old man goriot

Chapter 3 Civilian Apartments (2)
Above the fourth floor, there is an attic for drying clothes, and two small rooms, where Christopher, the rough-handed man, and Sylvie, the fat cook, live respectively.In addition to the seven staying guests, Mrs. Vauquer, in good or bad times, has eight law and medical students, and two or three regular guests who live nearby, and they only provide dinner.When dinner is held in the dining room, eighteen people can be seated, and a maximum of twenty people can be seated.But there were only seven tenants in the morning, and the scene of getting together at lunch was quite like a family.Everyone went downstairs in their slippers, discussing privately about the clothes, demeanor, and the affairs of the overnight guests, and they had no scruples about what they said.These seven tenants are Madame Vauquer's favourites. She treats each of them according to the amount of board and lodging they pay, just like an astronomer.These people who met by chance had the same consideration in their hearts.The two tenants on the third floor only pay 72 francs a month.Madame Couture is the only exception to such a cheap price, which can only be found in the area between the abbey and the asylum in the Saint-Marcel district.The cheapness of the price indicated that these tenants were probably oppressed by poverty, both openly and covertly.So the shabby look of the house's interior is reflected in the shabby clothes of the regulars.The color of the dress that the man wears can no longer be told, the shoes look like they were thrown in a corner in a wealthy area, the shirt is almost worn out, and the clothes are in name only.The women wore frayed, dyed and faded dresses, old lace that had been mended, gloves that shone from use, crepe collars that were yellowing, and turbans that were loose in warp and weft.In spite of the clothes, almost all the men were strong and strong, having weathered the storms of life; their faces were grim and blurred like coins out of circulation.The lips are shriveled, but with greedy teeth.These guests in the apartment reminded one of plays that had been performed or were being performed, not the kind of plays performed before the footlights, between sets, but alive, silent, cold, but stirring people's hearts, continuous Constant drama.

Old Mademoiselle Michno, with a green taffeta shade over her tired eyes, bound by a brass wire, was so dirty that it would have startled the Angel of Mercy.The shawl with scattered tassels like tears seems to be covered with a pair of dry bones, and the body hidden inside is so bony.What is it that makes this woman so fragile?She must have been beautiful back then.Is it ridiculous, sad, or greedy?Is it because I fell in love too deeply, sold cosmetics and clothes, or just worked as a fireworks girl?Could it be that when she was young, she was triumphant, invincible, and enjoyed all the joys, so that when she was old, she would be rewarded and passers-by were afraid to avoid it?Her eyes were frozen, making people feel cold, and her face was haggard and hideous.Her voice was very high-pitched, like cicadas singing in the bushes when winter was approaching.She claimed to have served an old man suffering from cystitis, but was abandoned by her children who thought her life was exhausted.The old man left her a life annuity of a thousand francs; every once in a while the heir quarreled with her and spoke ill of her.Although lust had ruined her face, there were still some traces of fairness and tenderness on her skin, which showed that there were still some traces of beauty on her body.

M. Poiret was nothing short of a machine.He walked along the botanical garden path, like a stretching gray ghost; wearing a listless old peaked cap on his head, holding a walking stick with a yellowed ivory handle with difficulty, and a faded coat with a flap. His trousers were lifted, revealing almost empty trousers; his legs in blue stockings trembled like a drunk; The tie doesn't quite match.Seeing his appearance, many people wondered whether this shadow puppet-like monster and the descendants of Japheth[10] walking on the streets of Italy belonged to the same bloody race.What job was it that shriveled him up like this?What kind of lust turned his onion face into a dark brown?That face was drawn as a caricature, it was hardly real.What has he done?Maybe he worked as a staff member of the Ministry of Justice. In the office, he managed the bills and bills of materials sent by the executioner. The items on the list included the black gauze used by the murderer in the execution of the criminal, the sawdust used to pad the cage, and the rope used to hang the machete.Perhaps he had been a tax-collector at the entrance to a slaughterhouse, or a sub-inspector of sanitation.In short, this man seems to have been a donkey in the great mill of our society, a Parisian Ladon[11] who, although he took the chestnuts out of the fire, did not know who was Bertrand who enjoyed it; of a hub.In short, he is such a kind of person, when we meet, we will say: After all, we cannot live without such a person.They were tormented by mental and physical pain, which Parisian high society knew nothing about.Paris is really a vast ocean, even if you throw a sea hammer, you will never know how deep it is.You go explore and describe.No matter how hard you explore and describe, no matter how many and enthusiastic ocean explorers are, there are always untouched places, unknown caves, flowers and pearls, ghosts and ghosts in this ocean, which some literary divers have never heard of. , Forget about neglected things.The Vogue apartment is one of these strange things.

Among the group of tenants and meal-packing guests, there were two faces that stood out from the crowd.Miss Vidoline Taifan's skin is pale and obviously sick, like a girl suffering from chlorosis; her frowning, awkward manner and lonely appearance all day long match the tone of the whole sad picture here.Even so, her face is not old after all, and her movements and voice are still brisk.The unfortunate girl is like a young tree that has just been transplanted, and the leaves have withered due to unacceptable water and soil.Her face was flushed, her hair was auburn, and her figure was exceptionally slender, with that beauty that modern poets find in medieval statuettes.Her eyes were gray and dark, with a Christian meekness and obedience.Plain and economical clothes outline a youthful figure.Her beauty lies in her symmetry.If you have a taste of happiness, she must be very moving: happiness is a woman's poem, just like clothing is their makeup.If the joy of the ball had tinged this pale face with a rosy tinge, if life of sophistication and comfort had filled and flushed her sunken cheeks, if love had brought back the brilliance to those melancholy eyes, Doreen can compete with the most beautiful girls.She lacks only what makes a woman young again: clothes and love letters.Her story could fill a book.Her father thought he had reason to disown her as a daughter, and would not keep her with him, gave her only six hundred francs a year, and rigged the property so that it would all pass to his son.Vidoline's mother defected to Mrs. Courtier, a distant relative, and died there in despair.Mrs. Coutier raised the orphan as her own.Unfortunately, the widow of the quartermaster of the Republic has nothing but her husband's advances and pensions; she may one day leave this poor ignorant and penniless girl at the mercy of society.The kind woman took Vidoline to Mass every Sunday, and went to confession every fortnight to see if she could become a pious girl.She was right to think.With religious feelings, this abandoned girl will also have a way out in the future.She loves her father, and goes to her father every year to bring his mother's forgiveness to him; but every year, she is rejected by her ruthless father.The only one who can mediate is her elder brother, and he never came to see her once in the four years he was an elder brother, nor did he give her any help.She prayed to God to open her father's eyes and soften her brother's heart; instead of complaining to them, she prayed for them.Madame Couture and Madame Vauquer resented that there were not enough curse words in the dictionary to describe this barbarity.When they cursed the bastard millionaire, Vitorine murmured, like a wounded wild pigeon, groaning with love in pain.

Eugene de Rastigne had a typical southern face, fair skin, black hair, and blue eyes.His demeanor and habitual posture all show that he is a son of aristocratic family; from elementary school, he has been elegant and traditional.He cherishes his clothes, and usually wears old clothes from the next year, but sometimes he can dress like a handsome young man when he goes out.On a daily basis, he wears an old coat, a rough waistcoat, and a crappy old black tie that is sloppily tied, like ordinary college students; the trousers are similar to the jacket, and the boots have been replaced.

Between these two characters and the others, there is a transitional character, Vautrin, who is forty years old and has dyed sideburns.He was one of those guys who would say "Good guy!" to anyone who saw him; broad shoulders, strong chest, protruding muscles, very thick square hands, and thick fiery red hair on the knuckles, which was very conspicuous.His face was prematurely wrinkled, and he looked a little grim, but he was easy-going and easy-going.His mid-bass voice was in perfect harmony with his jovial disposition, and it wasn't annoying at all.He is helpful and laughing.If any lock was broken, he would immediately take it out, fix it, oil it, file it, and put it back on, saying, "I'm good at that." Besides, he knew everything, ships, seas, France. , Foreign countries, business, people, current affairs, law, hotels and prisons, know everything.If someone sighed too much, he hurried to help.He had lent money to Madame Vauquer and several tenants several times, but the person who lent him the money would rather die than blame him, because although he looked like a good man, his eyes were deep and firm, which was daunting.From the way he spits, it can be seen that he is calm and calm, and if he wants to jump out of the predicament, he will definitely take a risk.His gaze is like a majestic judge, who seems to be able to see through all suspense, all thoughts, and all emotions.He used to go out after lunch, come back for dinner, stay out all night, come back in the middle of the night, and open the door with the master key that Madame Vauquer gave him.Only he enjoys this privilege.Moreover, he got along very well with the widow, and he put his arms around her waist and called her mother. This kind of flattery is really puzzling!The woman thought it was just a matter of raising her hands, but she didn't know that only Vautrin had such a long arm that could hug her thick waist.Another characteristic of him is that he pays fifteen francs a month generously, so that he can drink a cup of coffee with wine after dinner.It is true that the young people were entangled in the vortex of Parisian life, and the old people were indifferent, but even people who were not as superficial as they were would not have noticed that Vautrin was acting suspiciously.He knows or guesses everything about other people around him; but no one can see through what he is thinking and doing.He is kind to others in the open, always polite and happy, but secretly he regards these as a barrier between himself and others;He often uttered a Juvenalian quip, seemed keen to mock the law, scourged society, accused it of contradicting itself, and gave the impression that he hated the status quo and carefully Hiding something secret.

This middle-aged man in his forties, and the young college student, one is energetic and the other is handsome; Miss Taifan may be attracted by the two unintentionally, her secret glances and private thoughts are always Can't live without these two.But these two, none of them seem to have her in their heart, although maybe one day, she will turn around and become a wealthy marriage partner.Besides, none of these people bothered to find out whether the sufferings reported by others were true or not.They are indifferent to each other, and because of their different situations, they don't trust each other.They know that they are powerless to relieve each other's pain, and usually complain to each other over and over again, and they have already exhausted their words of comfort; they are like an old married couple with nothing to say.The relationship between them is only a mechanical life, just like unoiled gears, which bite and rotate there.When they meet a blind person on the street, they pass by without paying any attention to them, and when they hear of bad luck, they are unmoved, and they regard death as a release from suffering; The tragic scene is also viewed with cold eyes.Among this group of frustrated people, the happiest is Madame Vauquer, who presides over this private workhouse from aloof.Only Mrs. Vauquer felt that the small garden was a beautiful garden. In fact, the silence and cold, dryness and humidity made the garden look empty and vast, like a vast wasteland.She was the only one who found all the pleasures in this yellow, dreary house, reeking of copper counters.This cell is hers.She feeds this group of prisoners who have been doing hard labor for life, bosses them around, and they are obedient one by one.At the price she set, where in Paris could these poor people find such hygienic and plentiful food, and a house that they could arrange themselves, though not elegant and comfortable, at least clean and hygienic?Even if she was extremely unfair, she would just accept it, without any further words.

Collectively, these people, all kinds of people, are, and indeed are, a microcosm of society as a whole.Like in high school and in social circles, among the eighteen people who eat together, there is always a poor doormat, a punching bag, and everyone makes fun of him.By the beginning of the second year, Eugene de Rastignac found this doormat prominent among the group of people with whom he was destined to live for another two years.This doormat is the old man Goriot who used to make noodles. If someone came to draw a picture, he would definitely focus all the light of the picture on his head like a historian.Contempt half-hateful, bullying mixed with contempt, relentless attitude towards suffering, why should they all be poured out on this oldest tenant?Was there something ridiculous or queer about him, more unforgivable than a vice?Such problems are closely related to various social injustices.Perhaps human nature is like this. If a person is really humble, cowardly, or indifferent, others will let him suffer.Don't we all like to sacrifice someone or something to prove our strength?The weakest people, such as children, will also ring the doorbells of various houses when the weather is freezing; or stand on tiptoe to write their names on clean monumental buildings.

(End of this chapter)