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Stendhal

Stendhal Biography

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“Mathilde made an effort to use the more intimate form; she was evidently more attentive to this unusual way of speaking than to what she was saying. This use of the singular form, stripped of the tone of affection, ceased, after a moment, to afford Julien any pleasure, he was astonished at the absence of happiness; finally, in order to feel it, he had recourse to his reason. He saw himself highly esteemed by this girl who was so proud, and never bestowed unrestricted praise; by this line of reasoning he arrived at a gratification of his self-esteem.”

PsychologyThoughtsInsightPsychological Prose
Book:The Red and the Black
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“Tahtın üzerine ya da yakınına doğan zeki insanlar, kısa sürede incelikli düşünme yetilerini yitirirler; çevrelerinde, kabalık olarak gördükleri konuşma özgürlüğünü yasaklarlar; yalnızca birtakım maskeler görmek isterler ve insanları tenlerinin güzelliğine bakarak yargılamaya kalkarlar; işin hoş yanı, sezgilerinin çok ince olduğuna inanmalarıdır.”

StendhalParma Manastırı
Book:The Charterhouse of Parma
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“So often have I studied the views of Florence, that I was familiar with the city before I ever set foot within its walls; I found that I could thread my way through the streets without a guide. Turning to the left I passed before a bookseller's shop, where I bought a couple of descriptive surveys of the city (guide). Twice only was I forced to inquire my way of passers by, who answered me with politeness which was wholly French and with a most singular accent; and at last I found myself before the facade of Santa Croce. Within, upon the right of the doorway, rises the tomb of Michelangelo; lo! There stands Canova's effigy of Alfieri; I needed no cicerone to recognise the features of the great Italian writer. Further still, I discovered the tomb of Machiavelli; while facing Michelangelo lies Galileo. What a race of men! And to these already named, Tuscany might further add Dante, Boccaccio and Petrarch. What a fantastic gathering! The tide of emotion which overwhelmed me flowed so deep that it scarce was to be distinguished from religious awe. The mystic dimness which filled the church, its plain, timbered roof, its unfinished facade – all these things spoke volumes to my soul. Ah! Could I but forget...! A Friar moved silently towards me; and I, in the place of that sense of revulsion all but bordering on physical horror which usually possesses me in such circumstances, discovered in my heart a feeling which was almost friendship. Was not he likewise a Friar, Fra Bartolomeo di San Marco, that great painter who invented the art of chiaroscuro, and showed it to Raphael, and was the forefather of Correggio? I spoke to my tonsured acquaintance, and found in him an exquisite degree of politeness. Indeed, he was delighted to meet a Frenchman. I begged him to unlock for me the chapel in the north-east corner of the church, where are preserved the frescoes of Volterrano. He introduced me to the place, then left me to my own devices. There, seated upon the step of a folds tool, with my head thrown back to rest upon the desk, so that I might let my gaze dwell on the ceiling, I underwent, through the medium of Volterrano's Sybills, the profoundest experience of ecstasy that, as far as I am aware, I ever encountered through the painter's art. My soul, affected by the very notion of being in Florence, and by proximity of those great men whose tombs I had just beheld, was already in a state of trance. Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty, I could perceive its very essence close at hand; I could, as it were, feel the stuff of it beneath my fingertips. I had attained to that supreme degree of sensibility where the divine intimations of art merge with the impassioned sensuality of emotion. As I emerged from the porch of Santa Croce, I was seized with a fierce palpitations of the heart (that same symptom which, in Berlin, is referred to as an attack of nerves); the well-spring of life was dried up within me, and I walked in constant fear of falling to the ground. I sat down on one of the benches which line the piazza di Santa Croce; in my wallet, I discovered the following lines by Ugo Foscolo, which I re-read now with a great surge of pleasure; I could find no fault with such poetry; I desperately needed to hear the voice of a friend who shared my own emotion (…)”

FlorenceStendhalFirencaStendal
Book:Rome, Naples et Florence
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“Provava un senso di orrore all'idea di dover mettere la sua amata solitudine e i suoi pensieri più intimi a disposizione di un giovanotto che, in qualità di marito, sarebbe stato autorizzato a sconvolgere tutta quella sua vita interiore. È vero, con la solitudine non aveva raggiunto la felicità, ma almeno era arrivata a evitare le sensazioni troppo dolorose.”

Letteratura
Book:The Charter-House of Parma (La Chartreuse De Parme) In Two Volumes
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“En una ciudad de veinte mil habitantes, estos hombres forman la opinión pública, y la opinión pública es terrible en un país que tiene privilegios. Un hombre dotado de un alma noble, generosa, que hubiera sido amigo vuestro, pero que vive a cien leguas, os juzga por la opinión pública de vuestra ciudad, que está formada por los imbéciles que la casualidad ha hecho nacer ricos, nobles y moderados. Desgraciado el que se distingue.”

CiudadPrivilegiosOpinión PúblicaPrivilegiadoRojo Y Negro
Book:Le Rouge et le Noir
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“If I meet the Christian Deity, I am lost: He is a tyrant and as such, is full of ideas of vengeance; His Bible speaks of nothing but fearful punishments. I never loved Him! I could never even believe that anyone did love Him sincerely. He is devoid of pity.... He will punish me in some abominable manner.”

IfsBelieveIdeasGodChristianReligionLostSpeakGuiltPunishmentPityTyrantsFearfulVengeanceDeitiesSincerely
Book:The Red and the Black: World Classics
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“A strange effect of marriage, such as the nineteenth century has made it! The boredom of married life inevitably destroys love, when love has preceded marriage. And yet, as a philosopher has observed, it speedily brings about, among people who are rich enough not to have to work, an intense boredom with all quiet forms of enjoyment. And it is only dried up hearts, among women, that it does not predispose to love.”

PeopleHeartDoeMadeEnoughFormMarriageHistoryRichEffectsCenturyStrangeQuietMarriedPhilosopherIntenseMade ItEnjoymentBoredomNineteenth CenturyMarried Life
Book:The Red and the Black: World Classics
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