Ursule Mirouet
Honoré de Balzac
Language: English
Pages: 209
ISBN: 2:00335075
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In 1842, eight years before his death, Balzac described Ursule Mirouet as the masterpiece of all the studies of human society that he had written; he regarded the book as 'a remarkable tour de force'.
An essentially simple tale about the struggle and triumph of innocence reviled, Ursule Mirouet is characterized by that wealth of penetrating observation so readily associated with Balzac's work. The twin themes of redemption and rebirth are illuminated by a consistently passionate rejection of both philosophic and practical materialism in favour of love. In this case love is aided by supernatural intervention, which itself effectively illustrates Balzac's life-long fascination with the occult.
virtues. That mustn’t be the morality of a girl brought up by Monsieur de Jordy, Abbé Chaperon and our dear doctor!’ she said, looking at the portrait. Bongrand took hold of Ursule’s hand, and kissed it. ‘Do you know what Madame Minoret came for?’ the magistrate asked the priest once they were in the street. ‘What?’ said the priest, looking at the magistrate with a shrewdness that seemed to be mere curiosity. ‘She wanted to put things right.’ ‘Do you think so? …’ Abbé Chaperon replied. ‘I
most lawful of social feelings, concern for the welfare of the Family. 4 Zélie ‘Well, Monsieur Minoret,’ said the mayor (a Levrault-Crémière who had once been a miller, and was now a Royalist), ‘when the Devil grew old, he became a hermit. I believe your uncle has become one of us.’ ‘Better late than never, cousin,’ replied the postmaster, trying to hide his vexation. ‘Wouldn’t that fellow laugh if we were done down! He’d be quite capable of marrying his son to that blasted girl, who I
townsfolk and the collateral heirs gathered together in the market place in an assembly similar to the one they had held there a fortnight before. To the great astonishment of the various groups, Madame de Portenduère stopped old Dr Minoret as they were coming out of mass, and the doctor offered her his arm and walked home with her. The old lady wanted to ask him into dinner along with his ward, that very day, saying that the curé would be the other guest. ‘He will have wanted to show Ursule
postmaster to grow impatient at the sight of a meadow with cattle like those painted by Paul Potter, grazing beneath a sky like one in a Raphael painting, beside a canal shaded with trees in Hobbema’s manner? Anyone familiar with Nemours knows that in that town nature is as beautiful as art, the function of which is to give nature a spiritual dimension: at Nemours, the countryside itself is imbued with ideas and leads to reflection. But faced with Minoret-Levrault, an artist would have left the
point about the two matches that had failed to light, the retired postmaster felt his hair quivering in his scalp. ‘But who’s thought up such rubbish?’ he asked the priest, in a strangled voice, when the account was over. ‘The dead man himself!’ This reply caused Minoret a slight shudder, as he too saw the doctor in his dreams. ‘God, Monsieur Chaperon, is very kind to perform miracles on my behalf,’ said Minoret, inspired by his dangerous position to make the only joke he ever made in his