Thursday, March 25, 2004
The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
_______________________________________________________________
Indolent and Unambitious Though He Was
Comment: Dear Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
I think it's important to also examine a persons friendship circles. e.g. [Henry] James's long friendship with Howard Sturgis. I do wish someone would publish a collection of Sturgis's letters...such funny high camp letters that could have been written yesterday. You can read selections in James Lee-Milne's terrific biography of Lord Esher 'The Enigmatic Edwardian' (http://www.jamesleesmilne.com/books.html). Sturgis's home, the aptly named Queens Acre (or Quaggers as it was known to the In set) was a Victorian drop-in centre for people like Esher and James...richly, worldly middle aged homosexuals.
Cheers
Peter J.
Response: Because Peter so strongly endorsed Sturgis, I decided to see what I could dig up on him; this led me to Alan Harris’s introduction to the 1965 edition of Sturgis’s final novel, Belchamber. Harris provides a good summary of Sturgis’s not particularly well documented life: born in England in 1855, (to an American father), Sturgis published just three novels. Sturgis and Henry James were friends but they apparently had some disagreement over Belchamber, which James didn’t think highly of. James wrote to Sturgis:
“It suffers (as I have already said this it may not – or may it just the more? aggravate you that I should say it again?) – it suffers from Sainty’s [the main character, I think] having no state of his own as the field and stage of the vision and drama – so that the whole thing doesn’t seem to be happening to him; but happening at the most round him; and one says: “To whom is it happening?” This is particularly sensible in the matter of his life, the essentially bafoue terms under the same roof, day by day, with his wife – which would be really for him an experience of some kind of Intensity.” (Borklund, Elmer. ‘Howard Sturgis, Henry James, and Belchamber’. Modern Philology, Volume LVIII, No.4. University of Chicago Press, May 1965. p. 262-263)
Elmer Borklund, the author of the excellent article in which the above is excerpted from, writes of Sturgis using James as the model of one of his characters:
“ “The China Pot” is the most directly autobiographical and personal of Sturgis’ works and, after Belchamber, probably the most accomplished. In six carefully constructed dramatic scenes Sturgis traces the appalling effect which an older writer’s criticism has on a younger artist. […] An older writer, Throckmorton (not present in the opening episode), is quite obviously James.” (Ibid., p. 265)
Regular readers of The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective), will recall that Edith Wharton also based one of her characters on Henry James. What did Wharton think of Howard Sturgis? In A Backward Glance, she writes:
“For Howard Sturgis was not only one of the most amusing and loveable of companions, but untiring in hospitality to the friends of his friends. Indolent and unambitious though he was, his social gifts were irresistible, and his drawing room – where he spent most of his hours, not from ill-health but through inertia – was always full of visitors.” (Wharton, Edith. A Backward Glance D. Appleton – Century Company Incorporated, New York and London: 1934. p.230)
For those interested in learning more about Henry O. Sturgis, I recommend the Harris introduction to Belchamber. Harris, besides mentioning A Backward Glance and the Borklund article, also cites A.C. Benson’s Memories And Friends.
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
_______________________________________________________________
Indolent and Unambitious Though He Was
Comment: Dear Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
I think it's important to also examine a persons friendship circles. e.g. [Henry] James's long friendship with Howard Sturgis. I do wish someone would publish a collection of Sturgis's letters...such funny high camp letters that could have been written yesterday. You can read selections in James Lee-Milne's terrific biography of Lord Esher 'The Enigmatic Edwardian' (http://www.jamesleesmilne.com/books.html). Sturgis's home, the aptly named Queens Acre (or Quaggers as it was known to the In set) was a Victorian drop-in centre for people like Esher and James...richly, worldly middle aged homosexuals.
Cheers
Peter J.
Response: Because Peter so strongly endorsed Sturgis, I decided to see what I could dig up on him; this led me to Alan Harris’s introduction to the 1965 edition of Sturgis’s final novel, Belchamber. Harris provides a good summary of Sturgis’s not particularly well documented life: born in England in 1855, (to an American father), Sturgis published just three novels. Sturgis and Henry James were friends but they apparently had some disagreement over Belchamber, which James didn’t think highly of. James wrote to Sturgis:
“It suffers (as I have already said this it may not – or may it just the more? aggravate you that I should say it again?) – it suffers from Sainty’s [the main character, I think] having no state of his own as the field and stage of the vision and drama – so that the whole thing doesn’t seem to be happening to him; but happening at the most round him; and one says: “To whom is it happening?” This is particularly sensible in the matter of his life, the essentially bafoue terms under the same roof, day by day, with his wife – which would be really for him an experience of some kind of Intensity.” (Borklund, Elmer. ‘Howard Sturgis, Henry James, and Belchamber’. Modern Philology, Volume LVIII, No.4. University of Chicago Press, May 1965. p. 262-263)
Elmer Borklund, the author of the excellent article in which the above is excerpted from, writes of Sturgis using James as the model of one of his characters:
“ “The China Pot” is the most directly autobiographical and personal of Sturgis’ works and, after Belchamber, probably the most accomplished. In six carefully constructed dramatic scenes Sturgis traces the appalling effect which an older writer’s criticism has on a younger artist. […] An older writer, Throckmorton (not present in the opening episode), is quite obviously James.” (Ibid., p. 265)
Regular readers of The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective), will recall that Edith Wharton also based one of her characters on Henry James. What did Wharton think of Howard Sturgis? In A Backward Glance, she writes:
“For Howard Sturgis was not only one of the most amusing and loveable of companions, but untiring in hospitality to the friends of his friends. Indolent and unambitious though he was, his social gifts were irresistible, and his drawing room – where he spent most of his hours, not from ill-health but through inertia – was always full of visitors.” (Wharton, Edith. A Backward Glance D. Appleton – Century Company Incorporated, New York and London: 1934. p.230)
For those interested in learning more about Henry O. Sturgis, I recommend the Harris introduction to Belchamber. Harris, besides mentioning A Backward Glance and the Borklund article, also cites A.C. Benson’s Memories And Friends.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
_______________________________________________________________
Dear Readers of The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
My apologies for the length of time since my last posting; I have been gambling in Atlantic City, with my friend Dr. R. (see Archives for The Case of Mary McCarthy and an oddly shaped penis). The trip was kind of a disaster; we didn’t lose lots of money or have a run-in with the local Mafiosi, and that lack of wackiness was the real problem. The casinos were weird and depressing. (I suppose the all-you-can-eat buffet at Caesar’s Palace did simulate the decadence of the Roman Empire.) Walking on the Boardwalk wasn’t even an option as the winds were approaching hurricane levels. The most exciting thing that happened was that a woman asked Dr. R. what time it was, and he (thinking she was a prostitute) said, “No thanks,” and then she said that she really wanted to know what time it was.
Below are two emails I received recently, which I am proud to share with you. (The first is from the Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)’s frequent contributor, Mr. S. Michael Mannix.) I will be back tomorrow with a more lengthy posting.
“Mike
I want to sincerely thank you for giving me the oppertunity to share my thoughts in a public forum. This is what the internet was supposed to be all about, I'm very glad that there still are people out there making the internet a fun and interesting place for intellectuals.
Thanks,
SM”
And from Michael H.W.,
“Literary Dick:
I'm a fan of your work on jonathanames.com, thanks for the great detective work!
I have 2 questions that I've been looking for answers to:
1.Is there any truth to the rumors that JD Salinger has written a number of books that won't be published until his death or a certain number of years after his death? Also, he is so secretive, how do we know he's not dead already?
2.John Richardson wrote what is considered the definitive biography of his friend Picasso. Yet only two volumes of the supposed four volume work have ever been published. What happened to the third and fourth volumes? Did he even finish them? Are they coming out soon? Is Richardson still alive?
Anyway, thanks for your help with this. And I look forward to reading more of your great detective work soon.
Sincerely,
Michael H. W.”
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
_______________________________________________________________
Dear Readers of The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
My apologies for the length of time since my last posting; I have been gambling in Atlantic City, with my friend Dr. R. (see Archives for The Case of Mary McCarthy and an oddly shaped penis). The trip was kind of a disaster; we didn’t lose lots of money or have a run-in with the local Mafiosi, and that lack of wackiness was the real problem. The casinos were weird and depressing. (I suppose the all-you-can-eat buffet at Caesar’s Palace did simulate the decadence of the Roman Empire.) Walking on the Boardwalk wasn’t even an option as the winds were approaching hurricane levels. The most exciting thing that happened was that a woman asked Dr. R. what time it was, and he (thinking she was a prostitute) said, “No thanks,” and then she said that she really wanted to know what time it was.
Below are two emails I received recently, which I am proud to share with you. (The first is from the Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)’s frequent contributor, Mr. S. Michael Mannix.) I will be back tomorrow with a more lengthy posting.
“Mike
I want to sincerely thank you for giving me the oppertunity to share my thoughts in a public forum. This is what the internet was supposed to be all about, I'm very glad that there still are people out there making the internet a fun and interesting place for intellectuals.
Thanks,
SM”
And from Michael H.W.,
“Literary Dick:
I'm a fan of your work on jonathanames.com, thanks for the great detective work!
I have 2 questions that I've been looking for answers to:
1.Is there any truth to the rumors that JD Salinger has written a number of books that won't be published until his death or a certain number of years after his death? Also, he is so secretive, how do we know he's not dead already?
2.John Richardson wrote what is considered the definitive biography of his friend Picasso. Yet only two volumes of the supposed four volume work have ever been published. What happened to the third and fourth volumes? Did he even finish them? Are they coming out soon? Is Richardson still alive?
Anyway, thanks for your help with this. And I look forward to reading more of your great detective work soon.
Sincerely,
Michael H. W.”
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
______________________________________________________________________
Before we get to The Case Against Henry James, pt II – George Moore, I'd like to share this email I received recently:
Dear Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
What's up with the title "The Turn of the Screw" by Henry Janes? What does
the title have to do with the novel? - William & Roxanne H.
______________________________________________________________________
The Case Against Henry James, pt II – George Moore
(Disclaimer: The Case Against Henry James is a regular feature on The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective), wherein I share the views of writers who are not particularly enamored of Henry James. It should be noted that the opinions expressed below should not be seen to reflect those of Jonathanames.com)
I came to the feud of Henry James and George Moore through the great Camilla Paglia, who writes lucidly of James, and how others have responded to him:
“People who dislike James are not simpletons impatient with complexity. His claim to explore ever mental nuance is false. There is good reason to be repelled by James’s duplicity and guile, for line by line we are being deflected from what we really want to know.” (Paglia, Camille. Sexual Personae. Paglia, Vintage Books. p. 615-616)
Towards the end of her critique, Paglia mentions Moore, an Irish writer, who uses less than reverential terms to describes an encounter with James:
“A flutter of feminine attention began at once about the important American, and while he talked in his pompous but not unfriendly manner, addressing his conversation by turns to Mary and Mabel Robinson, a little careless I thought, of the attentions of Vernon Lee and her admirations if his style, I was left to my meditations, and these began in a recollection of Henry James’ size, which seemed to have enlarged since I last saw him - a man of great bulk and such remoteness that one did not associate him with The Portrait of a Lady. He did not carry my thoughts towards a man who had known women at first hand and intimately, but one who had watched them with a literary rather than personal interest. And these thoughts drew my eyes to the round head, already going bald, to the small dark eyes closely set, and to the great expanse of closely shaven face. His legs were short, and his hands and feet large; and he sat portentously in his chair, speaking with some hesitation and great care, anxious that every sentence, or if not all, at least every third or forth, should send forth a beam of humor.” (Moore, George. Avowals p. 200)
In the same book, Avowals, Moore writes of a previous, chance meeting with James on a train; the two traveled together, spoke of literature, and began a correspondence:
“His difficult writing appeared again in a few days, and it began with an admission that The Portrait of a Lady was much too long. A delightful admission truly, but one that he spoilt by a qualification, for he said that the woman in The Portrait of a Lady represented a higher intellectual plan than Kate Ede[the heroine of Moore’s A Mummer’s Wife, I believe], and proceeded to draw from the alleged fact the conclusion that she lived an intenser life than the workwoman. He said, too, that he gathered from my book that Kate Ede’s intelligence was not part of the subject as I conceived it, which, of course, was true, her emotions and instincts having seemed to me enough. And so the question came how a clever man could deceive himself so thoroughly. [...] He mistakes detail for psychology”(Ibid., p 202-203.)
Moore is mentioned briefly in Leon Edel’s biography of Henry James, once with reference to a gathering James attended in (I think) 1911:
“Henry made a long speech; he spoke of many people he had known, and the delightful women, but he had never met, he said - never in all his experience - anyone who was so “unimportantly dull” as George Moore.” (Edel, Leon. Henry James: The Master: 1905-1916. Philadelphia, New York, J.B. Lippincott Company. p.458-459)
welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
______________________________________________________________________
Before we get to The Case Against Henry James, pt II – George Moore, I'd like to share this email I received recently:
Dear Literary Dick (as in Private Detective),
What's up with the title "The Turn of the Screw" by Henry Janes? What does
the title have to do with the novel? - William & Roxanne H.
______________________________________________________________________
The Case Against Henry James, pt II – George Moore
(Disclaimer: The Case Against Henry James is a regular feature on The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective), wherein I share the views of writers who are not particularly enamored of Henry James. It should be noted that the opinions expressed below should not be seen to reflect those of Jonathanames.com)
I came to the feud of Henry James and George Moore through the great Camilla Paglia, who writes lucidly of James, and how others have responded to him:
“People who dislike James are not simpletons impatient with complexity. His claim to explore ever mental nuance is false. There is good reason to be repelled by James’s duplicity and guile, for line by line we are being deflected from what we really want to know.” (Paglia, Camille. Sexual Personae. Paglia, Vintage Books. p. 615-616)
Towards the end of her critique, Paglia mentions Moore, an Irish writer, who uses less than reverential terms to describes an encounter with James:
“A flutter of feminine attention began at once about the important American, and while he talked in his pompous but not unfriendly manner, addressing his conversation by turns to Mary and Mabel Robinson, a little careless I thought, of the attentions of Vernon Lee and her admirations if his style, I was left to my meditations, and these began in a recollection of Henry James’ size, which seemed to have enlarged since I last saw him - a man of great bulk and such remoteness that one did not associate him with The Portrait of a Lady. He did not carry my thoughts towards a man who had known women at first hand and intimately, but one who had watched them with a literary rather than personal interest. And these thoughts drew my eyes to the round head, already going bald, to the small dark eyes closely set, and to the great expanse of closely shaven face. His legs were short, and his hands and feet large; and he sat portentously in his chair, speaking with some hesitation and great care, anxious that every sentence, or if not all, at least every third or forth, should send forth a beam of humor.” (Moore, George. Avowals p. 200)
In the same book, Avowals, Moore writes of a previous, chance meeting with James on a train; the two traveled together, spoke of literature, and began a correspondence:
“His difficult writing appeared again in a few days, and it began with an admission that The Portrait of a Lady was much too long. A delightful admission truly, but one that he spoilt by a qualification, for he said that the woman in The Portrait of a Lady represented a higher intellectual plan than Kate Ede[the heroine of Moore’s A Mummer’s Wife, I believe], and proceeded to draw from the alleged fact the conclusion that she lived an intenser life than the workwoman. He said, too, that he gathered from my book that Kate Ede’s intelligence was not part of the subject as I conceived it, which, of course, was true, her emotions and instincts having seemed to me enough. And so the question came how a clever man could deceive himself so thoroughly. [...] He mistakes detail for psychology”(Ibid., p 202-203.)
Moore is mentioned briefly in Leon Edel’s biography of Henry James, once with reference to a gathering James attended in (I think) 1911:
“Henry made a long speech; he spoke of many people he had known, and the delightful women, but he had never met, he said - never in all his experience - anyone who was so “unimportantly dull” as George Moore.” (Edel, Leon. Henry James: The Master: 1905-1916. Philadelphia, New York, J.B. Lippincott Company. p.458-459)
Sunday, March 21, 2004
The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective)welcomes questions about literary mysteries and scandals, which should be sent to: woodyswoody@hotmail.com. The Literary Dick (as in Private Detective) is published by Jonathanames.com
______________________________________________________________________
I would like to take this opportunity to thank my Uncle Lewis, for alerting me to a very interesting article on Henry James, which appeared recently in the London Review of Books; the article’s author: none other than Mr. Michael Wood. (In case there is any confusion, that Michael Wood is not me.) You can click go to that article by clicking http://www.lrb.co.uk/v26/n06/wood01_.html
______________________________________________________________________
Marcel’s Way
A little while ago, I received several Marcel Proust related emails. Here there are:
“Like many, I'm sure, I have often wonderd about the nature of Marcel Proust's sexuality. While I know of no rumors, nor have I even read a biography for the essential facts, maybe you could investigate him sometime?” – John S.
“A more interesting question: did Proust really masturbate while watching rats kill and eat one another?” – J.R.
“I think it's pretty much accepted that Proust was way gay -- I've flipped through a couple biographies (Edmund White's, for example. hey, another Edmund!) but I can't recall any of the details. Except that his father sent him to a brothel to cure his 'excessive masturbation', but poor Marcel couldn't get it up and ended up breaking a chamber pot which he then had to pay for (and borrowed money to do so, I believe).” – S.G.
As of this writing, I have not been able to find conclusive evidence regarding the rat-themed allegations, but I have found confirmation of the brothel/chamber pot incident, so I thought I would share that.
In Marcel Proust: A Life, William Carter writers:
“Marcel’s parents, alarmed at his proclivities, searched for solutions. His father concluded that his son needed to visit a brothel and gave him ten francs. Marcel went to a brothel, but in his consternation broke a chamber pot and lost his erection, and his money. Jeanne, fearing Adrien’s wrath if he found out Marcel had been so careless with the money while failing to obtain the desired results, advised him to appeal to his grandfather. Marcel sent Nathe an urgent plea for thirteen francs: “Here’s why. I so desperately needed to see a woman in order to put an end to my bad habit of masturbating that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a brothel. But 1ST in my agitation I broke a chamber pot 3 francs and 2d in this same agitated state I was unable to screw. So here I am still awaiting each hour 10 francs to satisfy myself and in addition 3 francs for the chamber pot.” He ended his petition on a humorous, bravura note: But I dare not ask papa for money again so soon and I hoped you will be able to come to my aid in this instance, which as you know, is not only exceptional but unique: it can’t happen twice in one lifetime that a person’s too upset to screw.” Unfortunately, the outcome of Marcel’s misadventure remains unknown.” (Carter, William. Marcel Proust: A Life. New Haven and London, Yale University Press: 2000. p. 70)
If you are interested in more Proust-sex stories, I recommend the Carter book. Here is more of it:
“Undeterred by the knowledge that the couplings he desired were generally considered perverse, Marcel expressed in his letters to his classmates, often humorously, his strong homosexual urges. […] In the spring of 1888, Marcel, still enamored of Jacques, handed him a letter at school, inviting him to have sex. Jacques, indifferent to the proposal, passed his unwanted suitor a note declining the offer while Marcel was on his way to M. Choublier’s history class. Once in his seat Marcel skimmed the letter and then, on the sheet of notebook paper intended for history notes, he wrote his reply. […]
‘My dear Jacques,
Under the stern eye of M. Choublier, I have just raced through your letter, propelled by my fear. I admire your wisdom, while at the same time deploring it. Your reasons are excellent, and I am glad to see how strong and alert, how keen and penetrating your thinking has become. Still, the heart – or the body – has it reasons that are unknown to reason, and so it is with admiration for you (that is, for your thinking, not for your refusal, for I am not fatuous enough to believe that my body is so precious a treasure that to renounce it required great strength of character) but with sadness that I accept the disdainful and cruel yoke you impose on me. Maybe you are right. Still I always find is sad not to pluck the delicious flower that we shall soon be unable to pluck. For then it would be fruit . . . and forbidden.’
[…] That spring Marcel wrote Jacques another letter, revealing that Marcel’s parents had discovered the nature of his sexual desires and his obsessive masturbation. […] Marcel described the scene that erupted when his father caught him masturbating: “This morning, dearest, when my father saw me. . . he begged me to stop masturbating for at least four days.”” (Ibid, 68-69)
Well, I hope you have found this interesting. If you have any information you think might help me solve The Case of Whether or Not Marcel Proust Really Masturbated While Watching Rats Kill And Eat One Another, I implore you to come forward.
______________________________________________________________________
I would like to take this opportunity to thank my Uncle Lewis, for alerting me to a very interesting article on Henry James, which appeared recently in the London Review of Books; the article’s author: none other than Mr. Michael Wood. (In case there is any confusion, that Michael Wood is not me.) You can click go to that article by clicking http://www.lrb.co.uk/v26/n06/wood01_.html
______________________________________________________________________
Marcel’s Way
A little while ago, I received several Marcel Proust related emails. Here there are:
“Like many, I'm sure, I have often wonderd about the nature of Marcel Proust's sexuality. While I know of no rumors, nor have I even read a biography for the essential facts, maybe you could investigate him sometime?” – John S.
“A more interesting question: did Proust really masturbate while watching rats kill and eat one another?” – J.R.
“I think it's pretty much accepted that Proust was way gay -- I've flipped through a couple biographies (Edmund White's, for example. hey, another Edmund!) but I can't recall any of the details. Except that his father sent him to a brothel to cure his 'excessive masturbation', but poor Marcel couldn't get it up and ended up breaking a chamber pot which he then had to pay for (and borrowed money to do so, I believe).” – S.G.
As of this writing, I have not been able to find conclusive evidence regarding the rat-themed allegations, but I have found confirmation of the brothel/chamber pot incident, so I thought I would share that.
In Marcel Proust: A Life, William Carter writers:
“Marcel’s parents, alarmed at his proclivities, searched for solutions. His father concluded that his son needed to visit a brothel and gave him ten francs. Marcel went to a brothel, but in his consternation broke a chamber pot and lost his erection, and his money. Jeanne, fearing Adrien’s wrath if he found out Marcel had been so careless with the money while failing to obtain the desired results, advised him to appeal to his grandfather. Marcel sent Nathe an urgent plea for thirteen francs: “Here’s why. I so desperately needed to see a woman in order to put an end to my bad habit of masturbating that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a brothel. But 1ST in my agitation I broke a chamber pot 3 francs and 2d in this same agitated state I was unable to screw. So here I am still awaiting each hour 10 francs to satisfy myself and in addition 3 francs for the chamber pot.” He ended his petition on a humorous, bravura note: But I dare not ask papa for money again so soon and I hoped you will be able to come to my aid in this instance, which as you know, is not only exceptional but unique: it can’t happen twice in one lifetime that a person’s too upset to screw.” Unfortunately, the outcome of Marcel’s misadventure remains unknown.” (Carter, William. Marcel Proust: A Life. New Haven and London, Yale University Press: 2000. p. 70)
If you are interested in more Proust-sex stories, I recommend the Carter book. Here is more of it:
“Undeterred by the knowledge that the couplings he desired were generally considered perverse, Marcel expressed in his letters to his classmates, often humorously, his strong homosexual urges. […] In the spring of 1888, Marcel, still enamored of Jacques, handed him a letter at school, inviting him to have sex. Jacques, indifferent to the proposal, passed his unwanted suitor a note declining the offer while Marcel was on his way to M. Choublier’s history class. Once in his seat Marcel skimmed the letter and then, on the sheet of notebook paper intended for history notes, he wrote his reply. […]
‘My dear Jacques,
Under the stern eye of M. Choublier, I have just raced through your letter, propelled by my fear. I admire your wisdom, while at the same time deploring it. Your reasons are excellent, and I am glad to see how strong and alert, how keen and penetrating your thinking has become. Still, the heart – or the body – has it reasons that are unknown to reason, and so it is with admiration for you (that is, for your thinking, not for your refusal, for I am not fatuous enough to believe that my body is so precious a treasure that to renounce it required great strength of character) but with sadness that I accept the disdainful and cruel yoke you impose on me. Maybe you are right. Still I always find is sad not to pluck the delicious flower that we shall soon be unable to pluck. For then it would be fruit . . . and forbidden.’
[…] That spring Marcel wrote Jacques another letter, revealing that Marcel’s parents had discovered the nature of his sexual desires and his obsessive masturbation. […] Marcel described the scene that erupted when his father caught him masturbating: “This morning, dearest, when my father saw me. . . he begged me to stop masturbating for at least four days.”” (Ibid, 68-69)
Well, I hope you have found this interesting. If you have any information you think might help me solve The Case of Whether or Not Marcel Proust Really Masturbated While Watching Rats Kill And Eat One Another, I implore you to come forward.
