large/7215/rameaus_nephew_bb3_librivox_64kb_mp3/rameausnephew_8_diderot_64kb_107
large/7215/rameaus_nephew_bb3_librivox_64kb_mp3/rameausnephew_8_diderot_64kb
English
7215
But how does one feel, raise oneself, think, or describe anything with energy when one hangs out with people like those it's necessary to see in order to live, in the midst of the comments one makes and hears and gossip like this, 'Today the boulevard was charming. Did you hear the little Marmotte? She played enchantingly. BUT HOW DOES ONE FEEL RAISE ONESELF THINK OR DESCRIBE ANYTHING WITH ENERGY WHEN ONE HANGS OUT WITH PEOPLE LIKE THOSE IT'S NECESSARY TO SEE IN ORDER TO LIVE IN THE MIDST OF THE COMMENTS ONE MAKES AND HEARS AND GOSSIP LIKE THIS TO DAY THE BOULEVARD WAS CHARMING DID YOU HEAR LITTLE MARMOT SHE PLAYED ENCHANTINGLY
it, nothing emerges." Then he began shaking his head and hitting his forehead again even more firmly, saying, "Either no one is in there or they won't answer." A moment later, he took on a proud attitude. He raised his head, laid his right hand over his heart, walked along and said, "I feel. Yes, I do feel.." He imitated for me a man who was getting annoyed, who was indignant, who was feeling moved, who was issuing orders, who was begging. He improvised speeches of anger, sympathy, hatred, love. He sketched out passionate characters with a surprising delicacy and fidelity. Then he added, "That's it, I think. It's coming along. That's what it is to find a midwife who knows how to stimulate and bring on the labour pains and make the child emerge. When I'm alone, I take up my pen, intending to write. I bite my nails. I wear out my forehead. No good. Good night. The god is absent. I'd persuaded myself that I had some genius, but at the end of a line I read that I am a fool, a fool, a fool. G IN THERE BUT NO MATTER HOW HARD I KNOCK OR SHAKE IT NOTHING EMERGES THEN HE BEGAN SHAKING HIS HEAD AND HITTING HIS FOREHEAD AGAIN EVEN MORE FIRMLY SAYING EITHER NO ONE IS IN THERE OR THEY WON'T ANSWER A MOMENT LATER HE TOOK ON A PROUD ATTITUDE HE RAISED HIS HEAD LAID HIS RIGHT HAND OVER HIS HEART WALKED ALONG AND SAID I FEEL YES I DO FEEL HE IMITATED FOR ME A MAN WHO WAS GETTING ANNOYED WHO WAS INDIGNANT WHO WAS FEELING MOVED WHO IS ISSUING ORDERS WHO IS BEGGING HE IMPROVISED SPEECHES OF ANGER SYMPATHY HATRED LOVE HE SKETCHED OUT PASSIONATE CHARACTERS WITH A SURPRISING DELICACY AND FIDELITY THEN HE ADDED THAT'S IT I THINK IT'S COMING ALONG THAT'S WHAT IT IS TO FIND A MIDWIFE WHO KNOWS HOW TO STIMULATE AND BRING ON THE LABOUR PAINS AND MAKE THE CHILD EMERGE WHEN I'M ALONE I TAKE UP MY PEN INTENDING TO WRITE I BITE MY NAILS I WEAR OUT MY FOREHEAD NO GOOD GOOD NIGHT THE GOD IS ABSENT I PERSUADED MYSELF THAT I HAD SOME GENIUS BUT AT THE END OF A LINE I READ THAT I AM A FOOL A FOOL A FOOL
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