say to any Frenchman or Frenchwoman who complained of anything, I said but every time I go out in the village of Bilignin there I see all your young men whatever is happening they are still there and that is everything that they are not gone. But now they are gone and going. Some of them betake themselves to the mountains others are conspiring, the son of our dentist a boy of eighteen has just been taken because he was helping and will he be shot or not. Oh dear. We all cry. But there is nothing to do but wait for us to come nothing to do. And they look so, I saw a train full of them, everybody was handing them up wine and bread, although nobody has much of it for themselves or to give them, and there they were with the gendarmes, going away. And they were awake then and pretty soonthey will be tired out and go to sleep any way that it is possible to be sleeping, in a chair or standing or in any way.
It is funny but my memory of those middle-western boys going out to the Philippines was that they were just like these French boys twenty and twenty-one going off to Germany, as deported and held away from every one. Dear me.
So that was realism. Anything is realism but that certainly was realism.
And it all made me remember the impression I have when I read Wyandotte or The Hutted Knoll which was about then, the shock I had in reading that book because for the first time I realised what it meant not to know whether any one was loyal to you or not, did they or did they not believe in you, were they interested in your interests and how can you tell. I had read laments of great men and many novels but in some strange way Wyandotte or The Hutted Knoll made me understand that you could think that some one was devoted to you and loyal to you and really not at all they were opposed to you and would if such a thing were necessary denounce you. And now and again in June 1943 it is happening all around one.
Well in the first place Olympe who knows who her enemies are, and are they, could they become another thing or rather could those to whom she was loyal could she stop being loyal to them, could she want so much not to leave you and when she really did have it to leave you did she at the last hour turn against you so as to prepare her mind to be attuned to the other to whom she was going. Could she and did she. She did. Might she and would she denounce the first one the second one or any one or would she only prepare herself in case she had to do something and it might be that something and would any one she was leaving realise that she had not been very serviceable in fact that she had been rather useless although everything made any one think that she was perfection and almost saintly as a character. Dear me. It is like a detective story particularly as her sister Clothilde used a cheap enemy perfume to drown out the smell of onions and cooking onher and does it came to be known that she slept in her mistress’ room. Dear me dear me.
How many mirrors there can be in a house when all the doors and the doors are many and very wide and tall are filled with mirrors and what a pleasure to see one’s self in them. Expectedly and unexpectedly what a pleasure.
And now in June 1943 something very strange is happening, every day the feeling is strengthening that one or another has been or will be a traitor to something and what do they do they send them a little wooden coffin sometimes with a letter inside sometimes with a rope inside to tell them to hang themselves, and sometimes it is sent by post or by railroad and sometimes it is hung up in a tree and sometimes hung up in front of the front door. Oh dear me. When this you see remember me is what they mean because some of these people have told where young men of twenty-one were hidden, and it was not necessary to tell they just did tell and so somebody sent them a small wooden coffin. Of course they had to find a reliable carpenter to make the coffins but they did find him.
So the
It is funny but my memory of those middle-western boys going out to the Philippines was that they were just like these French boys twenty and twenty-one going off to Germany, as deported and held away from every one. Dear me.
So that was realism. Anything is realism but that certainly was realism.
And it all made me remember the impression I have when I read Wyandotte or The Hutted Knoll which was about then, the shock I had in reading that book because for the first time I realised what it meant not to know whether any one was loyal to you or not, did they or did they not believe in you, were they interested in your interests and how can you tell. I had read laments of great men and many novels but in some strange way Wyandotte or The Hutted Knoll made me understand that you could think that some one was devoted to you and loyal to you and really not at all they were opposed to you and would if such a thing were necessary denounce you. And now and again in June 1943 it is happening all around one.
Well in the first place Olympe who knows who her enemies are, and are they, could they become another thing or rather could those to whom she was loyal could she stop being loyal to them, could she want so much not to leave you and when she really did have it to leave you did she at the last hour turn against you so as to prepare her mind to be attuned to the other to whom she was going. Could she and did she. She did. Might she and would she denounce the first one the second one or any one or would she only prepare herself in case she had to do something and it might be that something and would any one she was leaving realise that she had not been very serviceable in fact that she had been rather useless although everything made any one think that she was perfection and almost saintly as a character. Dear me. It is like a detective story particularly as her sister Clothilde used a cheap enemy perfume to drown out the smell of onions and cooking onher and does it came to be known that she slept in her mistress’ room. Dear me dear me.
How many mirrors there can be in a house when all the doors and the doors are many and very wide and tall are filled with mirrors and what a pleasure to see one’s self in them. Expectedly and unexpectedly what a pleasure.
And now in June 1943 something very strange is happening, every day the feeling is strengthening that one or another has been or will be a traitor to something and what do they do they send them a little wooden coffin sometimes with a letter inside sometimes with a rope inside to tell them to hang themselves, and sometimes it is sent by post or by railroad and sometimes it is hung up in a tree and sometimes hung up in front of the front door. Oh dear me. When this you see remember me is what they mean because some of these people have told where young men of twenty-one were hidden, and it was not necessary to tell they just did tell and so somebody sent them a small wooden coffin. Of course they had to find a reliable carpenter to make the coffins but they did find him.
So the
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