Friday, August 26, 2011

Classic Love Letter: Napoleon Bonaparte to Josephine Beauharnais


Napoleon Bonaparte

Born: 15 August 1769
           Ajaccio, Corsica
Died: 5 May 1821 (aged 51)
           Longwood, Saint Helena, British Empire
Titles: Emperor of the French 
            Reign: 18 May 1804 - 11 April 1814 (9 years, 328 days)                      
                         20 March 1815 - 22 June 1815 (94 days)
            King of Italy
            Reign: 17 March 1805 - 11 April 1814


*Napoleon married Josephine de Beauharnais in 1796, when he was twenty-six; she was a thirty-two-year-old widow whose first husband had been executed during the Revolution. Until she met Bonaparte, she had been known as 'Rose', a name which he disliked. He called her 'Josephine' instead, and she went by this name henceforth. Bonaparte often sent her love letters while on his campaigns. (wikipedia.org)


December 1795

I wake filled with thoughts of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have
left my senses in turmoil. Sweet incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect you have on my heart! Are you angry? Do I see you looking sad? Are you worried? ...

My soul aches with sorrow, and there can be no rest for your lover; but is there still more in store for me
when, yielding to the profound feelings which overwhelm me, I draw from your lips, from your heart a love which consumes me with fire? Ah! it was last night that I fully realized how false an image of you your portrait gives!

You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours.

Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Classic Love Letter: Katherine Mansfield to John Middleton Murray


Kathleen Mansfield

Born                              October 14, 1888
                                       Wellington, New Zealand
Died                               January 9, 1923 (aged 34)
Pen name                     Katherine Mansfield
Nationality                    New Zealand
Literary movement    Modernism

Mansfield and Murray had begun, in 1911, a relationship that would culminate in their marriage in 1918. They led a troubled life during this time. (wikipedia.org)


Spring 1919

My love for you tonight is so deep and tender that it seems to be outside myself as well. I am fast shut up like a little lake in the embrace of some big mountains. If you were to climb up the mountains, you would see me down below, deep and shining - and quite fathomless, my dear. You might drop your heart into me and you'd never hear it touch bottom.

I love you - I love you - Goodnight. Oh, Bogey, what it is to love like this!


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Classic Love Letter: Juliette Drouet to Victor Hugo



Born
Julienne Josephine Gauvain
10 April 1806
Fougères, Brittany, France
Died
11 May 1883 (aged 77)
Paris, France
Nationality
French
Ethnicity
Breton
Occupation
Actress
Known for
Mistress of writer Victor Hugo
Juliette Drouet to Victor Hugo

Friday 8 p.m

If only I were a clever woman, I could describe to you my gorgeous bird, how you unite in yourself the beauties of form, plumage and song!

I would tell you that you are the greatest marvel of all ages, and I should only be speaking the simple truth. But to put all this into suitable words, my superb one, I should require a voice far more harmonious than that which is bestowed upon my species - for I am the humble owl that you mocked at only lately, therefore, it cannot be.

I will not tell you to what degree you are dazzling and to the birds of sweet song who, as you know, are non the less beautiful and appreciative. I am content to delegate them the duty of watching, listening and admiring, while to myself I reserve the right of loving; this may be less attractive to the ear, but it is sweeter far to the heart.

I love you, I love you. My Victor; I cannot reiterate it too often; I can never express it as much as I feel it.

I recognize you in all the beauty that surrounds me in form, in colour, in perfume, in harmonious sound: all of these mean you to me. You are superior to all. I see and admire - you are all!

You are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colours, but the sun himself, that illumines, warms and revivifies! This is what you are, and I am the lowly woman that adores you.

Juliette


Monday, August 15, 2011

Classic Love Letter: F.Scott Fitzgerald to Zelda Sayre

The source I got this letter from claims that this was written by F.Scott Fitzgerald to Zelda Sayre, but reading the letter, it says otherwise. Either way, this letter has the closest resemblance to my own state of love affair. :) While reading it, I couldn't help but think I was the addressee. :)

Francis Scott Fitzgerald
Born
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald
September 24, 1896
St. Paul, Minnesota, USA
Died
December 21, 1940 (aged 44)
Hollywood, Los Angeles, California, USA
Occupation
novelist, short story writer, poet
Nationality
American
Period
1920–40
Genres
Modernism
Literary movement
Lost Generation


*He is widely regarded as one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century.

*He finished four novels: This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and Damned, Tender is the Night and his most famous, The Great Gatsby.

*Scott and Zelda were married in New York's St. Patrick's Cathedral. Their only child, Frances Scott Fitzgerald, was born on October 26, 1921 and passed away on June 16, 1986. (wikipedia.org)

Love Letter from F. Scott Fitzgerald to Zelda Sayre
Spring 1919

Sweetheart,

Please, please don't be so depressed -- We'll be married soon, and then these lonesome nights will be over forever -- and until we are, I am loving, loving every tiny minute of the day and night -- Maybe you won't understand this, but sometimes when I miss you most, it's hardest to write -- and you always know when I make myself -- Just the ache of it all -- and I can't tell you. If we were together, you'd feel how strong it is -- you're so sweet when you're melancholy. I love your sad tenderness -- when I've hurt you -- That's one of the reasons I could never be sorry for our quarrels -- and they bothered you so -- Those dear, dear little fusses, when I always tried so hard to make you kiss and forget --

Scott -- there's nothing in all the world I want but you -- and your precious love -- All the material things are nothing. I'd just hate to live a sordid, colorless existence -- because you'd soon love me less -- and less -- and I'd do anything -- anything -- to keep your heart for my own -- I don't want to live -- I want to love first, and live incidentally -- Why don't you feel that I'm waiting -- I'll come to you, Lover, when you're ready -- Don't don't ever think of the things you can't give me -- You've trusted me with the dearest heart of all -- and it's so damn much more than anybody else in all the world has ever had --

How can you think deliberately of life without me -- If you should die -- O Darling -- darling Scott -- It'd be like going blind. I know I would, too, -- I'd have no purpose in life -- just a pretty -- decoration. Don't you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered -- and I was delivered to you -- to be worn -- I want you to wear me, like a watch -- charm or a button hole boquet -- to the world. And then, when we're alone, I want to help -- to know that you can't do anything without me.

I'm glad you wrote Mamma. It was such a nice sincere letter -- and mine to St. Paul was very evasive and rambling. I've never, in all my life, been able to say anything to people older than me -- Somehow I just instinctively avoid personal things with them -- even my family. Kids are so much nicer.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Classic Love Letter: Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet



Gustave Flaubert

Born:                              12 December 1821
                                         Rouen, France
Died:                               8 May 1880 (aged 58)
                                         Rouen, France
Occupation :                 Novelist, playwright
Nationality:                   French
Genres:                          Fictional prose
Literary movement:   Realism, Romanticism


*He is known especially for his published novel, Madame Bovary.


*From 1846 to 1854, Flaubert had a relationship with the poet, Louise Colet; his letters to her survive. According to his biographer Emile Faguet, his affair with Louise Colet was his only serious romantic relationship. Eventually, the end of his affair with Colet led Flaubert to lose interest in romance and seek platonic companionship, particularly with other writers. 

August 15, 1846

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports... When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.





Saturday, August 13, 2011

Classic Love Letter: Elizabeth Barrett Browning to Robert Browning


For the remaining days of the month, I will post love letters written by classical writers. Let's start with this letter from Elizabeth Barrett Browning to Robert Browning written 10 January 1846.


Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Born:                6 March 1806
                          Kelloe, Durham, England
Died:                29 June 1861 (aged 55)
                          Florence, Italy
Occupation:   Poet
Nationality:    English

Dear Robert Browning,

...Do you know, when you have told me to think of you, I have been feeling ashamed of thinking of you so much, of thinking of only you--which is too much, perhaps. Shall I tell you? It seems to me, to myself, that no man was ever before to any woman what you are to me--the fullness must be in proportion, you know, to the vacancy...and only I know what was behind--the long wilderness without blossoming rose...and the capacity for happiness, like a black gaping hole, before this silver flooding. Is it wonderful that I should stand as in a dream, and disbelieve--not you--but my own fate?

Was ever any one taken suddenly from a lampless dungeon and placed upon the pinnacle of a mountain without the head turning round and the heart turning faint, as mine do? And you love me more, you say? Shall I thank you or God? Both, indeed, and there is no possible return from me to either of you! I thank you as the unworthy may...and as we all thank God. How shall I ever prove what my heart is to you? How will you ever see it as I feel it?

Bienvenue!

Welcome to my new lair! :) 


Le Classique (The Classicist) is entirely dedicated to classic art. Here, you will find anything about classical music and literature. Again, this is nothing serious. This is simply for fun! :) 


OLD is better than NEW.