Andre Maurois years of life. Online reading of the book Letters to a Stranger by Andre Maurois. Letters to a stranger. Editions in Russian

Andre Maurois - Literary Portraits

LETTRES A L'INCONNUE

Héritiers André Maurois, Anne-Mary Charrier, Marseille, France, 2006

Translation. Y. Lesyuk, 2015

Russian edition AST Publishers, 2015

Letters to a stranger

You exist, and at the same time you are not. When one of my friends suggested that I write to you once a week, I mentally drew an image of you. I created you beautiful - both in face and in mind. I knew: you will not be slow to emerge alive from my dreams and will begin to read my messages, and answer them, and tell me everything that the author wants to hear.

From the very first day I gave you a certain appearance - the appearance of an extremely beautiful and young woman whom I saw in the theater. No, not on stage - in the hall. None of those who were next to me knew her. Since then, you have found eyes and lips, a voice and to become, but, as befits, you still remain a Stranger.

Two or three of my letters appeared in print, and, as expected, I began to receive replies from you. Here “you” is a collective person. There are many different strangers of you: one is naive, the other is absurd, and the third is a naughty and a mocker. I was impatient to start a correspondence with you, but I resisted: you had to remain all of you, it was impossible for you to become one.

You reproach me for my restraint, for my constant sentimental moralism. But what can you do? And the most patient of people will remain faithful to a stranger only on the condition that one day she will open up to him. Merimee quickly learned that his stranger's name was Jenny Daquin, and soon he was allowed to kiss her lovely feet. Yes, our idol must have legs and everything else, because we get tired of contemplating the incorporeal goddess.

I promised that I would continue this game as long as I found pleasure in it. More than a year passed, I put an end to our correspondence, and there were no objections. An imaginary break is not at all difficult. I will keep a wonderful, unclouded memory of you. Farewell.

A. M.

About one meeting

That evening I was not alone at the Comédie Française. “They only gave Moliere,” but with great success. The Lady of Iran laughed heartily; Robert Kemp seemed to be in bliss; Paul Leautaud attracted everyone's attention.

The lady sitting next to us whispered to her husband: “I’ll tell Aunt Clemence on the phone that I saw Leoto, she’ll be happy.”

You sat in front, wrapped in arctic fox furs, and, as in the time of Musset, your chosen “black braid on a marvelous flexible neck” swayed in front of me. During intermission, you leaned over to your friend and asked animatedly: “How to become loved?” I, in turn, wanted to lean over to you and answer with the words of one of Moliere’s contemporaries: “To please others, you need to talk to them about what pleases them and what interests them, avoid arguing about unimportant subjects, rarely ask questions and in no way if you don’t let them suspect that you can be smarter than them.”

Here are the tips of someone who knew people! Yes, if we want to be loved, we need to talk to others not about what interests us, but about what interests them. What keeps them busy? They are themselves. We will never bore a woman if we talk to her about her character and beauty, if we ask her about her childhood, her tastes, and what makes her sad. You will also never bore a man if you ask him to talk about himself. How many women have gained fame as skilled listeners! However, there is no need to listen, it is enough just to pretend that you are listening.

“Avoid arguing about unimportant subjects.” Arguments presented in a harsh tone infuriate the interlocutor. Especially when the truth is on your side. “Every sensible remark hurts,” said Stendhal. Your interlocutor may have to admit the irrefutability of your arguments, but he will not forgive you for this forever. In love, a man strives not for war, but for peace. Blessed are the gentle and meek women, they will be loved more. Nothing pisses off a man more than a woman's aggressiveness. The Amazons are deified, but not adored.

Another, quite worthy way to be liked is to speak flatteringly about people. If you tell them this, it will give them pleasure and they will feel good towards you in return.

“I don’t like Madame de...” someone said.

- What a pity! But she finds you simply charming and tells everyone she meets about it.

– Really?.. It turns out that I was mistaken about her.

The opposite is also true. One caustic phrase, moreover, retold unkindly, gives rise to worst enemies. “If we all knew everything that is said about all of us, no one would talk to anyone.” The trouble is that sooner or later everyone will find out what everyone is saying about everyone.

Let us return to La Rochefoucauld: “Under no circumstances should you let them suspect that you can be more intelligent than they are.” Isn't it possible to both love and admire someone at the same time? Of course, it is possible, but only if he does not express his superiority with arrogance and it is balanced by small weaknesses that allow others, in turn, to patronize him. The smartest man I knew, Paul Valery, showed his intelligence very easily. He put deep thoughts into a humorous form; He was characterized by both childishness and cute pranks, which made him unusually charming. Another the smartest person he is both serious and important, but still amuses his friends with his unconscious arrogance, absent-mindedness or quirks. They forgive him for being talented because he can be funny; and you will be forgiven for being beautiful because you keep it simple. A woman will never tire of even a great man if she remembers that he is also a man.

How to become loved? Giving those you want to captivate good reasons to be pleased with themselves. Love begins with the joyful feeling of one's own strength combined with the happiness of another person. To please means both to give and to receive. This is what, stranger of my soul (as the Spaniards say), I would like to answer you. I’ll add one more - the last - piece of advice that Merimee gave to her stranger: “Never say anything bad about yourself. Your friends will do it." Farewell.

About the limits of tenderness

Paul Valéry spoke excellently about many things, and in particular about love; he liked to talk about passions in mathematical terms: he quite reasonably believed that the contrast between the precision of expression and the elusiveness of feelings gave rise to a disturbing incongruity. I especially liked one of his formulas, which I dubbed Valerie’s theorem: “The amount of tenderness emitted and absorbed every day has a limit.”

In other words, no person is capable of living all day, much less weeks or years, in an atmosphere of tender passion. Everything tires you out, even being loved. It is useful to be reminded of this truth, because many young people, as well as old people, apparently are not aware of it. A woman revels in the first delights of love; she is overwhelmed with joy when she is told from morning to evening how beautiful she is, how witty, what a blessing it is to have her, how wonderful her speeches are; she echoes these praises and assures her partner that he is the best and smartest man in the world, an incomparable lover, a wonderful interlocutor. It’s much nicer for both. But what next? The possibilities of the language are not limitless. “At first it’s easy for lovers to talk to each other...” noted the Englishman Stevenson. “I am me, you are you, and everyone else is of no interest.”

You can repeat in a hundred different ways: “I am me, you are you.” But not a hundred thousand! And there is an endless string of days ahead.

– What is the name of such a marriage when a man is content with one woman? – an examiner asked an American student.

“Monotonous,” she answered.

So that monogamy does not turn into monotony, you need to vigilantly ensure that tenderness and forms of its expression alternate with something else. A loving couple should be refreshed by “winds from the sea”: communication with other people, common work, shows. Praise touches, born as if by chance, involuntarily - from mutual understanding, shared pleasure; becoming an indispensable ritual, it becomes boring.

Octave Mirbeau has a short story written in the form of a dialogue between two lovers who meet every evening in the park by moonlight. A sensitive lover whispers in a voice even more tender than moonlit night: “Look... That bench, oh dear bench!” The beloved sighs in despair: “That bench again!” Let us beware of pews that have become places of worship. Tender words, appearing and pouring out at the very moment of manifestation of feelings, are charming. Tenderness in rigid expressions is annoying.

A woman who is aggressive and dissatisfied with everyone quickly bores a man; but even an undemanding woman who innocently admires everything will not retain her power over him for long. Contradiction? Of course. Man is made of contradictions. The tide comes and goes. “He is condemned to constantly move from spasms of anxiety to the stupor of boredom,” says Voltaire. Many representatives of the human race are created in such a way that they easily get used to being loved and do not value too much a feeling in which they are too confident.

One woman doubted a man’s feelings and focused all her thoughts on him. Suddenly she finds out that he reciprocates her feelings. She is happy, but if he repeats day and night that she is perfection, she will probably get tired of it. Another man, not so accommodating, arouses her curiosity. I knew a young girl who sang with pleasure in front of guests; She was very pretty, and therefore everyone praised her to the skies. Only one young man remained silent.

- Well, what about you? – she finally couldn’t stand it. – Don’t you like the way I sing?

- Oh, on the contrary! - he answered. “If you also had a voice, it would be just wonderful.”

It was him that she married. Farewell.

About immutability human feelings

I'm back in the theater; this time, alas, you are not there. I'm upset for myself and for you. I want to shout: “Bravo, Roussin, what a glorious comedy!” One scene in particular amused the audience. A certain young man gave a child to his father's secretary. He has no position, no money, she is smart and earns her own living. He proposes to her and is refused. And then the young father’s mother complains bitterly: “My poor boy, she seduced him and abandoned him... She compromised him and refuses to cover up his sin!”

A classic situation inverted. But these days, economic relations between both sexes are often, so to speak, turned inside out. Women earn much more than in the past. They are less dependent on the desires and whims of men. In the time of Balzac, it was difficult to come up with something better than marriage; in the time of Roussin, that’s still a question. In "Immaculate" by Philippa Eria, a young girl turns to science to help her give birth to a child without the help of a man.

In reality, science is still powerless to fulfill this unusual desire, although biologists have already begun very strange and dangerous experiments. In his book Brave New World, Aldous Huxley tried to depict exactly how offspring would be born in a hundred years. In this best of all worlds, natural conception is excluded. Surgeons remove the woman's ovaries, they are kept in the proper environment and still produce eggs that are fertilized by insemination. One ovary can give birth to sixteen thousand brothers and sisters - in groups of ninety-six twins.

Love? Attachment? Romance of a relationship? The rulers of the best of worlds have deep contempt for this dilapidated trash. They feel sorry for the poor people from the twentieth century who had fathers, mothers, husbands, lovers. In their opinion, it is not surprising that the people of the past were mad, evil and insignificant. Family, passions, rivalry led to clashes and complexes. The unfortunate ancestors, willy-nilly, experienced everything deeply, and the constant acuity of feelings prevented them from maintaining peace of mind. “Facelessness, Similarity, Equanimity” - this is the triune motto of a world where there is no love.

Fortunately, this is just a fantasy, and humanity does not follow this path. Humanity generally changes much less than people think. It is like a sea: on the surface it seethes and worries, but once it plunges into the abyss of human souls, the immutability of the most important human feelings is evident.

What are our youth singing? The song of Prevert and Cosmas: “When you think, when you believe that your youth will last forever, oh girl, you are cruelly mistaken!..” Where did this theme come from? From a four-century-old poem by Ronsard:

Taste the delights of youth!

Don't expect joy in old age:

Beauty will fade like a flower. Ronsard. "To Cassandra."

Almost all the motifs of the Pleiades poets or, say, Musset are still heard today; on their basis it would be possible to compose many songs for every taste for Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Play this game: it is simple, entertaining and will benefit you. Stranger de mi alma My soul (Spanish)., you should decide on something. The haughty secretary from Roussin's play ends up marrying her “victim,” and you are still a copy of your sisters from the 16th century. Farewell.

About the necessary measure of coquetry

“Slander, sir! You just don’t understand what you decided to neglect,” says one of the characters “ Barber of Seville" I am often tempted to say to a woman who is too trusting and spontaneous in love: “Coquetry, madam! You just don’t understand what you’re looking down on.” Coquetry was and is amazingly powerful and dangerous weapon. This set of clever tricks, so carefully studied by Marivaux, consists of first attracting, then repelling, pretending to give something, and then taking it away. The results of this game are amazing. And even knowing in advance about all these traps, you will still fall into it.

If you think about it, this is quite natural. Without light coquetry, which gives rise to the first timid hope, love does not awaken in most people. “To love is to experience excitement at the thought of some possibility, which then develops into a need, a persistent desire, an obsession.” While it seems completely impossible for us to please such and such a man (or such and such a woman), we do not even think about him (or about her). You are not tormented because you are not the Queen of England. Every man finds that Greta Garbo and Michelle Morgan are extremely beautiful and admires them, but it never occurs to him to be killed by love for them. For their countless fans, they are just images living on the screen. And they don’t promise any opportunities.

But as soon as we take into account someone’s gaze, smile, phrase, gesture, our imagination, against our will, already draws to us the possibilities hidden behind them. Has this woman given us a reason—however small—to hope? From this moment we are already in the grip of doubts. And we ask ourselves: “Is she really interested in me? How will she love me? Incredible. And yet her behavior...” In short, as Stendhal used to say, we “crystallize” at the thought of her, in other words, in our dreams we color her with all the colors, just as the salt crystals in the mines of Salzburg make all the objects that are placed there shimmer.

Little by little the desire turns into an obsession, into an obsession. For a flirt who wants to prolong this obsession and “drive a man crazy,” it is enough to resort to a tactic as old as the human race: run away, making it clear before that that she has nothing against persecution, refuse, leaving, however, a glimmer of hope: “Perhaps , tomorrow I will be yours.” And then the unlucky men will follow her to the ends of the earth.

These tricks are worthy of condemnation if a coquette uses them in order to unbalance numerous admirers. Such behavior will certainly make her nervous and deceiving, unless she is damn smart and manages, without yielding to anyone, without hurting the pride of men. But even a notorious coquette risks eventually exhausting the patience of her admirers. She, like Molière’s Célimène, chases several hares at once and ultimately catches none.

Since you can't be on the happy side,

How I found everything in you, find everything in me, -

Goodbye forever! Like a heavy burden,

With delight I will finally throw off your chains. Moliere. Collection Op. in four volumes. M.: Art, 1965. T. 2. P. 394.

On the contrary, coquetry is completely innocent and even necessary if its goal is to maintain the affection of the man they love. In this case, the woman deep down does not feel any desire to flirt. “The greatest miracle of love is that it cures coquetry.” It is pleasant for a woman truly in love to give herself without looking back or pretense, often with sublime generosity. However, it happens that a woman is forced to slightly torture the one she loves, since he is one of those men who cannot live without suffering and who are held back by doubt.

Then even a chaste, but in love woman has no shame in pretending to be a coquette, so as not to lose the affection of a man, just as a nurse sometimes has to be ruthless in the interests of the patient. The injection is painful, but healing. Jealousy is painful, but it strengthens the feeling. If you, my stranger, ever allow me to get to know you, do not be a coquette. Otherwise, I will certainly get caught in the net, like everyone else. Farewell.

About the lady who knows everything

- How! Are you my neighbor, doctor?

- Yes, one of your two neighbors, madam.

- I'm delighted, doctor; I haven’t been able to chat calmly with you for a long time.

– I’m very happy too.

- I need to get a lot of advice from you, doctor... Will this not be a burden to you?

- To tell the truth, madam...

– First of all, my insomnia... Do you remember what kind of insomnia I have? But what do I see, doctor? Are you starting to make soup?

- Why not?

- You're crazy! There is nothing more harmful to health than a stream of liquid at the beginning of a meal...

- For mercy, madam...

“Put this strong broth aside, doctor, I beg you, and let’s study the menu together... Salmon is good... there’s a lot of protein in fish.” Poultry too... Well, well, we will get the vitamin A we need with oil; vitamin C - with fruits... But there is no vitamin B at all... What a shame! Don't you think so, doctor?

- No, there is no trial.

– Tell me, doctor, how many calories does a woman who, like me, leads an active lifestyle, need daily?

“I can’t say for sure, madam... It doesn’t matter at all.”

- How does this not matter? You will probably also say that coal has no meaning for a steam locomotive, and gasoline for a car!.. I lead the same lifestyle as men, and I need three thousand calories, otherwise I will wither away.

-Are you counting them, madam?

– Do I count them!.. You must be joking, doctor?.. I always have a table with me... ( Opens her purse.) Look, doctor... Ham - one thousand seven hundred and fifty calories per kilogram... Chicken - one thousand five hundred... Milk - seven hundred...

- Perfect. But how do you know how much that chicken wing weighs?

– At home, I demand that all portions be weighed. Here, on a visit, I estimate by eye... ( She lets out a scream.) Ah, doctor!

- What's the matter with you, madam?

- I beg you, stop!.. This is as unbearable as the grinding of a knife, like a false note, like...

- What did I do, madam?

– Doctor, you mix proteins with carbohydrates... Oh, doctor, stop!..

- Eh! Fool take me, I eat what they serve me...

- You! A famous doctor!.. But you know very well, doctor, that the usual meal of an ordinary Frenchman - steak and potatoes - is the most dangerous poison that can be prepared!

– And yet the ordinary Frenchman is living happily...

- Doctor, you are a real heretic... I don’t talk to you anymore... (Barely audible.) And who is my other neighbor? I heard his last name, but he is unfamiliar to me.

“This is an important official from the Ministry of Finance, madam.”

- Is it true? How interesting! ( He turns energetically to the right.) How is our budget, sir? Have you already made ends meet?

- Oh, madam, have mercy... I talked about the budget for eight hours today... And I hoped that at least at lunch I would get a break.

- A break!.. We will give it to you when you settle our affairs... And it’s so simple.

- So simple, madam?

– Simple as shelling pears... Our budget is four trillion?

- Yes, approximately like that...

- Excellent... Cut all expenses by twenty percent...

(The doctor and the financier, like accomplices, exchange glances full of despair behind the know-it-all lady’s back.)

You, my dear, have enough common sense not to know anything. That's why you guess everything. Farewell.

About one young girl

“To conquer a man...” she says. “But a woman is not given the power to conquer.” She is a passive creature. She is waiting for tender confessions... Or offensive words. It’s not for her to take the initiative.

“You are describing appearance, not reality,” I object. – Bernard Shaw wrote a long time ago that if a woman waits for tender confessions, then it’s just like a spider waits for a fly.

“A spider weaves a web,” she replies, “what do you think a poor girl should do?” You either like her or not. If she doesn’t like her, her pitiful efforts are not capable of transforming a man’s feelings. I think she is more likely to achieve the opposite: nothing irritates a young man more than the claims of a girl to whom he is indifferent. A woman who imposes herself and takes the first step will achieve the contempt of a man, but not his love.

“This would be true,” I say, “if the woman acted ineptly and it was obvious that the initiative came from her; but the art lies precisely in taking the first steps unnoticed. “She runs under the shade of weeping willows, but wants to be seen...” Retreating, luring the enemy - this is an old, proven military trick, it has served both girls and soldiers a lot.

“This is indeed a proven trick,” she agrees, “but if the enemy does not have the slightest desire to pursue me, my flight will lead to nothing, I will remain alone under the shadow of the weeping willows.”

“This is where you women should try to awaken in a man the desire to pursue you.” A whole tactic has been developed for this, and you are more familiar with it than I am. You need to allow him something, pretend that he is very interested in you, then suddenly “break everything” and decisively forbid him what just yesterday he considered firmly won. A contrast shower is a harsh shock, but under it both love and desire grow by leaps and bounds.

“It’s easy for you to say,” she objects, “but such tactics presuppose, firstly, composure on the part of the one who brings the plan to fruition (how can you put a person whose voice makes you tremble to the test?); secondly, it is necessary that the male subject has already begun to pay attention to us. Otherwise, roll the ball of thread as much as you want, the kitten refuses to play.

“I will never believe,” I say, “that a young and pretty girl is not able to force a man to pay attention to her; For starters, it’s enough to start talking about him. Most representatives of the stronger sex boast of their specialty. Listen patiently to their rants about the profession and themselves - this is quite enough for them to consider you smart and feel a desire to see you again.

- So, you have to be able to get bored?

“But of course,” I confirm. - That goes without saying. Whether it concerns men or women, love or politics, the one who can succeed in this world is the one who can also be bored.

“Well, then I prefer not to succeed,” my interlocutor notes.

“Me too,” I agree, “and, God knows, you and I will succeed in this.”

This is the conversation, querida Dear (Spanish)., happened to me yesterday with a young girl. There's nothing you can do about it! You weren’t around, but you still need to live. Farewell.

About the male half of the human race

The other day I read an article in an American newspaper that would amuse you. In it, one American woman addresses her sisters, women. “Are you complaining,” she writes, “that you cannot find a husband for yourself? Do you not have that irresistible beauty that Hollywood, alas, has lured our men into? Do you lead a secluded life and rarely go out in public? In a word, you have almost no male acquaintances, and those among whom your chosen one could be do not pay attention to you?

Let me give you some advice that I myself found very useful. I assume that you, like many of us, live in a small cottage; There is a lawn around, and nearby there are other similar houses. There are no doubt several bachelors living in your neighborhood.

- Well, of course! - you tell me. - But they don’t even care about me.

- Well, well! This is where my first piece of advice comes in handy. Place a ladder against the wall of your house; climb onto the roof and begin installing the television antenna. That's enough. Immediately all the men living around will rush towards you, like hornets attracted by a pot of honey. Why? Because they adore technology, love to make things, because they all consider themselves skillful and skilled... and most importantly, because it gives them great pleasure to show a woman their superiority.

- No, no! - they will tell you. – You don’t know how to take on this. Let me do it...

You, of course, agree and look with delight at how they work. Here you have new friends, who are also grateful to you for giving them a chance to shine.

For mowing the lawn,” continues the American, “I have a roller with an electric motor; I can easily handle it while moving along the lawn. As long as everything is in order, no man appears on the horizon. As soon as I want my neighbors to be interested in me, there is nothing simpler - I disable the engine and pretend to be anxiously looking for the cause of the breakdown. Immediately one man appears to my right, armed with pliers, and to my left another, with a box of tools in his hands. Here are our mechanics in a trap.

Same game on the freeway. Stop, lift the hood of the car and lean over the candles with a confused look. Other hornets, eager for praise, will in turn stop and offer you their invaluable services. Keep in mind, however, that changing a wheel or inflating a tire is not an attractive activity for them. This work, although not tricky, is labor-intensive and does not promise honor. And for a man, the ruler of the world, the most important thing is to show his omnipotence in front of humble women. How many eligible suitors roll along the roads alone and, without knowing it, want only one thing - to find a life partner like you - simple-minded, ignorant and ready to admire them! The road to a man’s heart is marked by cars like milestones.”

I believe that these tips are indeed useful when it comes to Americans. Will they be just as effective when applied to the French? Perhaps not; but we have our own vulnerabilities. We like to delight with speeches and sonorous phrases. Ask professional advice from a financier politician, a scientist is one of the ways to conquer a man, and it is also designed for the ineradicable vanity of the male half of the human race. Skiing lessons and swimming lessons are excellent opportunities for male athletes.

Goethe once noted that there is nothing more attractive than a young man’s activities with a girl: she likes to learn and he likes to teach. This is still true today. How many romances begin over translations from Latin or over solving a physics problem, when the fluffy hair of a young student touches the cheek of her young mentor! Ask for a complex explanation to be explained to you philosophical problem, listen to the explanation with a thoughtful look, turning your head in a way that suits you especially, then say heartfeltly that you understand everything - who can resist that! In France, the way to a man's heart is through his mind. Will I find a way to your heart? Farewell.

About love and marriage in France

To better understand the views of Frenchmen and Frenchwomen on love and marriage, we should first recall the history of tender feelings in our country. It is easy to detect two currents in it.

First, powerful current- sublime love. It was in France in the Middle Ages that courtly love was born. Worship of a woman, the desire to please her, composing songs and poems (troubadours) or performing feats (knights) are integral features of the elite of French society of that time. No literature has ever given such importance to love and passion.

However, along with this trend, there was a second, very widespread one. Rabelais describes him. Carnal, sensual love appears here in close-up. In this case, marriage is more likely not a question of feelings, but only a convenient form life together, allowing you to raise children and take care of mutual interests. In Moliere, for example, the husband is a slightly funny character, whom his wife, if possible, deceives and who himself is looking for love affairs on the side.

In the 19th century, the dominance of the wealthy bourgeoisie, which attached great importance to money and its transfer by inheritance, led to the fact that marriage turned into a transaction, as can be seen from the books of Balzac. In such a marriage, love could be born later - in the course of life together - from the mutual responsibilities of the spouses, due to the similarity of temperaments, but this was not considered necessary. Met and successful marriages that arose on the basis of sober calculation. Parents and notaries agreed on the dowry and the terms of the marriage contract before the young people met each other.

Today we have changed all that. Wealth no longer plays a determining role in choosing a life partner, since an educated wife who serves, or a husband with a good profession, are valued incomparably more than a dowry, whose value can fall sharply. Elevated feelings and craving for romantic love - a legacy of past centuries - have also lost their former power. Why? Firstly, because a woman, having achieved equality, ceased to be an inaccessible, mysterious deity for a man, but became a comrade; secondly, because young girls now know a lot about the physical side of love and have a more true and sensible view of love and marriage.

It cannot be said that boys and girls do not strive for love at all; but they are looking for her in strong marriage. They are wary of marriage passionate love, because they know that passion is short-lived. In Moliere's time, marriage marked the end of love. Today he is just the beginning. The successful union of two today is closer than ever, for it is at the same time a union of flesh, soul and intellect. In Balzac's time, a husband in love with his wife was considered funny. Today there is more depravity on the pages of novels than in life. The current world is not simple, life requires full dedication from both men and women, and therefore more and more marriage, sealed by friendship, mutual attraction and spiritual affection, seems to French women to be the best solution to the problem of love. Farewell.

On the relativity of misfortunes

A woman to whom I am very attached tore her velvet dress yesterday. The painful drama lasted the whole evening. First of all, she could not understand how this wide transverse hole had arisen. She admitted that the skirt was too tight when walking... And yet, how cruel is fate! After all, it was her most charming outfit, the last of those that she decided to order from the famous tailor. The trouble was irreparable.

- Why not mend it?

- Oh, these men! They don't understand anything. After all, the seam will immediately catch your eye.

– Buy some black velvet and replace the entire width of the strip.

- Well, what are you saying! Two pieces of velvet of the same color always differ at least a little in shade. Black velvet that has been worn takes on a greenish sheen. It will be terrible. All my friends will immediately notice everything, and there will be no end to the gossip.

– Michelangelo knew how to take advantage of the veins and cracks in the block of marble that he received for sculpting. He turned these flaws in the material into an additional source of beauty. Let this hole inspire you too. Be creative and use a piece of completely different fabric here. They will think that you did this on purpose, and this will cause admiration.

- What naivety! A detail that contradicts the whole will not offend the eye only if some decoration of the same tone and style reminds of it in another place - on the lapels of the jacket, on the collar or on the belt. But this lonely strip... Absurdity! And how can I wear a darned dress?

In a word, I had to agree that the trouble was irreparable. And then the comforter gave way to the moralist.

- So be it! – I exclaimed. - Indeed, a misfortune happened. But at least agree that this is not the worst of the troubles. Is your dress torn? Please accept the assurances of my deepest sympathy, but think about the possibility that your stomach may have been pierced or your face mangled during car accident; think about the fact that you could catch pneumonia or be poisoned, but health is more important to you than clothes; think about the fact that you could lose not a velvet dress, but several friends at once; Finally, think about the fact that we live in a formidable time, that a war could break out and then you could be detained, thrown into prison, deported, killed, torn into pieces, incinerated. Remember that in nineteen forty you lost not just some rags, but everything you had, and you met this misfortune with courage, which I still admire...

– What are you getting at?

“The whole point is that human life is difficult, velvet is torn, and people die, which is very sad, but we must understand that there are different kinds of misfortunes.” “I will willingly take into my own hands the protection of their needs,” said Montaigne, “but I do not want these needs to sit in my liver or stand across my throat.” He meant: “I, the mayor of the city of Bordeaux, will willingly undertake to correct the damage caused to your treasury. But I don’t want to ruin my health by worrying about it.” These words are quite applicable to your case. I will willingly pay for a new dress, but I refuse to consider the loss as a national or universal catastrophe.

Do not turn upside down, oh my unknown friend, the pyramid of sorrows and do not put on the same level a burnt pie, leaky stockings, persecution of innocent people and a civilization that is under threat. Farewell.

About children's impressionability

Adults too often live next to the world of children without trying to understand it. Meanwhile, the child closely observes the world of his parents; he tries to comprehend and appreciate it; phrases carelessly uttered in the presence of a baby are picked up by him, interpreted in his own way and create a certain picture of the world that will remain in his imagination for a long time. One woman says in front of her eight-year-old son: “I’m more of a wife than a mother.” By this, without wanting it, she, perhaps, inflicts a wound on him that will bleed almost his entire life.

Exaggeration? Don't think. The pessimistic view of the world that a child developed in childhood may change for the better in the future. But this process will be painful and slow. On the contrary, if parents managed, at a time when the child’s consciousness was just awakening, to instill in him a belief in the gentleness and responsiveness of people, they thereby helped their sons or daughters grow up happy. Various events may then disappoint those who had a happy childhood, sooner or later they will be faced with the tragic side of existence and the cruel side of human nature. But contrary to expectation, the one whose childhood was serene and passed in an atmosphere of love and trust in others will be better able to endure all kinds of adversity.

We say phrases in front of children that we don’t attach importance to, but to them they seem full of hidden meaning. One teacher once told me this story. She asked her little student: “Part the curtains, let the light appear in our room.” She froze in indecision.

- I'm afraid…

-Are you afraid? Why?

– But you see... I read in the Holy Scriptures that as soon as Rachel gave birth to Benjamin, she immediately died.

One boy constantly heard the mantel clock in their house called “Marie Antoinette,” and the furniture in the living room “Louis the Sixteenth,” and decided that this clock was called Marie Antoinette, just as his own name was Francois. One can imagine what bizarre images will appear in his imagination when, in the very first lessons, French history the names that meant household items for him will be mixed with bloody and sad events.

How many unspoken fears, how many unimaginable concepts swarm in children's heads! I remember that when I was five or six years old, a theater troupe came to our town on tour and there were posters posted everywhere with the name of the play “Surprises of Divorce.” I didn’t know then what the word “divorce” meant, but a vague premonition told me that it was one of those forbidden, attractive and dangerous words that lift the veil over the secrets of adults. And on the very day when this troupe arrived, the city barber, in a fit of jealousy, shot his wife several times with a revolver. This incident was told in front of me. How then did the connection arise in my childhood consciousness between these two facts, so far from each other? I don't remember exactly. But for a very long time I thought that divorce was such a crime when a husband kills his guilty wife, and that it takes place right in front of the audience on the stage of the theater in Pont de l'Eure.

Of course, even the most sensitive parents are unable to prevent the emergence of supernatural ideas and naive guesses in the heads of their children. It is known that life experience It’s not so easy to pass on, everyone learns life’s lessons on their own, but at least beware of giving your child dangerous food for the imagination. We will save our children from difficult experiences if we always remember that they have heightened curiosity and are much more impressionable than us. This is a lesson for mothers. Farewell.

About the rules of the game

I don’t know if you sometimes listen to the Saturday Talk program on the radio. It features Armand Salakru, Roland Manuel, André Chamson, Claude Mauriac and yours truly. We talk about everything: about the theater, about new books, paintings by artists, concerts and about ourselves. In short, this is a real conversation, not rehearsed in advance, the kind that five friends could have over a cup of coffee. I myself get real pleasure from it and every time I happily meet my interlocutors in front of the microphone. Alain used to say that friendship often arises due to circumstances: in the lyceum, in the regiment; these indispensable meetings also made us friends.

The other day Claude Mauriac put forward a thesis that, in my opinion, is correct. "Courtly love, described in chivalric romances“, he said, “this is a kind of game, the rules of which have not changed at all since the times of medieval treatises on love. They are the same in the works of the 17th century - in “Astrea”, and in “The Princess of Cleves”, and in the works of the romantics, although they are expressed there with greater pathos; they also determine the actions and speeches of Swann in Marcel Proust. This tradition requires that lovers be jealous not only of each other’s body, but also of each other’s thoughts; so that the slightest cloud on the beloved’s forehead would awaken alarm; so that every phrase of a beloved being is carefully thought out, and every action is interpreted; so that at the mere thought of betrayal a person turns pale. Moliere made fun of such an expression of feelings; Proust pitied the sufferers; however, for several centuries both writers and the reading public did not question the rules themselves. Nowadays, a new influence has appeared: young authors no longer accept the old rules of the game; it doesn't mean they've lost interest in the topic, it's just that they've changed the rulebook. What kind of jealousy can we talk about when a woman’s body is available for everyone to see on the beaches..."

Here I interrupted Mauriac to quote one of Victor Hugo’s letters to his bride, which really could not have been written in our days. In this letter, he severely reproaches her for the fact that, afraid of getting her dress dirty on the street, she slightly lifted it and involuntarily exposed her ankle; This made Hugo so furious that he was capable of killing a random passerby who glanced at her snow-white stocking, or committing suicide. The rules of the game for young writers seem to be such that they completely exclude any jealousy and allow cynical talk about the amorous adventures of the one they love. All this is in no way compatible with the requirements of courtly love. For this unique feeling, possible only “between two subscribers,” as telephone operators say, is the destiny of only two.

In fact, in the second half modern novel lovers tend to discover love. They seem to reluctantly acknowledge the charm of fidelity, the sweetness of affection and even the torment of jealousy. But more restrained than the heroes of the romantics and even Proust, they talk about their feelings with feigned indifference and a certain amount of irony, at least that’s how it looks in words. They treat Cupid with humor. This bizarre combination is not without its charm.

Is this new? I'm not too sure about this. The rules of the game, from Madame de Lafayette to Louise Vilmorin, have never been so strict. The Anglo-Saxons long ago abandoned the open expression of their most ardent feelings.

Along with the tradition of courtly love, one can also find another one, coming from the Renaissance. Love stories in the works of Benvenuto Cellini and even Ronsard do not look very romantic. Other heroes of Stendhal or (in our days) Monterlant follow the rules love game the Renaissance, not medieval treatises on love. These rules have changed frequently and will continue to change in the future. I expect from the present young writer the new "Adolf" and the new "Svan". And I predict great success for him.

Because even if the rules of the game change, the bet remains the same. This bet is you, my precious one. Farewell.

Ability to use funny traits

Have you noticed, stranger of my soul, that our shortcomings can be liked no less than our virtues? And sometimes even more? After all, virtues, by elevating you, humiliate others, while flaws, allowing others to laugh at you without malice, raise them in their own eyes. A woman is forgiven for being talkative, but she is not forgiven for being right. Byron left his wife, whom he called the “princess of parallelograms,” because she was too insightful and intelligent. The Greeks did not like Aristides precisely because everyone called him Just.

In his work “Facts Seen,” Victor Hugo talks about a certain M. de Salvandi, whose political career was brilliant. He became a minister, academician, envoy, and was awarded the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor. You will say: all this is not God knows what; but he also enjoyed success with women, and that’s already worth a lot. So, when this Salvandi first appeared in the world, where Madame Gaille introduced him, the famous Sophie Gay exclaimed: “But, my dear, there is so much funny in your dear young man! We need to look into his manners." "God forbid! - Mrs. Guile cried. – Don’t deprive him of his originality! What will he have left then? After all, it is this that will lead him to success...” The future confirmed that Mrs. Guile was right.

Henri de Jouvenel once told me that in his youth, when he was a journalist, he was amazed by the first steps in parliament of a deputy from Calvados, a certain Henri Cheron. This Sharon had a big belly, a beard, and wore an old-fashioned frock coat; climbing onto the table, he loudly sang “Marseillaise” and made pompous speeches. Clemenceau appointed him assistant to the Minister of War, Sharon immediately began to tour the barracks and taste the soldiers' food. The journalists made fun of him; Jouvenel thought it would be interesting to write an article about him and decided to see Sharon. He met him with a defiant look.

- I know, young man!- he exclaimed. – You came to make sure that I’m funny... Well, how? Are you sure?.. Yes, I’m funny... But I’m funny on purpose, because - remember, young man - in this envious country, appearing funny is the only safe way to become famous.

These words would have delighted Stendhal. But you don’t have to seem funny; you’ve probably noticed yourself that some quirks, an original way of dressing, bring a man or woman more fame than talent. Thousands of people who had never read Andre Gide in their lives were familiar with his Mexican felt hats and short raincoat. Winston Churchill is a great orator, but he knew people well and very skillfully played up his outlandish hat, enormously thick cigars, bow ties and fingers spread in the letter “V”. I knew a certain French ambassador in London who could not speak a word of English, but wore a polka dot tie, tied with a lush bow, which unusually touched the British. And he retained his post for a long time.

Watch people eating in a restaurant. Who will be best served, who will be diligently courted by the head waiter? A positive person, happy with everything? Not at all. A client with quirks. Being demanding means getting people interested. Moral: behave naturally and, if this is your nature, a little picturesquely. You will be grateful for this. Farewell.

Do you make scenes for your husband and friends, madam? Although you have the appearance of Minerva, I would be extremely surprised if you do not resort to them. The stage is a woman’s favorite weapon. It allows them to achieve at once, through a short emotional outburst full of indignation, what they would have asked for in vain for months and years in a calm state. However, they must adapt to the man they are dealing with.

There are such easily excitable men who get pleasure from quarrels and can outdo even a woman with their behavior. The same passion comes through in their responses. Such quarrels are not complete without mutual rudeness. After the scandal, the intensity weakens, both people feel lighter and the reconciliation is quite tender. I know quite a few women who, when making scenes, are not afraid of beatings. They even secretly crave them, but will never admit it. “Well, what if I like to be beaten?” - this is the key to this incomprehensible riddle. For women who value strength in a man first of all - spiritual and physical - the slap that was given to them only fuels the feeling.

- What an abomination!- you exclaim. “A man who raised his hand to me would cease to exist for me.”

You sincerely think so, but to be completely sure you would need to test yourself. If your disgust is confirmed, it means that pride in you is stronger than sensuality.

Normal man can't stand scenes. They put him in a humiliating position, because in this case he, as a rule, loses the initiative. And can a balanced spouse successfully resist an angry Pythia, who rains down a stream of abuse on him from her tripod? Many men, as soon as a storm breaks out, prefer to leave or, having unfolded the newspaper, stop paying attention to what is happening.

It should be remembered that a mediocre scene quickly becomes boring.

The word scene itself explains a lot to us. It was borrowed from the actors. In order to have an effect, it must be masterfully played. Having started with trifles, only because the accumulated irritation required an outlet, the scene should gradually gain strength, feeding on all the painful memories, replenishing with long-standing grievances, filling everything around with sobs. Then - at the right moment - a turning point should occur: the lamentations began to subside, they were replaced by thoughtfulness and quiet sadness, the first smile had already appeared, and the crown of everything was an explosion of voluptuousness.

“But in order to play a scene like that, a woman must act according to a pre-thought-out plan and control herself all the time...

You are right, madam. There's nothing you can do - theater! The talented actress is constantly aware of what she says and does. The best scenes are those that are intentional and subtly played out. Not only women master this art. Outstanding commanders - Napoleon, Lyautey - rarely fell into anger, only when they considered it necessary. But then their rage crushed all barriers! Lyautey, in a fit of anger, threw his marshal's cap to the ground and trampled on it. On days like these, he would say to his orderly in the morning:

- Give me my old cap.

Take his example. Save your indignation for important occasions: be the shepherd of your tears. Scenes are only effective when they are rare. In countries where thunderstorms occur almost every day, no one pays attention to them. I won’t use myself as an example. By nature I am not irritable, but once or twice a year I lose my temper when too outrageous injustice or absurdity deprives me of my usual calm. On days like these, everyone around me gives in to me. Surprise is one of the keys to victory. Fewer scenes, madam, but with more brilliance! Farewell.

About the golden nail

Finally you answered me! Oh, without identifying yourself, of course. The stranger is still a stranger to me. But now I at least know your handwriting, and I like it. Straight, clear, legible letters are the handwriting of a decent person. And a decent woman? Maybe! But in your letter you ask me an unusual question.

“For five years now,” you write, “I have had a gentle and intelligent friend. He visits me almost every day, advises me on what books to read, what to watch in the theater, in a word, he fills my leisure time in the most pleasant way. We never crossed the boundaries of friendship; I have no desire to become his mistress, but he achieves this, insists, simply torments me; he claims that I have more pride than passion, that he suffers unbearably, that this cannot go on much longer and that he will eventually stop seeing me. Should I give in to this blackmail? The word is nasty, but accurate, because he knows very well that I need his friendship. Apparently he doesn’t value my friendship enough if he’s trying to achieve something else?..”

I don’t know, madam, whether you have read the story “The Golden Nail” by Sainte-Beuve. He wrote it to conquer a woman in relation to whom he was in the same position as your friend is in relation to you. A lovely young woman, slightly resembling Diana the Huntress, who had no children, and looked younger than her years, doomed him to torment, denying him the last gift of love; He used skillful arguments to achieve such a longed-for favor. “To have, at the age of thirty-five or forty, even if only once, a woman whom you have known and loved for a long time, is what I call driving together the golden nail of friendship.”

Sainte-Beuve believed that tenderness, fastened with this “golden nail,” is then preserved throughout life more reliably than a feeling based simply on gratitude, friendly affection or common interests. In support of his opinion, he quoted the words of one excellent writer of the 18th century: “After intimacy“, lasting just a quarter of an hour, between two people who have not even love, but at least attraction to each other, such trust arises, such ease of communication, such tender attention to each other, which will not appear even after ten years of strong friendship.”

This problem of the “golden nail” is now facing you, madam. As far as I understand, your friend poses the question in the same way as Sainte-Beuve put it in the time of Sophie Loiret d'Arbouville; a man really experiences tantalum's torments when faced with a coquette (perhaps without even realizing it), who constantly promises him bliss, but leaves him hungry. Still, I don’t believe in the “golden nail.” The first experience is rarely the most successful. So you will need a whole board, studded with similar nails.

In truth, if your friend suffered as much as he claims, he would have overcome your resistance a long time ago. Women intuitively guess sensitive men, with whom you can stay on friendly terms. And although this somewhat surprises them (one Englishwoman explained the essence this way) platonic love: “She’s trying to understand what he wants, but he doesn’t want anything”), yet they are quite happy and even abuse the created situation. Once a true lover appears, however, goodbye to “friendly ghosts.” From the very day when Chateaubriand achieved his goal, Juliette Recamier belonged only to him. For a long time she tried to keep the flowers of love intact, but later she became convinced that the fruits were also good. If you can, learn from it. useful lesson. The best oracles were explained in riddles. Farewell.

About the lecturer's arrival

- Do you think it's him?

- Sure.

- In appearance, however, he does not look like a writer.

– He looks like a concerned man... He is looking for us... Hello, dear master.

- A! Hello... Are you Mr. Bernard?

- He's the one. And this is my wife... She still didn’t want to believe that you were you... You seem older than in the photographs... Didn’t the trip tire you too much?

– Tired as a dog... Been on the road all day... Doubtful lunch... In a word... But I still have two whole hours before the lecture starts, so I’ll have time to rest.

– Let’s say you don’t have two hours... Before taking you to the hotel, I would like to show you the hall... You will be pleased to see it.

- Really, no... After all, this won’t make him any better...

“I’m extremely upset, dear master, but we need to look there.” I arranged a meeting with Mr. Blavsky, the owner of the cinema; he is waiting for us... And Mr. Blavsky is an unusually touchy man... Besides, dear master, it’s better if I explain something to you on the spot... Our hall is large, but the acoustics in it are not good... You should speak very loudly and stay close at all times table, turning slightly to the left...

- I hope at least that your stage is heated, I recently had the flu, and my doctor...

- Alas, no. There is, of course, central heating, but it doesn’t work... However, when the hall is full, it heats up quickly... Unfortunately, there won’t be too many of us this evening.

- What, they didn’t sell enough tickets?

– Very little, dear master... Only twenty-five or thirty... But don’t worry; When I learned about this misfortune, I ordered free entrance tickets to be sent to schools and barracks so that the hall would not seem so empty.

– Is it always like this with you?

- Oh no, dear master, it happened that the lectures were a great success... However, this evening in concert hall Jacques Thibault plays the mayor's office, and at the Municipal Theater they give " Hard times"performed by the Bare troupe touring here... So the lecture, naturally...

– Couldn’t you have previously agreed with the organizers of the concerts and the director of the theater?

- This is in some way a question of politics, dear master... You yourself know what local feuds are... One way or another, we still wouldn’t have gathered a large audience... The topic of the lecture - “The Novels of Stendhal” - attracts few people... I wouldn’t like you upset, dear master, but you must agree... No, in our places we like lectures on other topics, for example, “Song in 1900” with listening to records or, say, “Love in Turkey”... However, I have no doubt that everything will be fine and those who come will not regret it... But for our society it is somewhat expensive, since it is not rich.

Recognized as an unsurpassed author of biographies. But the literary activity of the French writer is very rich and versatile. He has written biographical novels and psychological stories, love novels and travel essays, philosophical essays and fantasy stories. But no matter what genre his books belong to, the harmony of the writer Maurois’s language, clarity of thought, perfection of style, subtle irony and fascinating narrative will forever captivate readers.

Biography of the writer

Emile Erzog, known to readers as Andre Maurois, was born into a family of industrialists in Normandy, near Rouen, in 1885. His father was the owner of a textile factory, where Andre himself later worked as an administrator. The writer's childhood was serene: wealthy parents, friendly family, respect and attention from adults. Later, the author wrote that this was precisely what formed in him tolerance for other people’s opinions, a sense of personal and civic duty.

As a child he read a lot. Particularly noted is his love for Russian writers, which did not fade until last days life. He first began writing at the Rouen Lyceum, where he studied since 1897. Among the teachers of the future writer Maurois was the philosopher Alain, who had a significant influence on the young man’s worldview. Having received a licentiate degree, Andre still chose to study family business, which he did for about ten years. After the death of his father, Maurois refused to run the family business and devoted himself entirely to his literary career.

Years of war

During World War I, the French writer Maurois served as a liaison officer, and then worked on the editorial staff of the magazine Croix de Fé. Maurois participated in and served in the French army at the beginning of World War II. Thanks to the connections of his second wife, in particular Marshal Pétain, in 1938 Maurois was elected chairman of the prestigious French Academy and held this chair for almost thirty years.

After the Nazi occupation of France, he and his family moved to the United States, returning to home country in 1946. In 1947, the writer legalized his pseudonym. He died in the suburbs of Paris and was buried in the Neuilly-sur-Seine cemetery.

Personal life

In 1909, in Geneva, the writer Andre Maurois met the daughter of a Polish count, Zhanna Szymkiewicz, who became his first wife and the mother of his two sons and daughter Michelle. The daughter became a writer; she wrote a trilogy based on many family letters. In 1918, Janine, the writer’s wife, suffered a nervous breakdown, and in 1924 she died of sepsis.

In the autumn of the same year, after the publication of the book Dialogues sur le commandement, he was invited to dinner by Marshal Pétain. Here the writer meets Simone de Cailavet, the daughter of the playwright Gaston Armand and the granddaughter of Madame Armand, the owner of a fashionable literary salon and the muse of the writer Anatole France. Simone and Andre's wedding took place in 1926.

Literary heritage

French writer Andre Maurois left a rich literary heritage. Despite the fact that he began writing quite early, he published his short stories only in 1935. Maurois collected them in the book “First Stories”. This also included the short story “The Birth of a Celebrity,” written by the writer in 1919. The difference between semi-children's stories and this novella is striking.

He published his first book, The Silence of Colonel Bramble, based on his memories of the First World War, in 1918. Maurois was very demanding of himself, which partly explains the success that his first novel brought. It is difficult to name a genre to which a writer would remain indifferent. His legacy includes historical research, novelized biographies, sociological essays, stories for children, psychological novels and literary essays.

Books by Andre Maurois

Memories and experiences gained in the First World War formed the basis of two books by the writer Maurois: The Silence of Colonel Bramble, published in 1918, and The Speeches of Dr. O'Grady, published in 1921. IN post-war years the writer creates psychological novels:

• in 1926 Bernard Quesnay was published;
• “The Vicissitudes of Love” was published in 1928;
• in 1932 the world saw " Family circle»;
• in 1934 - “Letters to a Stranger”;
• in 1946 - a collection of stories “The Promised Land”;
• in 1956 - “September Roses”.

The writer penned a trilogy of the lives of English romantics, which was later published under common name"Romantic England". It included: the book “Ariel”, published in 1923; “The Life of Disraeli” and “Byron” were published in 1927 and 1930, respectively. Literary portraits French writers compiled four books:

• 1964 - “From La Bruyère to Proust”;
• 1963 - “From Proust to Camus”;
• 1965 - “From Gide to Sartre”;
• 1967 - “From Aragon to Monterlant.”

A master of the biographical genre, Maurois is the author of books about great people, in which, based on accurate biographical data, he draws their living images:

• 1930 - “Byron”;
• 1931 - “Turgenev”;
• 1935 - “Voltaire”;
• 1937 - “Edward VII”;
• 1938 - “Chateaubriand”;
• 1949 - “Marcel Proust”;
• 1952 - “George Sand”;
• 1955 - “Victor Hugo”;
• 1957 - “Three Dumas”;
• 1959 - “Alexander Fleming”;
• 1961 - “The Life of Madame de Lafayette”;
• 1965 - “Balzac”.

The writer Maurois is the author of scientific and journalistic books: “History of England”, published in 1937, “History of the United States” was published in 1943, “History of France” in 1947. Creative heritage The writer's career is enormous: he owns more than two hundred books and thousands of articles. The writer's collected works were published in the early 50s in sixteen volumes.

The undeniable quality of Andre Maurois as a writer is his refined psychologism, which is clearly manifested in his works. I would like to end the article with his words, which sound like a testament to his contemporaries: “The artist is obliged to make clear such an incomprehensible real world. Readers look for high spiritual values ​​and new strength in books. Our responsibility is to help the reader see the HUMANITY in every person.”

Andre Maurois

Letters to a stranger

LETTRES A L'INCONNUE

© Héritiers André Maurois, Anne-Mary Charrier, Marseille, France, 2006

© Translation. Y. Lesyuk, 2015

© Russian edition AST Publishers, 2015

Letters to a stranger

You exist, and at the same time you are not. When one of my friends suggested that I write to you once a week, I mentally drew an image of you. I created you beautiful - both in face and in mind. I knew: you will not be slow to emerge alive from my dreams and will begin to read my messages, and answer them, and tell me everything that the author wants to hear.

From the very first day I gave you a certain appearance - the appearance of an extremely beautiful and young woman whom I saw in the theater. No, not on stage - in the hall. None of those who were next to me knew her. Since then, you have found eyes and lips, a voice and to become, but, as befits, you still remain a Stranger.

Two or three of my letters appeared in print, and, as expected, I began to receive replies from you. Here “you” is a collective person. There are many different strangers of you: one is naive, the other is absurd, and the third is a minx and a mocker. I was impatient to start a correspondence with you, but I resisted: you had to remain all of you, it was impossible for you to become one.

You reproach me for my restraint, for my constant sentimental moralism. But what can you do? And the most patient of people will remain faithful to a stranger only on the condition that one day she will open up to him. Merimee quickly learned that his stranger's name was Jenny Daquin, and soon he was allowed to kiss her lovely feet. Yes, our idol must have legs and everything else, because we get tired of contemplating the incorporeal goddess.

I promised that I would continue this game as long as I found pleasure in it. More than a year passed, I put an end to our correspondence, and there were no objections. An imaginary break is not at all difficult. I will keep a wonderful, unclouded memory of you. Farewell.

About one meeting

That evening I was not alone at the Comédie Française. “They only gave Moliere,” but with great success. The Lady of Iran laughed heartily; Robert Kemp seemed to be in bliss; Paul Leautaud attracted everyone's attention.

The lady sitting next to us whispered to her husband: “I’ll tell Aunt Clemence on the phone that I saw Leoto, she’ll be happy.”

You sat in front, wrapped in arctic fox furs, and, as in the time of Musset, your chosen “black braid on a marvelous flexible neck” swayed in front of me. During intermission, you leaned over to your friend and asked animatedly: “How to become loved?” I, in turn, wanted to lean over to you and answer with the words of one of Moliere’s contemporaries: “To please others, you need to talk to them about what pleases them and what interests them, avoid arguing about unimportant subjects, rarely ask questions and in no way if you don’t let them suspect that you can be smarter than them.”

Here are the tips of someone who knew people! Yes, if we want to be loved, we need to talk to others about something other than what is important to us. us, but about what takes their. What keeps them busy? They are themselves. We will never bore a woman if we talk to her about her character and beauty, if we ask her about her childhood, her tastes, and what makes her sad. You will also never bore a man if you ask him to talk about himself. How many women have gained fame as skilled listeners! However, there is no need to listen, it is enough just to pretend that you are listening.

“Avoid arguing about unimportant subjects.” Arguments presented in a harsh tone infuriate the interlocutor. Especially when the truth is on your side. “Every sensible remark hurts,” said Stendhal. Your interlocutor may have to admit the irrefutability of your arguments, but he will not forgive you for this forever. In love, a man strives not for war, but for peace. Blessed are the gentle and meek women, they will be loved more. Nothing pisses off a man more than a woman's aggressiveness. The Amazons are deified, but not adored.

Another, quite worthy way to be liked is to speak flatteringly about people. If you tell them this, it will give them pleasure and they will feel good towards you in return.

I don’t like Madame de... - someone said.

What a pity! But she finds you simply charming and tells everyone she meets about it.

Really?.. It turns out that I was mistaken about her.

The opposite is also true. One caustic phrase, moreover, retold unkindly, gives rise to the worst enemies. “If we all knew everything that is said about all of us, no one would talk to anyone.” The trouble is that sooner or later everyone will find out what everyone is saying about everyone.

Let us return to La Rochefoucauld: “Under no circumstances should you let them suspect that you can be more intelligent than they are.” Isn't it possible to both love and admire someone at the same time? Of course, it is possible, but only if he does not express his superiority with arrogance and it is balanced by small weaknesses that allow others, in turn, to patronize him. The smartest man I knew, Paul Valery, showed his intelligence very easily. He put deep thoughts into a humorous form; He was characterized by both childishness and cute pranks, which made him unusually charming. Another smartest person is both serious and important, but still amuses his friends with his unconscious arrogance, absent-mindedness or quirks. They forgive him for being talented because he can be funny; and you will be forgiven for being beautiful because you keep it simple. A woman will never tire of even a great man if she remembers that he is also a man.

How to become loved? Giving those you want to captivate good reasons to be pleased with themselves. Love begins with the joyful feeling of one's own strength combined with the happiness of another person. To please means both to give and to receive. This is what, stranger of my soul (as the Spaniards say), I would like to answer you. I’ll add one more - the last - advice, it was given by Merimee his to a stranger: “Never say anything bad about yourself. Your friends will do it." Farewell.

About the limits of tenderness

Paul Valéry spoke excellently about many things, and in particular about love; he liked to talk about passions in mathematical terms: he quite reasonably believed that the contrast between the precision of expression and the elusiveness of feelings gave rise to a disturbing incongruity. I especially liked one of his formulas, which I dubbed Valerie’s theorem: “The amount of tenderness emitted and absorbed every day has a limit.”

In other words, no person is capable of living all day, much less weeks or years, in an atmosphere of tender passion. Everything tires you out, even being loved. It is useful to be reminded of this truth, because many young people, as well as old people, apparently are not aware of it. A woman revels in the first delights of love; she is overwhelmed with joy when she is told from morning to evening how beautiful she is, how witty, what a blessing it is to have her, how wonderful her speeches are; she echoes these praises and assures her partner that he is the best and smartest man in the world, an incomparable lover, a wonderful interlocutor. It’s much nicer for both. But what next? The possibilities of the language are not limitless. “At first it’s easy for lovers to talk to each other...” noted the Englishman Stevenson. “I am me, you are you, and everyone else is of no interest.”

You can repeat in a hundred ways: “I am me, you are you.” But not a hundred thousand! And there is an endless string of days ahead.

What is the name of such a marriage when a man is content with one woman? - an examiner asked an American student.

Monotonous,” she answered.

So that monogamy does not turn into monotony, you need to vigilantly ensure that tenderness and forms of its expression alternate with something else. A loving couple should be refreshed by “winds from the sea”: communication with other people, common work, shows. Praise touches, born as if by chance, involuntarily - from mutual understanding, shared pleasure; becoming an indispensable ritual, it becomes boring.

Octave Mirbeau has a short story written in the form of a dialogue between two lovers who meet every evening in the park by moonlight. A sensitive lover whispers in a voice even more tender than a moonlit night: “Look... That bench, oh dear bench!” The beloved sighs in despair: “That bench again!” Let us beware of pews that have become places of worship. Tender words that appear and pour out at the very moment of manifestation of feelings are charming. Tenderness in rigid expressions is annoying.

French writer, classic of the biographical novel genre Andre Maurois; real name - Emil Herzog was born on July 26, 1885 in the town of Elbeuf near Rouen. Maurois came from a wealthy Jewish family from Alsace who converted to Catholicism. After 1871, having received French citizenship, the family moved to Normandy. Father Andre Maurois owned a textile factory. Andre attended the gymnasium of Elbeuf and Rouen. He played a significant role in shaping Maurois’s views on the world, society, and art. school teacher Emile Chartier, French philosopher, moralist and writer known as Alain.

In 1897, Maurois entered the Lyceum Corneille in Rouen, after which he entered the University of Cannes. At the same time, he began working at his father’s factory, where from 1903 to 1911. served as administrator.

During the First World War, André Maurois was a liaison officer for the British forces in France and served as a military translator for the British Expeditionary Force. War impressions served as material for Maurois's first novels, The Silent Colonel Bramble, 1918, and The Talkative Doctor O'Grady. After the death of his father in 1925, Maurois sold the factory and devoted himself entirely to literary creativity. In the 1920-1930s. Andre Maurois created a trilogy from the lives of English romantics: “Ariel, or the Life of Shelley”, “The Life of Disraeli” and “Byron”, which was later published under the general title “Romantic England”, and published several novels: “Bernard Quesnet”, “Vicissitudes” love", "Family circle".

In 1938 André Maurois was elected a member of the French Academy.

When did the second one start? world war, the writer volunteered for the active army, and after the occupation of France by German troops, he emigrated to the USA. He taught at the University of Kansas. In 1943 he served with the Allied forces in North Africa. In 1946, Maurois returned to France.

Close ties of friendship connected Maurois with the pilot and writer Antoine Saint-Exupéry. In the fall of 1939, both left the Ministry of Information to serve in the army. Fate brought them together again in exile in the United States, then in Algeria, liberated from the Germans.

After returning to his homeland, Maurois published collections of short stories, the book “In Search of Marcel Proust” (A la recherche de Marcel Proust, 1949).

Maurois's creative heritage is truly enormous - 200 books, more than a thousand articles. Among his works are psychological novels and short stories, fantastic novels and travel essays, biographies of great people and literary portraits, historical works and philosophical essays - “Feelings and Customs”, “Paul Verlaine. Caliban, who was Ariel”, popular science works - “History of England” and “History of France”.

In the early 50s. XX century A publication of the collected works of Andre Maurois was published in 16 volumes.

The literary portraits that make up four books by Andre Maurois are dedicated to French writers: “From La Bruyère to Proust” (1964), “From Proust to Camus” (1963), “From Gide to Sartre” (1965), “From Aragon to Monterlant” (1967) ).

In 1956, “Letters to a Stranger” was published by the La Jeune Parc publishing house in Paris. They appeared in Russian in 1974 in an abbreviated form in the journal Foreign Literature.

But, above all, Maurois is a master of the biographical genre, where, based on accurate documentation, he draws living images of great people. He gained worldwide fame biographical works"Byron" (1930), "Turgenev" (1931), "Lelia, or the Life of George Sand" (Lelia ou la Vie de George Sand, 1952), "Olympio, or the Life of Victor Hugo", "Three Dumas", "Life Alexander Fleming" (1959).

In the year of his 80th birthday, Maurois wrote his last biographical work, Prometheus, or the Life of Balzac.

In 1970, Andre Maurois' book "Memoirs" was published in France, in which the writer spoke about his life, about meetings with such great contemporaries as Roosevelt and Churchill, de Gaulle and Clemenceau, Kipling and Saint-Exupery.

Many of the writer’s works have been translated into Russian, including “The Vicissitudes of Love”, “The Family Circle”, “The Life of Alexander Fleming”, “Disraeli’s Career”, “Byron”, “Olympio, or the Life of Victor Hugo”, “Three Dumas”, "Prometheus, or the Life of Balzac" and others.

In the sixties, Maurois willingly appeared on the pages of the Soviet press. They established friendly relations with Soviet writers.

Maurois was a member of the public organizations, collaborated in democratic publications. He signed protests by cultural figures against the arrests of the Mexican artist David Siqueiros and the Greek poet Yiannis Ritsos.

Andre Maurois was married twice. After the death of his first wife, Janina de Szymkiewicz, he married Simone de Caivet, the niece of Marcel Proust.