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Waiter, a Bock
Waiter, a "Bock" Guy de Maupassant We are delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive Classic Library collection. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. The aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature, and our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. The contents of the vast majority of titles in the Classic Library have been scanned from the original works. To ensure a high quality product, each title has been meticulously hand curated by our staff. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with a book that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic work, and that for you it becomes an enriching experience.
- GenresShort Stories
26 pages, Paperback
Published June 30, 2018
2 people want to read
About the author
Guy de Maupassant
7,566 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 - 2 of 2 reviews
June 5, 2022
Guy de Maupassant's "Waiter, A Bock" is a truly sad story, though the count had a sad story, he lived a sad life.
Story in short- College chums meet each other in a chance meeting.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10569
I glanced round to find a place that was not too crowded, and went and sat down by the side of a man who seemed to me to be old, and who was smoking a two-sous clay pipe, which was as black as coal. From six to eight glasses piled up on the table in front of him indicated the number of “bocks” he had already absorbed. At a glance I recognized a “regular,” one of those frequenters of beer houses who come in the morning when the place opens, and do not leave till evening when it is about to close. He was dirty, bald on top of his head, with a fringe of iron-gray hair falling on the collar of his frock coat. His clothes, much too large for him, appeared to have been made for him at a time when he was corpulent. One could guess that he did not wear suspenders, for he could not take ten steps without having to stop to pull up his trousers. Did he wear a
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10574
vest? The mere thought of his boots and of that which they covered filled me with horror. The frayed cuffs were perfectly black at the edges, as were his nails. As soon as I had seated myself beside him, this individual said to me in a quiet tone of voice: “How goes it?” I turned sharply round and closely scanned his features, whereupon he continued: “I see you do not recognize me.” “No, I do not.” “Des Barrets.”
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert ❌❌❌❌❌❌
A man meets a college friend and surprised that he looks a lot older and that he is a drunkard. He finally finds out why his friend does nothing but drink, he saw his father beat his mother and sees later that his parents later act like nothing happened. His mother died a couple years later but his father still lives. His world collapsed then but it seems that he wants an accuse to make something better with his life. He could have married and been a good husband.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10579
I was stupefied. It was Count Jean des Barrets, my old college chum. I seized him by the hand, and was so dumbfounded that I could find nothing to say. At length I managed to stammer out: “And you, how goes it with you?” He responded placidly: “I get along as I can.” “What are you doing now?” I asked. “You see what I am doing,” he answered quit resignedly. I felt my face getting red. I insisted:
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10585
“But every day?”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10591
Des Barrets emptied his glass at a single draught and replaced it on the table, while he sucked in the foam that had been left on his mustache. He next asked: “What is there new?” I really had nothing new to tell him. I stammered:
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10594
“Nothing, old man. I am a business man.” In his monotonous tone of voice he said: “Indeed, does it amuse you?” “No, but what can I do? One must do something!” “Why should one?” “So as to have occupation.” “What’s the use of an occupation? For my part, I do nothing at all, as you see, never anything. When one has not a sou I can understand why one should work. But when one has enough to live on, what’s the use?
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10599
What is the good of working? Do you work for yourself, or for others? If you work for yourself, you do it for your own amusement, which is all right; if you work for others, you are a fool.” Then, laying his pipe on the marble table, he called out anew: “Waiter, a ‘bock.’” And continued: “It makes me thirsty to keep calling so. I am not accustomed to that sort of thing. Yes, yes, I do nothing. I let things slide, and I am growing old. In dying I shall have nothing to regret. My only remembrance will be
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10603
this beer hall. No wife, no children, no cares, no sorrows, nothing. That is best.”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10616
“Come now, be frank. You have been the victim of some great sorrow; some disappointment in love, no doubt! It is easy to see that you are a man who has had some trouble. What age are you?” “I am thirty, but I look forty- five, at least.” I looked him straight in the face. His wrinkled, ill-shaven face gave one the impression that he was an old man. On the top of his head a few long hairs waved over a skin of
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10620
doubtful cleanliness. He had enormous eyelashes, a heavy mustache, and a thick beard. Suddenly I had a kind of vision, I know not why, of a basin filled with dirty water in which all that hair had been washed. I said to him: “You certainly look older than your age. You surely must have experienced some great sorrow.” He replied: “I tell you that I have not. I am old because I never go out into the air. Nothing makes a man deteriorate more than the life of a cafe.”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10624
I still could not believe him. “You must surely also have been married? One could not get as bald-headed as you are without having been in love.” He shook his head, shaking dandruff down on his coat as he did so. “No, I have always been virtuous.” And, raising his eyes toward the chandelier which heated our heads, he said: “If I am bald, it is the fault of the gas. It destroys the hair. Waiter, a ‘bock.’ Are you not thirsty?”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10629
“No, thank you. But you really interest me. Since when have you been so morbid? Your life is not normal, it is not natural. There is something beneath it all.” “Yes, and it dates from my infancy. I received a great shock
when I was very young, and that turned my life into darkness which will last to the end.” “What was it?” “You wish to know about it? Well, then, listen. You recall, of course, the castle in which I was brought up, for you used to spend five or
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10633
six months there during vacation. You remember that large gray building, in the middle of a great park, and the long avenues of oaks which opened to the four points of the compass. You remember my father and mother, both of whom were ceremonious, solemn, and severe. “I worshipped my mother; I was afraid of my father; but I respected both, accustomed always as I was to see every one bow before them. They were Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse to all the country round, and our neighbors,
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10638
“I was then thirteen years old. I was happy, pleased with everything, as one is at that age, full of the joy of life. “Well, toward the end of September, a few days before returning to college, as I was playing about in the shrubbery of the park, among the branches and leaves, as I was crossing a path, I saw my father and mother, who were walking along.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10645
“As soon as I perceived my parents, I crept furtively toward them, under the branches, in order to surprise them, as though I had been a veritable prowler. But I stopped in fear a few paces from them. My father, who was in a terrible passion, cried: “‘Your mother is a fool; moreover, it is not a question of your mother. It is you. I tell you that I need this money, and I want you to sign this.’
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10649
“My mother replied in a firm voice: “‘I will not sign it. It is Jean’s fortune. I shall guard it for him and I will not allow you to squander it with strange women, as you have your own heritage.’ “Then my father, trembling with rage, wheeled round and, seizing his wife by the throat, began to slap her with all his might full in the face with his disengaged hand. “My mother’s hat fell off, her hair became loosened and fell over her shoulders; she tried to parry the
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10653
blows, but she could not do so. And my father, like a madman, kept on striking her. My mother rolled over on the ground, covering her face with her hands. Then he turned her over on her back in order to slap her still more, pulling away her hands, which were covering her face. “As for me, my friend, it seemed as though the world was coming to an end, that the eternal laws had changed. I experienced the overwhelming dread that one has in presence of things supernatural, in presence of irreparable disasters.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10657
My childish mind was bewildered, distracted. I began to cry with all my might, without knowing why; a prey to a fearful dread, sorrow, and astonishment. My father heard me, turned round, and, on seeing me, started toward me. I believe that he wanted to kill me, and I fled like a hunted animal, running straight ahead into the thicket. “I ran perhaps for an hour, perhaps for two. I know not. Darkness set in. I sank on the grass, exhausted, and lay there dismayed, frantic with fear, and devoured by
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10660
a sorrow capable of breaking forever the heart of a poor child. I was cold, hungry, perhaps. At length day broke. I was afraid to get up, to walk, to return home, to run farther, fearing to encounter my father, whom I did not wish to see again. “I should probably have died of misery and of hunger at the foot of a tree if the park guard had not discovered me and led me home by force. “I found my parents looking as usual. My mother alone spoke to me “‘How you frightened me, you
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10664
naughty boy. I lay awake the whole night.’ “I did not answer, but began to weep. My father did not utter a single word. “Eight days later I returned to school. “Well, my friend, it was all over with me. I had witnessed the other side of things, the bad side. I have not been able to perceive the good side since that day. What has taken place in my mind, what strange phenomenon has warped my ideas, I do not know. But I no longer had a taste
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10668
for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire for anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope. And I always see my poor mother on the ground, in the park, my father beating her. My mother died some years later; my, father still lives. I have not seen him since. Waiter, a ‘bock.’”
Story in short- College chums meet each other in a chance meeting.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10569
I glanced round to find a place that was not too crowded, and went and sat down by the side of a man who seemed to me to be old, and who was smoking a two-sous clay pipe, which was as black as coal. From six to eight glasses piled up on the table in front of him indicated the number of “bocks” he had already absorbed. At a glance I recognized a “regular,” one of those frequenters of beer houses who come in the morning when the place opens, and do not leave till evening when it is about to close. He was dirty, bald on top of his head, with a fringe of iron-gray hair falling on the collar of his frock coat. His clothes, much too large for him, appeared to have been made for him at a time when he was corpulent. One could guess that he did not wear suspenders, for he could not take ten steps without having to stop to pull up his trousers. Did he wear a
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10574
vest? The mere thought of his boots and of that which they covered filled me with horror. The frayed cuffs were perfectly black at the edges, as were his nails. As soon as I had seated myself beside him, this individual said to me in a quiet tone of voice: “How goes it?” I turned sharply round and closely scanned his features, whereupon he continued: “I see you do not recognize me.” “No, I do not.” “Des Barrets.”
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert ❌❌❌❌❌❌
A man meets a college friend and surprised that he looks a lot older and that he is a drunkard. He finally finds out why his friend does nothing but drink, he saw his father beat his mother and sees later that his parents later act like nothing happened. His mother died a couple years later but his father still lives. His world collapsed then but it seems that he wants an accuse to make something better with his life. He could have married and been a good husband.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10579
I was stupefied. It was Count Jean des Barrets, my old college chum. I seized him by the hand, and was so dumbfounded that I could find nothing to say. At length I managed to stammer out: “And you, how goes it with you?” He responded placidly: “I get along as I can.” “What are you doing now?” I asked. “You see what I am doing,” he answered quit resignedly. I felt my face getting red. I insisted:
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10585
“But every day?”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10591
Des Barrets emptied his glass at a single draught and replaced it on the table, while he sucked in the foam that had been left on his mustache. He next asked: “What is there new?” I really had nothing new to tell him. I stammered:
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10594
“Nothing, old man. I am a business man.” In his monotonous tone of voice he said: “Indeed, does it amuse you?” “No, but what can I do? One must do something!” “Why should one?” “So as to have occupation.” “What’s the use of an occupation? For my part, I do nothing at all, as you see, never anything. When one has not a sou I can understand why one should work. But when one has enough to live on, what’s the use?
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10599
What is the good of working? Do you work for yourself, or for others? If you work for yourself, you do it for your own amusement, which is all right; if you work for others, you are a fool.” Then, laying his pipe on the marble table, he called out anew: “Waiter, a ‘bock.’” And continued: “It makes me thirsty to keep calling so. I am not accustomed to that sort of thing. Yes, yes, I do nothing. I let things slide, and I am growing old. In dying I shall have nothing to regret. My only remembrance will be
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10603
this beer hall. No wife, no children, no cares, no sorrows, nothing. That is best.”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10616
“Come now, be frank. You have been the victim of some great sorrow; some disappointment in love, no doubt! It is easy to see that you are a man who has had some trouble. What age are you?” “I am thirty, but I look forty- five, at least.” I looked him straight in the face. His wrinkled, ill-shaven face gave one the impression that he was an old man. On the top of his head a few long hairs waved over a skin of
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10620
doubtful cleanliness. He had enormous eyelashes, a heavy mustache, and a thick beard. Suddenly I had a kind of vision, I know not why, of a basin filled with dirty water in which all that hair had been washed. I said to him: “You certainly look older than your age. You surely must have experienced some great sorrow.” He replied: “I tell you that I have not. I am old because I never go out into the air. Nothing makes a man deteriorate more than the life of a cafe.”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10624
I still could not believe him. “You must surely also have been married? One could not get as bald-headed as you are without having been in love.” He shook his head, shaking dandruff down on his coat as he did so. “No, I have always been virtuous.” And, raising his eyes toward the chandelier which heated our heads, he said: “If I am bald, it is the fault of the gas. It destroys the hair. Waiter, a ‘bock.’ Are you not thirsty?”
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10629
“No, thank you. But you really interest me. Since when have you been so morbid? Your life is not normal, it is not natural. There is something beneath it all.” “Yes, and it dates from my infancy. I received a great shock
when I was very young, and that turned my life into darkness which will last to the end.” “What was it?” “You wish to know about it? Well, then, listen. You recall, of course, the castle in which I was brought up, for you used to spend five or
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10633
six months there during vacation. You remember that large gray building, in the middle of a great park, and the long avenues of oaks which opened to the four points of the compass. You remember my father and mother, both of whom were ceremonious, solemn, and severe. “I worshipped my mother; I was afraid of my father; but I respected both, accustomed always as I was to see every one bow before them. They were Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse to all the country round, and our neighbors,
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10638
“I was then thirteen years old. I was happy, pleased with everything, as one is at that age, full of the joy of life. “Well, toward the end of September, a few days before returning to college, as I was playing about in the shrubbery of the park, among the branches and leaves, as I was crossing a path, I saw my father and mother, who were walking along.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10645
“As soon as I perceived my parents, I crept furtively toward them, under the branches, in order to surprise them, as though I had been a veritable prowler. But I stopped in fear a few paces from them. My father, who was in a terrible passion, cried: “‘Your mother is a fool; moreover, it is not a question of your mother. It is you. I tell you that I need this money, and I want you to sign this.’
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10649
“My mother replied in a firm voice: “‘I will not sign it. It is Jean’s fortune. I shall guard it for him and I will not allow you to squander it with strange women, as you have your own heritage.’ “Then my father, trembling with rage, wheeled round and, seizing his wife by the throat, began to slap her with all his might full in the face with his disengaged hand. “My mother’s hat fell off, her hair became loosened and fell over her shoulders; she tried to parry the
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10653
blows, but she could not do so. And my father, like a madman, kept on striking her. My mother rolled over on the ground, covering her face with her hands. Then he turned her over on her back in order to slap her still more, pulling away her hands, which were covering her face. “As for me, my friend, it seemed as though the world was coming to an end, that the eternal laws had changed. I experienced the overwhelming dread that one has in presence of things supernatural, in presence of irreparable disasters.
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10657
My childish mind was bewildered, distracted. I began to cry with all my might, without knowing why; a prey to a fearful dread, sorrow, and astonishment. My father heard me, turned round, and, on seeing me, started toward me. I believe that he wanted to kill me, and I fled like a hunted animal, running straight ahead into the thicket. “I ran perhaps for an hour, perhaps for two. I know not. Darkness set in. I sank on the grass, exhausted, and lay there dismayed, frantic with fear, and devoured by
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10660
a sorrow capable of breaking forever the heart of a poor child. I was cold, hungry, perhaps. At length day broke. I was afraid to get up, to walk, to return home, to run farther, fearing to encounter my father, whom I did not wish to see again. “I should probably have died of misery and of hunger at the foot of a tree if the park guard had not discovered me and led me home by force. “I found my parents looking as usual. My mother alone spoke to me “‘How you frightened me, you
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10664
naughty boy. I lay awake the whole night.’ “I did not answer, but began to weep. My father did not utter a single word. “Eight days later I returned to school. “Well, my friend, it was all over with me. I had witnessed the other side of things, the bad side. I have not been able to perceive the good side since that day. What has taken place in my mind, what strange phenomenon has warped my ideas, I do not know. But I no longer had a taste
Highlight (Yellow) | Location 10668
for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire for anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope. And I always see my poor mother on the ground, in the park, my father beating her. My mother died some years later; my, father still lives. I have not seen him since. Waiter, a ‘bock.’”
August 28, 2024
4.25⭐
The narrator meets an old school friend in a café on the boulevard, a former schoolmate from a wealthy family who has decided at a very early age to drop out of the social structure and to just drink bocks (strong beers) all day every day. Amazed at the transformation and shocked by the sad state of his former friend, the narrator listens as the bock-drinker relates the family upheaval that changed his life forever at the age of thirteen.
FYI: Bock beer is a traditional German lager beer that ranges from a lighter, pale lager to a darker, heartier lager.
The narrator meets an old school friend in a café on the boulevard, a former schoolmate from a wealthy family who has decided at a very early age to drop out of the social structure and to just drink bocks (strong beers) all day every day. Amazed at the transformation and shocked by the sad state of his former friend, the narrator listens as the bock-drinker relates the family upheaval that changed his life forever at the age of thirteen.
FYI: Bock beer is a traditional German lager beer that ranges from a lighter, pale lager to a darker, heartier lager.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews