, but it's not worth rushing out to get this in my opinion. Aug 18, Claudiu D. Trei povestiri de-ale lui Flaubert. Prima cred ca a fost cea mai buna si cea mai consistenta. A doua mi-a adus aminte de Laur al lui Vodolazkin. A treia e istorie biblica romantata. This is an interesting collection of stories. As the Translator's Preface says, "These three short stories by Flaubert are unlike anyone else's, and they are also unlike much of his own work, for another reason than their shortness. The first story is called A Simple Heart and is most like what I anticipated.
It is followed by The Legend of St. Julian the Hospitaller. This is more of a fable and takes place during the middle ages. The final story is called Herodias and takes place in Biblical times. In fact it incorporates the story of John the Baptist after he was imprisoned by King Herod. Before daybreak one morning the Tetrarch Herod Antipas came out to lean on it and look round him. The mountains immediately under his eyes were beginning to unveil their crests, while their main bulk was still in shadow to the bottom of the chasms.
A mist was floating; it parted, and the contours of the Dead Sea appeared. Soon it lit up the sands on the beach, the hills, the desert, and, still further, the mountains of Judea, and steepened their grey, knotted surfaces. I'll give it 4 stars solely for the first story, the other two had beautiful prose but I didn't care much for. If we're playing favorites, then A Simple Heart was sort of my favorite; but the ending of the Saint Julian story was just some very in-your-face type of ending, and i guess it was the most beautiful thing about this book.
I have to admit that even though I went to church when I was a kid and I kind of understand some forms of American Protestant Christianity, stories of faith, especially Catholic faith are, not exactly lost on me but, a bit of a struggle for me imaginatively. This collection is sort of like the Simpsons episode with the triptych of Bible stories. The first story involves an understanding of visions of faith and symbols in the material world, the second story is the telling of the life of a saint I have to admit that even though I went to church when I was a kid and I kind of understand some forms of American Protestant Christianity, stories of faith, especially Catholic faith are, not exactly lost on me but, a bit of a struggle for me imaginatively.
The first story involves an understanding of visions of faith and symbols in the material world, the second story is the telling of the life of a saint as gleaned from the stained glass windows in a cathedral, and the third is a retelling of Saint John the Baptist and Salome in the court of Herod. So there you have it. So why read it or not? They are definitely tales…. So I will end this by simply saying, I more or less liked these, am interested in reading Madame Bovary sometime soon, and am always rewarded by taking on a kind of challenge and doing my best with it.
He then added that his parents were looking around for a wife for him, but that he, himself, was not so anxious and preferred to wait for a girl who suited him. She hung her head. He then asked her whether she had ever thought of marrying. She replied, smilingly, that it was wrong of him to make fun of her.
The air was soft, the stars were bright, and the huge load of hay oscillated in front of them, drawn by four horses whose ponderous hoofs raised clouds of dust. Without a word from their driver they turned to the right. He kissed her again and she went home. The following week, Theodore obtained meetings. They met in yards, behind walls or under isolated trees. She was not ignorant, as girls of well-to-do families are—for the animals had instructed her;—but her reason and her instinct of honour kept her from falling. She would not believe him at first, so he made solemn promises. But, in a short time he mentioned a difficulty; the previous year, his parents had purchased a substitute for him; but any day he might be drafted and the prospect of serving in the army alarmed him greatly.
To Felicite his cowardice appeared a proof of his love for her, and her devotion to him grew stronger. When she met him, he would torture her with his fears and his entreaties. When the time grew near, she ran to meet her lover. But instead of Theodore, one of his friends was at the meeting-place. He informed her that she would never see her sweetheart again; for, in order to escape the conscription, he had married a rich old woman, Madame Lehoussais, of Toucques.
The towers at its four corners had pointed roofs covered with leaden tiles, and the foundation rested upon solid rocks, which descended abruptly to the bottom of the moat. In the courtyard, the stone flagging was as immaculate as the floor of a church. Long rain-spouts, representing dragons with yawning jaws, directed the water towards the cistern, and on each window-sill of the castle a basil or a heliotrope bush bloomed, in painted flower-pots.
A second enclosure, surrounded by a fence, comprised a fruit-orchard, a garden decorated with figures wrought in bright-hued flowers, an arbour with several bowers, and a mall for the diversion of the pages.
Women Dramatists, Humor, and the French Stage
On the other side were the kennel, the stables, the bakery, the wine-press and the barns. Around these spread a pasture, also enclosed by a strong hedge. Peace had reigned so long that the portcullis was never lowered; the moats were filled with water; swallows built their nests in the cracks of the battlements, and as soon as the sun shone too strongly, the archer who all day long paced to and fro on the curtain, withdrew to the watch-tower and slept soundly.
Inside the castle, the locks on the doors shone brightly; costly tapestries hung in the apartments to keep out the cold; the closets overflowed with linen, the cellar was filled with casks of wine, and the oak chests fairly groaned under the weight of money-bags. This apartment had three naves, like a basilica, which were separated by columns of sandalwood, whose capitals were of sculptured bonze.
On each side of the apartment was a gallery for spectators, and a third, with a facade of gold filigree, was at one end, opposite an immense arch at the other. The candelabra burning on the tables, which were spread the whole length of the banqueting-hall, glowed like clusters of flaming flowers among the painted cups, the plates of shining copper, the cubes of snow and heaps of luscious grapes. Through the large windows the guests could see lighted torches on the terraces of the neighbouring houses; for this night Antipas was giving a feast to his friends, his own people, and to anyone that presented himself at the castle.
The slaves, alert as dogs, glided about noiselessly in felt sandals, carrying dishes to and fro. The table of the proconsul was placed beneath the gilded balcony upon a platform of sycamore wood. Rich tapestries from Babylon were hung about the pavilion, giving a certain effect of seclusion. Upon three ivory couches, one facing the great hall, and the other two placed one on either side of the pavilion, reclined Vitellius, his son Aulus, and Antipas; the proconsul being near the door, at the left, Aulus on the right, the tetrarch occupying the middle couch.
Antipas wore a heavy black mantle, the texture of which was almost hidden by coloured embroideries and glittering decorations; his beard was spread out like a fan; blue powder had been scattered over his hair, and on his head rested a diadem covered with precious stones. Vitellius still wore the purple band, the emblem of his rank, crossed diagonally over a linen toga. I don't think I'll ever really love Flaubert. I want to so bad because his writing is fucking exquisite. I wouldn't say a word if this was labelled as poetry, but I don't enjoy his stories.
I don't have any bad critics about them and I can understand why some may adore him but I just don't So there you go I'll give this author another try in ten years, maybe. This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. Par la suite, le perroquet attrape une otite qui la rend pratiquement sourde.
fiction | Jane Eaton Hamilton
Heureuse d'une telle surprise, elle les nourrit et les loge avec faste offrant sa chambre et son lit pour le repos. Julien devient mendiant, erre de par le monde, se supplicie et expie sa faute par tous les moyens que le destin met sur sa route. L'homme a faim ; il le nourrit de pain noir. I found her faith to be shallow if sweet and the relationship with the parrot, both alive and stuffed, was touching.
I especially enjoyed how Julian was partly man of his time but cruel even by the standards of a cruel age. The end part with a crusty, leprosy-ridden Christ figure that requests help from the penitent Saint Julian. The story becomes peculiarly sexual as leprosy-Jesus strips piece by piece and lies closer to Julian until he spoons pox-ridden Christ to death.
It was a little sluggish and drowns in its incidental details. None of the people come alive at all. John merely spouts bits of Bible, Herod and Herodias are very bland and blank. I enjoyed this collection reasonably enough but feel I either lack the narrative subtlety of palate to really get the most out of these stories or any short stories possibly. That said, I enjoyed how the stories worked thematically, showing three different kinds of sainthood, which made the collection a little better than the stories in themselves.
I first read this years ago, and have just finished re-reading it. Three very different tales with Christianity as a common thread. While it's unsurprisingly very well-written, and I enjoyed the depiction of small town life in Normandy, I do have a little problem with it in that it feels quite patronising even if the narrator does not pass judgement. I could draw parallels with dul I first read this years ago, and have just finished re-reading it. I could draw parallels with dull and unimaginative Charles Bovary in that respect. As a fairy-tale retelling of the legend of this saint, dates and places remain vague, and there are supernatural elements in the forms of prophecies and talking animals.
Again, our central character ends up personifying selflessness, but only after the fulfilling of that terrible prophecy breaks him and makes him renounce his previous cruel and very bloodthirsty ways. This time the tale is a historical one. Even so, I accepted that some things would fly over my head, but I'd keep focusing on the central story, and I grew to enjoy it more as I kept reading. I had intended on reading only the Legend of St. However, given that the other two tales in Flaubert's collection were also short, I decided to complete them also.
Ma Jeunesse au Christ. Grain de sel. Conseil Protestant de la Jeunesse, 47 rue de Clichy, Paris 9e. Journal protestant. Rayon de Soleil. Les Amis de la Jeunesse, 56 rue Vauvenargues, Paris. Journal des Jeunes et du Foyer. Les Amis de la Jeunesse.
Les journaux pour enfants en 1953. Bibliographie critique
Mensuel, ans. Coups de Pattes. Tout Droit. Le Routier. Petites Ailes. En Route. Francs Jeux. Publications Enfantines, rue d'Assas, Paris 6e. Terre des Jeunes. Publications Enfantines. Vaillant, 5 faubourg Montmartre, Paris. On ne peut que lui souhaiter de toucher massivement le public adolescent auquel il s'adresse. Mensuel, plus de 12 ans.
Jaunes : sournois. Violence, guerre, espionnage, invraisemblances font de cette publication un danger pour les jeunes. Journal qui semble avoir pour but essentiel la propagande antijaune, et antinoire. Ardan est une sous-mouture du personnage de Tarzan. Histoire de guerre, baignant dans un climat de violence et d'horreur. Benjamin, 13 rue Saint-Georges, Paris 9e.
S'adresse aux enfants des classes moyennes. Bonne Presse, 5 rue Bayard, Paris 8e. Tendances moralisatrices et de propagation de la foi catholique.
Bonne Presse. French-Bill Cavalier du Far-West.
French English Dictionary
Brunier, 57 bis avenue de Saxe, Paris 7e. Petit Riquet Reporter. Titi et Popol.
Assez faible, mais sans danger. Les Gais Jeudis. Gais Jeudis Tropic. Son titre est tout un programme et son contenu vaut le titre. Gais Jeudis Myster. Publications dans le style le plus mauvais des journaux pour enfants. Paris romans en images. Buck John. Climat de violence, d'espionnage et de guerre. Sans commentaires. Quatre Jeudis. Voir Plutos. Journal de Mickey. Monde, 7 rue de la Paix, Paris 2e. Montsouris, 1 rue Gazau, Paris 14e. Coq Hardi. Ray Flo, 9 rue Perdonnet, Paris 10e. Un des plus mauvais journaux pour enfants, d'un racisme grossier. Jean Lynx. Ray Flo. Bill Cyclone.
Deux Risque-Tout. Invraisemblances nombreuses. Jim Cartouche. Junior Aventures. Junior Espionnage. Les Trois Scouts. Kid Oklahoma. Tom et Jerry.
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