Read Online Fermina Marquez (1911) by Valery Larbaud - Free Book Online Page B

are simply heirs apparent. They demand only two things of us: firstly, that we take advantage of the sacrifices they make; and then, that we allow ourselves to be shaped as they please, in other words that we become men without delay, so as to take over their affairs; sensible men who will not squander their fortunes acquired at such cost. "Ah, dear parents! We may perhaps grow to manhood; but we will never be sensible." We say that until the age of twenty because we believe we are destined for greatness.
Besides, Joanny's parents had betrayed his trust. The stories he had recounted to them in the initial instances of his homecoming from school — for example, the one about the deserted classroom where cigarettes were smoked in secret and the one where a bottle of champagne had been brought to the sixth-form boys by a servant — they had all been mysteriously reported to the prefect of studies. When the idea that his father was the sneak had crossed his mind, Joanny had felt a sudden shame: the sweetest of ties hitherto binding him to his folks had just snapped. From that moment on, he confided nothing to them any longer. As for them, they did not notice this change: the boy had good marks for his conduct and his work. What more could they ask for?
Above all, the secrets Joanny had to impart were not such as any person whosoever is able to hear. They were grand, sublime thoughts, intended to regenerate the world. Now the serious-minded middle classes, those who work, do not care for abstract politics, pure ideas, Utopias. They do not lose sight of material interests. Joanny was aware of a contrast between his parents' opinions and his own dreams which was distressing, almost absurd. And besides, Joanny Leniot's great notion would have made all straightforward people smile. He advocated a return to the hegemony of the Roman Empire, as it existed under Constantine and Theodosius.
We read Victor Duruy reluctantly and it was our loss. For if Duruy's History of Rome does not abound in enthusiasm, at least it was supposed to in us. At an age when we were starting to gorge ourselves on Emile Zola and Paul Bourget, sheltered behind our desks, Joanny Leniot was becoming intoxicated by Roman history. The mythical era, the monarchy and the beginnings of the Republic mattered little to him. It was from the Third Punic War that it became truly interesting. But the civilized world, once settled in the Pax Romana, presented a yet more admirable spectacle. Finally, the founding of a line of emperors had crowned off the work.
Oh! Why had the Empire not been better able to assimilate the Barbarians? Why all those little kingdoms? Doubtless, Clovis was raised to the consular purple; was he any less the King of the Francs for this? It was true that the Church lived on powerful and respected, as if the Empire, by dint of being divine, had merged with it — the Church becoming a spiritual Empire. And still to this day, the Church was what was left of the Empire.
"Yes I revere this residue of the Empire, I am hopelessly caught up in it," Joanny was explaining to his new friend. "Why did Charlemagne allow the division of the Empire? Why didn't Charles the Fifth reconquer the Gauls? Why didn't Napoleon have himself crowned Western Emperor? What is this name of a barbarian tribe which is attached to me: the French? I am not French. My catechism tells me that I am Roman Catholic and I construe that in this way: a Roman and ruler of the world! My sovereign, my only master is this great, lean old man always depicted in white vestments, the divine and august Leo, Emperor of the West! I have seen him; I so implored my parents that they took me to Rome last Easter holidays. We obtained an audience; I spoke to him. I had to say: 'Yes, Holy Father; no, Holy Father' but in my heart of hearts, I was crying out: Caesar!"
"Whereas he himself in his humility only wanted to be called the servant of God's servants!"
"Yes, you believe I'm a heathen. I can quite see