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Marcel Proust
Du coté chez swann.
A la recherche du temps perdu. Tome I
Swan's Way
Vol. 1 of Remembrance of Things Past
Première partie
Overture
Combray
I.
§2 /
§3
Previously the narrator described how he used to fall asleep early and awaken in the dark.
When waking at night, he either laid his cheeks to his pillow, or struck a match to check the time. It would be midnight. To describe the feeling of this moment, he evokes the image of an invalid awaking at midnight. The sick man sees a light under the door and thinks day is coming. Soon servants would come tend to him.
L’espérance d’être soulagé lui donne du courage pour souffrir.The thought of being made comfortable gives him strength to endure his pain.
The invalid would then hear footsteps and be sure the servants were coming. But they walk away.
Et la raie de jour qui était sous sa porte a disparu.The ray of light beneath his door is extinguished.
No. It's not day. It is midnight. The servants have turned off the gas and gone to bed.
il faudra rester toute la nuit à souffrir sans remède.he must lie all night in agony with no one to bring him any help.
From the original text:
J’appuyais tendrement mes joues contre les belles joues de l’oreiller qui, pleines et fraîches, sont comme les joues de notre enfance. Je frottais une allumette pour regarder ma montre. Bientôt minuit. C’est l’instant où le malade, qui a été obligé de partir en voyage et a dû coucher dans un hôtel inconnu, réveillé par une crise, se réjouit en apercevant sous la porte une raie de jour. Quel bonheur c’est déjà le matin! Dans un moment les domestiques seront levés, il pourra sonner, on viendra lui porter secours. L’espérance d’être soulagé lui donne du courage pour souffrir. Justement il a cru entendre des pas; les pas se rapprochent, puis s’éloignent. Et la raie de jour qui était sous sa porte a disparu. C’est minuit; on vient d’éteindre le gaz; le dernier domestique est parti et il faudra rester toute la nuit à souffrir sans remède.I would lay my cheeks gently against the comfortable cheeks of my pillow, as plump and blooming as the cheeks of babyhood. Or I would strike a match to look at my watch. Nearly midnight. The hour when an invalid, who has been obliged to start on a journey and to sleep in a strange hotel, awakens in a moment of illness and sees with glad relief a streak of daylight shewing under his bedroom door. Oh, joy of joys! it is morning. The servants will be about in a minute: he can ring, and some one will come to look after him. The thought of being made comfortable gives him strength to endure his pain. He is certain he heard footsteps: they come nearer, and then die away. The ray of light beneath his door is extinguished. It is midnight; some one has turned out the gas; the last servant has gone to bed, and he must lie all night in agony with no one to bring him any help.
From:
Proust, Marcel. Du coté chez swann. A la recherche du temps perdu. Tome I.
Available online at:
Proust, Marcel. Swan's Way. Vol. 1 of Remembrance of Things Past. Transl. C.K. Scott Moncrieff
Available online at:
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