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187 pages, Pocket Book
First published January 1, 2003
How can I imagine my austere old uncle with a woman? I only ever saw him with old Mariette dressed in black, with her blue apron and her hair in a bun, herself resolutely old-fashioned, smiling sometimes, yes, smiling, looking up from her work or into the glass of a window she was busy wiping, and who, I knew, reminded my uncle of Françoise in Swann’s Way? How can I imagine Uncle Charles close to a woman?
Yet, of course, women were not absent from his thoughts. He loved them. I know, I’ve seen it. When he started to talk about them, he just couldn’t stop. But they were always painted women. He talked about them like a lover but, unlike a jealous lover, he gave the impression, while talking about his beloved (the beautiful Eleanor of Toledo, painted by Bronzino, or Giovanna Tornabuoni in the fresco of Sante Maria Novella) that he would have wished you to share his passion and that his dearest wish was for you to fall in love with her too. (p. 26-7)
How can I imagine my austere old uncle with a woman? I only ever saw him with old Mariette dressed in black, with her blue apron and her hair in a bun, herself resolutely old-fashioned, smiling sometimes, yes, smiling, looking up from her work or into the glass of a window she was busy wiping, and who, I knew, reminded my uncle of Françoise in Swann’s Way? How can I imagine Uncle Charles close to a woman?
Yet, of course, women were not absent from his thoughts. He loved them. I know, I’ve seen it. When he started to talk about them, he just couldn’t stop. But they were always painted women. He talked about them like a lover but, unlike a jealous lover, he gave the impression, while talking about his beloved (the beautiful Eleanor of Toledo, painted by Bronzino, or Giovanna Tornabuoni in the fresco of Sante Maria Novella) that he would have wished you to share his passion and that his dearest wish was for you to fall in love with her too. (p. 26-7)