His memoirs
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January 1925It's snowed in large flakes. Our fairy tale village was incredibly beautiful. Les Glycines was almost at the end of the village. The edge of the forest was only 100 meters away. One morning many deer footprints appeared deep in the snow. I suggested to mother that we should put two bowls of the good mash Rip seemed to appreciate on the pavement. She smiled and explained that deer do not eat the same food as dogs. In this case, for once, I was not sure that she was right. March 1925I finally understood the meaning of the snippets of conversations that had surprised me some time ago. We were on the move. Our destination would be nearby, almost in front, across the street, to the right of Bas Breaux, a little closer to the forest. Mother and Dany would open an antique store in a nice house with a garden. We had to leave Glycines which we were renting. The owner had decided to sell. Our budget did not allow us to buy the place, so we were on our way to a new episode in our lives. I felt as if I would like this change. The residential part was quite rustic but in perfect condition. It was an old farmhouse that had been well furnished by our painter friends, Charles Jacques. The shop would be located in a large room open to the joists in the ceiling, there was also a spacious side room serving as store. Thanks, especially to the Jacques family, but also to other well-wishers in the village, You and Dany managed to achieve everything necessary that it would take to open the shop as soon as the following month. The bulk of the stock was made up of many paintings, some canvasses by well-known painters, assorted antique furniture, all sorts of old things, in short stocked with everything that an antique shop worthy of the name should have. Many of the more valuable items had been acquired on credit. This would be quickly paid off. Indeed it was the good times when the US dollar was exceptionally strong against most European currencies, when Europe had been impoverished by the war. If the busloads of American tourists were much less numerous than they are today, their passengers nevertheless represented an incredible windfall for any business that interested them. Their considerable purchasing power, known to all, doubled and even tripled the price of the goods for sale. I can still hear the laughter of You and Dany in the evening after the passing of such a hurricane. The word is not too strong; it often happened that one article was coveted by two or even three buyers. Without any intervention by You and Dany, they then started bidding wars between them. This was the good fortune and delight of the business. Throughout the summer trade continued to be successful. Sales were incredibly easy, too easy. Everything went well, restocking continued without difficulty. In most farms and houses there was a lot of what was termed "junk"; families readily agreed to part with it for reasonable prices, which would be tripled for resale. To find them, Dany’s brothers worked wonders. Everyone in the area knew them and loved them. Trust and contacts were easily established, so success was quick and easy. Everyone founds their place of course. For my part, in the middle of all this activity, I had a lot of freedom. I was certainly still the subject of much love and attention, but at the same time I was very free and took full advantage of any opportunity. I had two friends with whom I spent all my time, most often in the forest, where, despite our young age, we would go off on our own. Marcel, the nephew of a young pilot, Rossi, who would in a few years’ time fly in a series of famous rallies around the world with his companion Cados; and Jacques, the son of the village doctor. We are a trio known all over the area. Not always for the best reasons, because we happened to visit a few orchards as scrumping was an irresistible pastime. You scolded me only because she had to, because she also enjoyed my ill-gotten gains, obviously without knowing where they came from, at least that is what she said. * * * Autumn 1925Did stability bring forth monotony? Business had been good, You recovered somewhat and regained some joy in life. In early October all three of us went to Carqueiranne, a pretty fishing village near Toulon. We were accommodated in a big house beside the small harbour in the centre of the village. It was an Earthly paradise for us. However like all boys of my age I had to go to school. I was surprised to find that I was immediately at ease. On the one hand my classmates accepted me without difficulty despite my Paris “clipped accent “. Because my escapades in the forest had given me strong legs and a robust constitution, they accorded me some respect. Also in Barbizon I had got into the pleasurable habit of every morning “being lazy” in You’s bed. There she taught me to read the daily newspaper “le Journal” which came very early, and gave her much pleasure in reading every morning. I had made rapid progress in a pleasant and effective way and now I took advantage of this at school where our teacher, who had appreciated my reading ability, had taken me under his wing. This first contact with the school was therefore all positive, and my first doubts were quickly dissipated. The pupils formed a tight knit, small, restless band always looking for new amusements. The climate was mild and sunny which favoured our activities. My accomplices and I learned to fish, and my catches brought home, were often welcomed affectionately with congratulations followed by a meal of fried food and fish soup. I, on the other hand, taught them to climb trees and lead them on adventurous walks in the countryside. There were occasionally some scratches and bruises, but nothing very serious Of course there was also the joy of my outings with You and Dany, most often along the shore. One day we walked on a thick carpet of algae which gave off a strong smell of iodine. I began to run ahead of them to express my happiness. A very aggressive change in this odour of iodine assailed my nostrils. This should have alerted me to slow down. Why aren’t young animals as experienced and careful than adults? If that were so, life would no longer have the same meaning, and I would not have fallen suddenly up to my neck in pit full of algae and rubbish that gave off foul stench. I flayed my arms with difficulty and avoided the worst thanks to the rapid and cool actions of Dany who held out a stick to me that she had picked up nearby thereby avoiding the risk of joining me in this infamous trap. Out of this mess, I presented a pathetic spectacle, arms and legs all over the place, screaming and crying with anger, upset and furious all at the same time. I soon realised that the others had great difficulty not to burst out laughing The last straw was that neither one nor the other wanted to come anywhere near me. The term ‘untouchable’ took on its true meaning. Fortunately the house was not far away. Washing my body was laborious and was augmented by a good rub with cologne. As usual, it all ended up in laughter good humour; ever since I have always felt a great distrust of seaweed mats. * * *
Roger arrived wrapped in his superb red burnouse which emphasized the pallor of his face. He would be well looked after which, by the end of his stay with us he would be back in full shape. Dany and he often went for long walks leaving us, You and I, alone together. But we saw in them so much happiness that we felt no jealousy. One morning, we left early for Hyères, where we embarked on a boat to Porquerolles. We spent a wonderful day in this dream island far from anywhere. These days it is invaded be hordes of tourists. You was happy, but sad and silent. Much later I would understand what this day meant to her; here in this place where she had spent many hours of pleasure with a Lieutenant of Artillery: Jean Poutet. It was in Porquerolles, I would learn later, that I was conceived. * * *
December 1925Our stay at Carqueiranne came to an end. We returned to Barbizon shortly before Christmas to find a cold that contrasted sharply with the sweetness of the air we had just left. The first thing to do as a matter of urgency was to heat the house and store, whose walls, after this long absence, had become very cold. We had to warm the place for ourselves no doubt, but also because we expected to get many visitors during this holiday period. Once again we spent Christmas with the Jacques clan, always extraordinary. Paint and kitchen smells make for a curious mixture; one has to like it. Marcel, the fourth brother, nicknamed “AK”, liked me and told me all kinds of funny stories accompanied by comical gestures that really make me laugh. He is just as happy as me. He was Dany’s 'favourite brother' and she got him out of scrapes and awkward situations that this inveterate womaniser managed to get himself into. Some of these situations almost turned into nasty dramas but that’s another story. The important thing on this day was that there were two pheasant that he and Roland, the youngest, had been poaching in the forest. The Rangers had always suspected them of their reprehensible activity, but they had never been caught. Christmas without snow this year, but it will be there two or three days later, abundant, pervasive and cruel to our friends, the animals of the forest. * * * 1st January 1926This week has brought me both joy and anxiety. Joy in finding my band of restless and faithful comrades again, despite the snow the forest is ours. In the area where we go most often the trees are our friends. Seeing us again they seem to greet us, spraying us with of a fine shower of snow with the slightest breeze, The rocks that we climb on without thinking are less welcoming. We quickly learn to treat them with caution and respect: they can become very slippery and we can end up with nasty bruises. This is a joyous reunion but in my heart there is a certain anguish which becomes more and more prevalent at the approach of the third of January, a cruel date when I will have to accept the hard fact of my first internship. Indeed, I have to enter as a boarder at the Collège St-Aspet in Melun, run by the Marist fathers. The idea of this separation from my loves, You and Dany; to be isolated among a unknown rabble and be the butt of all sorts of tortures, really frightened me, and I relapsed into despondency. You did her best to reassure me. It only did half a job and the other half only augmented my pain. Ms. Charlot and her “daughter” Odette visited us at the shop. They were our neighbours at « la Clairière », a beautiful property located across the main street, a little farther towards the forest. Despite my young age, I am struck by the vulgar snobbery of this former dancer-singer “caf-conc”4 who had convinced herself that she had acquired a real distinction by virtue of her marriage and the money she had married into As proof of this she said that she gave bridge parties to which she was able to invite “quality people ». But for her “clubs” will always mean “sorrel”. But Odette was different─ and that is all that mattered to me, as well as to You, ─ she had become a pretty little girl of four years; still too young to mingle with our games for boys, but after all... pretty nice to look at. Later, on the fringes of the bridge parties, which luckily for us took place more and more elsewhere, « la Clairière » became our regular meeting place for our young troupe, in fact until the eve of the war. * * *
3rd January 1926Arriving by taxi at St-Aspet in Melun a thin icy rain was coming down. It was as dull as the grey walls and somewhat leprous look of this old and famous religious institution. My whole being filled with anxiety and I also felt sad. The Father Superior’s office was cavernous but beautiful. The clean smell of wax gave me a little confidence but it was a false impression and an error of judgment, because the situation would develop such that grief, despair, and anger all conspired to suffocate and overwhelm me. After a short quarter of an hour of discussion to negotiate the terms and conditions of internship with You (internment would be more accurate), the father brought two young residents whom he said, would accompany me to visit the institution (classes, dormitory, refectory, Chapel), after which I would come to say 'goodbye' to my mother. Anticipating spending the following Sunday with her, You said to me: “shows them how well you dance the Charleston”. It is true that Dany had had success in teaching me the basics of this dance then very much in vogue, which sometimes I used to great advantage. Here I was running around with my new friends of whom I would discover with great anger their duplicity, but too late. I would soon find out the intricacies of these huge buildings: long corridors, stairs, classrooms, dormitory. It all seemed quite pleasant. Our section, for the little ones, was clean and not too dark. We went to meet one of the sisters responsible for linen, the nursing sisters, those who maintained our clothes. They were fairies in the middle of purgatory. 'Hell' seems a bit much to me. They were very nice to me, pointed out to me my bed as well as a locker where, she said, she would arrange all my things. We went down into the courtyard. It' was still raining The students played games, most of which I had not played before, under a huge covered area a long way from our wonderful times in the forest. I heard them say “here is a new one”. It was me they were talking about. My two guides introduce me and immediately gave away that I was a good Charleston dancer and I was obliged to dance it. It helped to have me accepted especially by the smaller ones, those of my age or younger. The elder ones wrongly thought that their prestige may be compromised. As a result I suffered some taunts and jostling. But now I had only one thing in mind, to find mother and say my farewells. I was disappointed. I was told that she had to leave, because the taxi, because of this... and that. I cried hot tears only finding a little consolation when one of my classmates, full of kindness, tried to comfort me by telling me: “you know, your mum, will be crying as much as you...” I would learn that he is an orphan and had only an Aunt to act as his single parent. Arnaud would become my friend; my friend in our incarceration. * * *
Easter 1925The term at St-Aspet came to an end. I had not stood up well to these three months of boarding, away from mother. The umbilical cord is decidedly not cut. In addition it was well known that the Marists did not promote a family atmosphere among their residents which, of course with a certain required discipline, promotes confidence and creates a good team spirit. The few hours spent with You every other Sunday of which I dreamed all week, just made parting more difficult. What a joy when I learnt that I would leave St-Aspet for ever, and that while waiting for a better solution I would spend my last term at l’Ecole Communale de Barbizon, it may not be the best panacea. A little stupidly I disliked the idea of École Communale, but there at least I'd be at home in Barbizon with You and Dany, and I would join some good comrades from our forays in the forest. During these Easter holidays I was reinvigorated. I returned to my usual routine, my places, and my friends. We invented a game giving us much enjoyment. It was to choose a young flexible tree of five to six metres in height, no more for the moment. We'll see later. One climbed as high as possible, i.e. until it started to bend. One then hung there suspended by the hands, body in the air, thus accentuating the movement of curvature that gently set us to the ground. Gently in principle ─ because it can happen ─ but it was rare that we chose well. If our chosen tree boke our return to the ground would accelerate, with sometimes unpleasant consequences. The eldest (those about. 12 or 15 years old) would tackle the taller trees of 8 to 10 meters, by not only climbing singly, but two or three at a time in order to have sufficient weight to bend our forest friend. Often it started to bend after only a short swing from right to left until we achieved our aim. There we would hang by the grace of God, our feet high in the air; what a wonderful feeling! We had only a single glitch, perhaps actually two; firstly a broken arm by a beginner; and secondly a serious problem with a forest ranger. Everyone assembling at the police station ‘Father’ Jacques intervened and sorted it all out without further consequences. The Easter holidays when I found my place in Barbizon again came to an end and it was thus that I completed these last three months of the school year being taught by the teacher at the municipal school of the village. Monsieur Carré, a plump forty year old with goatee beard and moustache, he looked stern in his checked suit with white waistcoat and polished gaiters on impeccable boots. He was in fact a man of great kindness and an excellent teacher; always looking for the best way to enable us to better assimilate his lessons. He had no need to raise his voice, he knew how to keep our interest and if necessary, to make us obey him. He was a teacher whom we loved and that made us good pupils. With him a cuffed ear never became red but we quickly learnt; my two best friends and I, who supported each other well, that we should not exceed certain limits under penalty of immediate sanction. * * *
Very soon after, we had our “general interest class”. Mr. Carré seemed to be in a good mood. We had only one thing in mind; our ban from the circus. Our teacher seemed to be a little less firm in his position. In this general interest class we found unsuspected resources in ourselves to mollify his attitude. Marcel, who had inherited his father's genes of a businessman, had an idea of putting forward the argument that such punishment would deprive the circus of a dozen spectators: the three of us and our parents. Mr. Carré understood the value of Marcel argument although not convinced of the logic. The punishment was lifted, but on the other hand we had to faithfully promise to lead blameless lives in future. Phew! At last we could afford a smile. * * * Directory: wp-content -> uploads -> 2016 2016 -> 2017 afoCo Landmark Scholarship Program 2016 -> Instructions for the Preparation of Camera-Ready Contributions to the Conference Proceedings 2016 -> Step student Scholarships for Year 10-13 2016 -> The united church of canada 2016 -> Idan raichel biography – May 2016 Brief Producer, keyboardist, Lyricist, composer and Performer Idan Raichel 2016 -> An introduction to centre’s interventions expanding access to justice 2016 -> Sanchar Shakti 2016 -> Unit analysis should help here. We want number of bananas 2016 -> The Autobiography of Elder Joseph Bates 2016 -> The Great Heat and the Rhode Island Deep Water Bay Scallop (Argopecten irradians) Fishery 1875-1905 Download 1.3 Mb. Share with your friends:
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