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PROUST Marcel (1871-1922)
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PROUST Marcel (1871-1922)
L.A.S. "Marcel", "jeudi en rentrant" [December 23, 1897?], to "mon rat gentil" [Lucien DAUDET]| 6 pages in-8 (small slits in the folds).
Very beautiful and tender letter of consolation shortly after the death of Alphonse
Daudet.
Alphonse Daudet, who died on December 16, 1897, was buried at Père-Lachaise
on Monday, December 20| Proust is tenderly attached to his son. The letter seems UNEDITED (it does not appear in the Correspondence edited by Philip Kolb, nor in Mon cher petit. Letters to Lucien Daudet (ed. Bonduelle)].
He was sad not to see him tonight, but, suffering, he went late to dinner at Durand's with Bibesco and Blum, "and as Bernstein came during dinner to delay us it was more than eleven o'clock ½ when we were finished. Otherwise I might have gone to your house", or again, tomorrow, although in principle he can't go out two days in a row| but his coming out made him much sicker: "I really feel that it will be impossible. And I thought of you, of what is cruel for me not to be more master of my body and not to be able to go near you, to be in that state of health that your father had predicted to me and on which he had advised me to watch over with that clear-sightedness of genius and kindness which, if he lived, could undoubtedly guide us all towards marvellous things. Whatever boundless admiration he had for you, I wonder at times if he knew you entirely, if the reserve, or shyness, at last the whole of the things which are born of family relationships, did not cause you to involuntarily deprive him of a whole side of yourself, and if he did not die without knowing that in you the most exquisite and deepest part of his spirit was integrally transmitted. Perhaps there is something in this more sacred and more touching than you can feel yourself that does not exteriorize yourself enough to realize what is within you - so that your spirit celebrates for me each day a kind of anniversary of your father in spirit and in truth. Not o
L.A.S. "Marcel", "jeudi en rentrant" [December 23, 1897?], to "mon rat gentil" [Lucien DAUDET]| 6 pages in-8 (small slits in the folds).
Very beautiful and tender letter of consolation shortly after the death of Alphonse
Daudet.
Alphonse Daudet, who died on December 16, 1897, was buried at Père-Lachaise
on Monday, December 20| Proust is tenderly attached to his son. The letter seems UNEDITED (it does not appear in the Correspondence edited by Philip Kolb, nor in Mon cher petit. Letters to Lucien Daudet (ed. Bonduelle)].
He was sad not to see him tonight, but, suffering, he went late to dinner at Durand's with Bibesco and Blum, "and as Bernstein came during dinner to delay us it was more than eleven o'clock ½ when we were finished. Otherwise I might have gone to your house", or again, tomorrow, although in principle he can't go out two days in a row| but his coming out made him much sicker: "I really feel that it will be impossible. And I thought of you, of what is cruel for me not to be more master of my body and not to be able to go near you, to be in that state of health that your father had predicted to me and on which he had advised me to watch over with that clear-sightedness of genius and kindness which, if he lived, could undoubtedly guide us all towards marvellous things. Whatever boundless admiration he had for you, I wonder at times if he knew you entirely, if the reserve, or shyness, at last the whole of the things which are born of family relationships, did not cause you to involuntarily deprive him of a whole side of yourself, and if he did not die without knowing that in you the most exquisite and deepest part of his spirit was integrally transmitted. Perhaps there is something in this more sacred and more touching than you can feel yourself that does not exteriorize yourself enough to realize what is within you - so that your spirit celebrates for me each day a kind of anniversary of your father in spirit and in truth. Not o