By Louis-Ferdinand Céline
Quand Céline rencontre les dieux et revisite los angeles mythologie, quand il met en scène son imaginaire, on assiste à un spectacle overall où l'amour, los angeles jalousie, les sons et les lumières se mêlent en une sarabande extravagante d'invention et de drôlerie. Et Céline n'est jamais loin de l. a. scène. Ne serait-ce pas lui-même qui parle ainsi du dieu Mars : 'En musique ambitious, il rémoule, rémoule... Je vous roule tous dans los angeles farine ! Voilà son invective finale.'
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Additional resources for Ballets sans musique, sans personne, sans rien/Secrets dans l'Ile/Progrès
How wonderful to be in the country! How cool it must feel, in the beech wood! And, his nostrils wide, he would take deep breaths, hoping to smell those good country smells that never ever reached his window. He grew thinner, he grew taller, and his face took on a kind of plaintive expression that made it almost interesting. Inevitably, out of apathy, he gradually came to abandon all the good resolutions he had made. The ﬁrst time, he missed hospital rounds, the next, his lecture, and then, ﬁnding idleness to his taste, little by little he gave up his studies entirely.
Cried the master. ’* The ensuing hullabaloo began instantaneously and grew louder and louder, punctuated by shrill shrieks. They howled, they bayed, they stamped, repeating ‘Charbovari! ’ again and again. The din rumbled along, with occasional isolated bursts of sound, dying away only with extreme reluctance and occasionally starting up afresh along one of the benches where, like a half-spent squib, a smothered laugh would suddenly erupt. Little by little, however, a deluge of penalties restored order in the classroom, and the master, ﬁnally grasping the name of Charles Bovary after having it dictated and spelled out and then rereading it Madame Bovary himself, promptly ordered the poor devil to go and sit on the dunce’s seat at the foot of the rostrum.
Père Rouault embraced his future son-in-law. They put oﬀ any discussion of money matters, there was plenty of time for that, since the marriage could not decently take place before the end of Charles’s mourning, that is to say, not until the following spring. The winter passed in waiting. Mademoiselle Rouault busied herself with her trousseau. Part of it was ordered from Rouen, and she made herself nightgowns and nightcaps with the help of fashionplates which she borrowed. During the visits Charles made to the Madame Bovary farm they talked about the preparations for the wedding, wondering which room they’d use for the wedding feast, how many courses they’d have, and what particular dishes they’d serve.
Ballets sans musique, sans personne, sans rien/Secrets dans l'Ile/Progrès by Louis-Ferdinand Céline