Daughter of Eve by Balzac *

"His clothes were a necessary envelope to which he paid no attention, for his gaze soared too high in the clouds to come in contact with material things. And so this great unrecognized artist belonged to that generous race of the absent-minded, who give their time and their hearts to others, just as they drop their gloves on every table, their umbrellas at every door. Finally, his aged frame, badly set upon tottering, knotty limbs, gave ocular proof how far a man's body can become a mere accessory to his mind."

"The man whose action habitually bears the stamp of his mind is a genius, but the greatest genius is not always equal to himself, or he would cease to be human."

He would be equal to his genius- which is something that is not possible for us humans.

"The perfect happiness of Eve in her terrestrial paradise produces in her the nausea which comes from living too much on sweets...This, it appears, has been the meaning in all ages of that symbolical serpent to whom the first woman made advances, some day no doubt when she was feeling bored...She was conscious of a force within, which found no exercise. She was happy, but her happiness caused her pangs; it was placid and uneventful, she was not haunted by the dread of losing it...Not a zephyr's breath wrinkled this calm expanse; she longed for a ripple on the glassy surface."

How complex the female is, and yet, so much confusion within her. It is as if what she desires will never satisfy because she is so capricious..."When she was feeling bored" basically describes it all...

"Kindness is not without its rocks ahead. People are apt to put it down to an easy temper, and seldom recognize it as the secret striving of a generous nature; whilst, on the other hand, the ill-natured get credit for all the evil they refrain from."

"He was bound to be, and he was, for his Eve, listless in her paradise of the Rue du Rocher, the insidious serpent, bright to the eye and flattering to the ear, with magnetic gaze and graceful motion, who ruined the first woman."

First time I've ever come across this marvelous analogy to the Biblical Eve.
The comparison and metaphor is genius! Oh how many women were ruined by such men! It is the female's weakness, and that is what will "ruin" her forever...century after century. Maybe it is because "she was bored" and just an act out of curiosity?

"A woman's thought has marvelous elasticity; it may sink under a blow, to all appearance crushed, but in a given time it is up again, as thought nothing has happened."


"It seemed as though the art of man would also compete with the animal world."

"To the wonderful observer the scene presented more than this gaily decorated surface. It had a soul; it lived, it thought, it felt, it found expression in the hidden passions which now and again forced their way to the surface."

Beautiful, about the essence of Parisian society.

"Imagination has thrown open her fairy realms, and in these our spirits ranged at will, each in turn serving as magic steed to the other, the more alert quickening the drowsy; the world from which our bodies were shut out became the playground of our fancy, which reveled there in frolicsome adventure."

What worlds, what realms imagination provides. The imagination is the "playground" for our spirits, in which are bodies are but a concept- they are the idea, our spirit being the true "body".

"Love, as we imagined it, a world of wonders, of glorious dreams, of charming realities, of sorrows that waken sympathy, and smiles that make sunshine does not exist. The bewitching words, the constant interchange of happiness, the misery of absence, the flood of joy at the presence of the beloved one- where are they? What soil produces these radiant flowers of the soul? Which is wrong? Who has lied to us? Ourselves or the world?'"

The juxtaposition of this is almost ironic...

"Love, dear, is the product of such rare conditions that it is quite possible to live a lifetime without coming across the being on whom the nature has bestowed the power of making one's happiness. The thought is enough to make one shudder; for if this being is found too late, what then?"

Shows how fragile our lives are, how each little detail can contribute so much to our lives- our experiences. One little thing can twist our whole lives into a completely different direction. How helpless and out of control we are! We pathetic human beings! How the creatures above must be entertained by the irony- we could pass our chosen "being" in the street without even knowing it!

"Rich, young, and beautiful, I have only to love, and love would become my soul occupation, my life;"

Oh the optimism of youth!

"Sometimes, at night, I will linger for an hour by my window, gazing into the garden, summoning the future, with all it brings, out of the mystery which shrouds it. There are days too, when, having started for a drive, I get out and walk in the Champs-Elysees, and picture to myself that the man who is to waken my slumbering soul is at hand, that he will follow and look at me."

Delicate themes that Balzac addresses, which makes him such a marvelous man, a genius!

"...treasures whence should issue a unique satisfaction of passion and desire, hours of poetry to outweigh years, joys to make a man serve a lifetime for one gracious gesture- all this to be buried in the tedium of a tame, commonplace marriage, to vanish in the emptiness of an existence which you will come to loathe!"

And that is the unfortunate reality- this is how the naive hope become crushed by the brutality of reality

"Love, as I conceive it, is a purely personal poem. In all that books tell us about it, there is nothing which is not at once false and true."

"Thus it might happen that he would spend his life in ignorance of true love, while all the time possessing those qualities most fitted to inspire it. But if ever he find the ideal woman who has haunted his waking dreams, if he meet with a nature capable of understanding his own, one who could fill his soul and pour sunshine over his life, could shine as a star through the mists of this chill and gloomy world, lend fresh charm to existence, and draw music from the hitherto silent chords of his being- needless to say, he would recognize and welcome his good fortune."

Good fortune indeed! To have something dormant inside of you, to be capable of cultivating it but not knowing about its very existence...that is incredible. Makes me wonder about people who have talents inside of them of which they do not know about.

"Not a moment passes without thoughts of you, for my whole being is bond up in you, and if you ceased to be its animating principle, every part would ache."

"...whilst great souls know how to clothe the merely natural instinct in all the graces of the spirit. The very strength of his spiritual passion imposes severe self- restraint and inspires them with reverence for women. Clearly, feeling is sensitive in proportion to the caliber of the mental powers generally, and that is why the man of genius alone has something of a woman's delicacy. He understands and divines woman, and the wings of passion on which he raises her are restrained by the timidly of the sensitive spirit.But when the mind, the heart, and the senses all have their share in the rapture which transports us- ah! then there is no falling to earth, rather it is to heaven we sour, alas! for only too brief a visit."

It is something divine..when the intellect and spirit meet.

"Dress, that splendid poem of a woman's life, the significance of which she had either exhausted or ignored, now appeared to her full of a magic hitherto unknown. Suddenly it became to her what it is to all women- a continuous expression of the inner thought, a language, a symbol. What wealth of delight in a costume designed for his pleasure, his honor."

"The humblest, as well as the most distinguished, woman must feel her head turned by the first open declaration of her power in such a transformation. Every change is a confession of servitude."

Interesting. The change is the devotion to the other person by action.

"Amidst this gay assembly, the lovers found their joy in a long draught of the delicious sensations arising from the words, the voice, the gestures, and the bearing of the loved one. The soul clings desperately to such trifles. At times the eyes of both will converge upon the same spot, embedding there, as it were, a thought of which they thus risk the interchange. They talk, and longing looks follow the peeping foot, the quivering hand, the fingers which toy with some ornament, flicking it, twisting it about, then dropping it, in significant fashion. It is no longer words or thoughts which make themselves heard, it is things,; and that in so clear a voice, that often the man who loves will leave to others the task of handing a cup of tea, a sugar-basin, or what not, to his lady-love, ind read lest his agitation should be visible to eyes which, apparently seeing nothing, see all. Thronging desires, mad wishes, passionate thoughts, find their into a glance and die out there. The pressure of a hand, eluding a thousand Avgus eyes, is eloquent as written pages, burning as a kiss. Love grows by all that it denies itself' it treads on obstacles to reach the higher. And barriers, more often crushed than cleared, are hacked and cast into the fire to feed its flames. Here it is that women see the measure of their power, when love, that is boundless, coils up and hides itself within a thirsty glance, a nervous thrill, behind the screen of normal civility. How often has not a single word, on the last step of a staircase paid the price of an evening's silent agony and empty talk!"

Goodness, Balzac so easily pinpointed a concept that I was interested in; the act of hiding such an emotion under the cool pretenses of civility. Amazing, once again.

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My favorite book by Balzac, so far. So many marvelous descriptions of love, of the emotions of youth...such delicate subjects and he tends to them with such tenderness... He is the french Turgenev. The story was extremely interesting; how the woman wanted her "one" to be her salvation...and how unexpected the ending was. Loved it! Of course.

Most of all, I really enjoyed the concept of "the daughters of Eve", and the "apple" being a seducer. The weakest point of woman is to be flattered and tended to, to be "petted" and given attention- this strokes her femininity- therefore making the seducer the perfect "serpent" for woman.

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Pub by Gebbie Publishing Company