It was evident to me then that I existed in
the same manner as all other men, that I must grow old, that I must die
like them, and that among them I was to be distinguished merely as one of
those who have no aptitude for writing. And so, utterly despondent, I
renounced literature for ever, despite the encouragements that had been
given me by Bloch. This intimate, spontaneous feeling, this sense of the
nullity of my intellect, prevailed against all the flattering speeches
that might be lavished upon me, as a wicked man, when everyone is loud in
the praise of his good deeds, is gnawed by the secret remorse of
conscience.
One day my mother said: "You are always talking about Mme. de Guermantes.
Well, Dr. Percepied did a great deal for her when she was ill, four years
ago, and so she is coming to Combray for his daughter's wedding. You will
be able to see her in church." It was from Dr. Percepied, as it happened,
that I had heard most about Mme. de Guermantes, and he had even shewn us
the number of an illustrated paper in which she was depicted in the
costume which she had worn at a fancy dress ball given by the Princesse de
Leon.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337