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Lasting Love
AKA The Chairmender, A Strange Fancy. In French, La Rempailleuse
- GenresShort Stories
Unknown Binding
19 people want to read
About the author
Guy de Maupassant
7,565 books3,070 followersHenri René Albert Guy de Maupassant was a popular 19th-century French writer. He is one of the fathers of the modern short story. A protege of Flaubert, Maupassant's short stories are characterized by their economy of style and their efficient effortless dénouement. He also wrote six short novels. A number of his stories often denote the futility of war and the innocent civilians who get crushed in it - many are set during the Franco-Prussian War of the 1870s.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
November 28, 2016
There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love
As always Maupassant almost made me cry, not really but almost. This was a very emotional read for me.
I am still in the influence of this story.
September 16, 2024
كان لديها الكثير من الحب والقليل من الحظ 💔
November 17, 2024
4.5⭐
AKA: A Strange Fancy; La rempailleuse
A large group of hunters and their wives are debating after a copious dinner the question of whether it were possible to love more than once, and a retired Parisian doctor recounts the most intense and long-lasting unrequited love affair he had ever encountered, involving a respectable pharmacist and a wandering vagabond gypsy girl.
AKA: A Strange Fancy; La rempailleuse
A large group of hunters and their wives are debating after a copious dinner the question of whether it were possible to love more than once, and a retired Parisian doctor recounts the most intense and long-lasting unrequited love affair he had ever encountered, involving a respectable pharmacist and a wandering vagabond gypsy girl.
March 5, 2024
مصلحة الكراسي للاديب جو دي موباسان💗✨️
"وكان ابوها يناديها :-هلا عندتي الي هنا ايتها الفاسقة ! وكانت تلك هي كلمات الحنان الوحيدة التي سمعتها"
هذه هي الجملة المفتاحية لفهم تعلق الطفلة البائسة بأبن الصيدلي شوكيه.
لقد كانت تبحث بين الناس عن اب يحنوا عليها ، حتى لو كان ذلك بمقابل المال .
كيف لهذه الطفلة ان تملك كل هذا الحب و الحنان في قلبها الصغير رغم الحياة القاسية التي عاشتها مع شخصين قاسيين لهذا الحد.😢
"وكان ابوها يناديها :-هلا عندتي الي هنا ايتها الفاسقة ! وكانت تلك هي كلمات الحنان الوحيدة التي سمعتها"
هذه هي الجملة المفتاحية لفهم تعلق الطفلة البائسة بأبن الصيدلي شوكيه.
لقد كانت تبحث بين الناس عن اب يحنوا عليها ، حتى لو كان ذلك بمقابل المال .
كيف لهذه الطفلة ان تملك كل هذا الحب و الحنان في قلبها الصغير رغم الحياة القاسية التي عاشتها مع شخصين قاسيين لهذا الحد.😢
October 8, 2017
"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love."
March 8, 2024
وحدهن النساء يعرفن كيف يحببن
January 5, 2023
Guy de Maupassant's "Lasting Love" is truly a tragic short story in a sense not related to any physical or psychological true harm but one of a mean and selfish beings.
Story in short- The subject can one love with a passion more than once?
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20828
It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20831
by those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20834
strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. “I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one’s heart and soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, and so on till death. It is with love
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as with drink. He who has once indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament.” They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had said, a thing of temperament. “As for me,” he said, “I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five years without one day’s respite, and which ended only with death.” The wife of the marquis clasped her hands. “That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way!
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert
A lawyer hears the story of a poor working older woman who meets Chouquet when they are both children. The poor little girl who knows no love from her parents, finds it in giving a young rich boy who is crying some money and a kiss. She is able to kiss he a couple times over the years and he accepts her money. He comes back years later married which the poor girl heartbroken and looks to kill herself but is saved by Chouquet, not knowing or really caring who see is. She sees him and buys from his shop and saves money throughout her life so this loved man can think kindly after her death. The lawyer comes to tell the tale but Chouquet and his wife are disgusted in hearing this story and would have locked the poor woman up if she was still alive, until their greed on hearing the vast sum of money is inflamed. They accept her money but refuse her animal only wanting what makes them rich. The poor woman who can gives so much, would she still wish if she had known his attitude? Probably!
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What bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so adored!” The doctor smiled. “You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau.” The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with
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“Pouah!” for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor continued: “Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They
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visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, ‘Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!’ “When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken chairs. Then it was she made friends
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with the children in the street, but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. “One day — she was then eleven years old — as she was walking through a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards (mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied
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envied mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw her arms round him and gave him a hug — then she ran away. “What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had
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sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father’s drug store, she
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caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. The following year she met him near the school playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty
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centimes! A real gold mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. “After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her laugh with
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joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely recognized him, he was so changed,
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had grown taller, better looking and was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from that time loved and suffered unceasingly. “Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, hopelessly. She said to me: “‘He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don’t even know if another exists.’ Her parents died. She continued their work. “One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his arm. She was his wife. That night the chair-mender threw herself into the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. Without seeming to know who she was he
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undressed her and rubbed her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice: “‘You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.’ His voice brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted. “All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to him and to see him closely. In this
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way, she was still able to give him money. “As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied.
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They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by ‘that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!’ he swore with indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: ‘That beggar! That beggar!’
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“Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and began striding about. He muttered: ‘Can you understand anything so horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have escaped.’ “I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to finish my mission. ‘She commissioned me,’ I said, ‘to give you her savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As
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what I have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would prefer to give this money to the poor.’ “They looked at me, that man and woman,’ speechless with amazement. I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. Then I asked: “‘What is your decision?’ “Madame Chouquet spoke first. ‘Well, since it is the dying woman’s
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wish, it seems to me impossible to refuse it.’ “Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: ‘We could buy something for our children with it.’ “I answered dryly: ‘As you wish.’ “He replied: ‘Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.’ “I gave them the money, bowed and left. “The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely:
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“‘That woman left her wagon here — what have you done with it?’ “‘Nothing; take it if you wish.’ “‘It’s just what I wanted,’ he added, and walked off. I called him back and said: “‘She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don’t you need them?’ “He stared at me surprised: ‘Well, no! Really, what would I do with them?’ “‘Dispose of them as you like.’ “He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The doctor and the druggist in
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a country village must not be at enmity. I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life.” The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed and said: “There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love.”
Story in short- The subject can one love with a passion more than once?
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20828
It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20831
by those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20834
strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. “I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one’s heart and soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, and so on till death. It is with love
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20838
as with drink. He who has once indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament.” They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had said, a thing of temperament. “As for me,” he said, “I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five years without one day’s respite, and which ended only with death.” The wife of the marquis clasped her hands. “That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way!
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert
A lawyer hears the story of a poor working older woman who meets Chouquet when they are both children. The poor little girl who knows no love from her parents, finds it in giving a young rich boy who is crying some money and a kiss. She is able to kiss he a couple times over the years and he accepts her money. He comes back years later married which the poor girl heartbroken and looks to kill herself but is saved by Chouquet, not knowing or really caring who see is. She sees him and buys from his shop and saves money throughout her life so this loved man can think kindly after her death. The lawyer comes to tell the tale but Chouquet and his wife are disgusted in hearing this story and would have locked the poor woman up if she was still alive, until their greed on hearing the vast sum of money is inflamed. They accept her money but refuse her animal only wanting what makes them rich. The poor woman who can gives so much, would she still wish if she had known his attitude? Probably!
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20842
What bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so adored!” The doctor smiled. “You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau.” The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20846
“Pouah!” for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor continued: “Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20849
visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, ‘Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!’ “When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken chairs. Then it was she made friends
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20853
with the children in the street, but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. “One day — she was then eleven years old — as she was walking through a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards (mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20856
envied mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw her arms round him and gave him a hug — then she ran away. “What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20860
sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father’s drug store, she
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20864
caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. The following year she met him near the school playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20867
centimes! A real gold mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. “After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her laugh with
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20871
joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely recognized him, he was so changed,
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20874
had grown taller, better looking and was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from that time loved and suffered unceasingly. “Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, hopelessly. She said to me: “‘He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don’t even know if another exists.’ Her parents died. She continued their work. “One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his arm. She was his wife. That night the chair-mender threw herself into the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. Without seeming to know who she was he
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20881
undressed her and rubbed her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice: “‘You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.’ His voice brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted. “All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to him and to see him closely. In this
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20885
way, she was still able to give him money. “As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20888
They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by ‘that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!’ he swore with indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: ‘That beggar! That beggar!’
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20892
“Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and began striding about. He muttered: ‘Can you understand anything so horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have escaped.’ “I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to finish my mission. ‘She commissioned me,’ I said, ‘to give you her savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20896
what I have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would prefer to give this money to the poor.’ “They looked at me, that man and woman,’ speechless with amazement. I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. Then I asked: “‘What is your decision?’ “Madame Chouquet spoke first. ‘Well, since it is the dying woman’s
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20900
wish, it seems to me impossible to refuse it.’ “Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: ‘We could buy something for our children with it.’ “I answered dryly: ‘As you wish.’ “He replied: ‘Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.’ “I gave them the money, bowed and left. “The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely:
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20904
“‘That woman left her wagon here — what have you done with it?’ “‘Nothing; take it if you wish.’ “‘It’s just what I wanted,’ he added, and walked off. I called him back and said: “‘She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don’t you need them?’ “He stared at me surprised: ‘Well, no! Really, what would I do with them?’ “‘Dispose of them as you like.’ “He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The doctor and the druggist in
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 20910
a country village must not be at enmity. I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life.” The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed and said: “There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love.”
October 15, 2017
"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love."
May 1, 2021
This really needed a better ending. So sad
March 16, 2024
أعتقد أن هذا الحب لو كان من طرفين لن يستمر طويلا ذلك أن الإنسان يسعى دوما وراء الأشياء التي يصعب الحصول عليها .. كذلك مع الأشخاص .. وهذه طبيعة موجودة في البشر .. فإذا كان الشيء سهل يضحى مملا وإذا كان صعبا يضحى مثيرا .. مثل لعبة تحتوي غموضا وأحداث مجهولة نسعى لأن نصل إليها..
June 10, 2021
Great, except for the sexist last sentence.
March 24, 2024
“There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love.”
It nearly made me cry.
It nearly made me cry.
September 30, 2024
النقاش الازلي عن الحب... هل هو حدث لمرة واحدة ام قابل للتكرار؟
تختلف الاجابات باختلاف التجارب
ولكن بعض القصص قد تحمل كلا الجوابين...
تختلف الاجابات باختلاف التجارب
ولكن بعض القصص قد تحمل كلا الجوابين...
March 9, 2024
لطف يترك ندبه في القلب.
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