Ball of Suet: Selected Short Stories by Maupassant

Chapter 2 Balls of Suet (1)
"Ball of Suet" is Maupassant's famous and representative work.The article depicts a French carriage being detained by Prussian officers as it left enemy-occupied territory during the Franco-Prussian War in 1870.The officer must have a prostitute nicknamed Suif Ball in the car stay with him overnight, otherwise he will not be released.Ball of Suet flatly refused out of patriotism, but for the sake of their own self-interest, the distinguished passengers in the car with her forced her to sacrifice herself, and Ball of Suet finally made a concession.When the carriage set off the next morning, those passengers who had begged yesterday suddenly changed their faces, and all of them distanced themselves from her and stopped talking to her.

Through the tragic experience of Ball-of-Fat, this story reflects the ugly and dirty souls under capitalism. Under their hypocritical masks are all rotten internal organs and dirty thoughts.

For several days, in Rouen Rouen is a city in northwestern France, on the north bank of the Seine.In the urban area of ​​the city, there are scattered and scattered defeated soldiers passing through the city.That can't be called a team at all, it can only be regarded as a chaotic mob.These defeated soldiers walked dejectedly, with long and dirty beards on their faces, and their military uniforms were in tatters.There were neither flags nor queues.Anyway, everyone looked depressed, as if they had exhausted the extra energy of these people, they didn't want to use their brains anymore, they couldn't use their brains any more.He just walked forward mechanically, procrastinatingly, as soon as he stopped, he would lose his airs and immediately fall to the ground from exhaustion.

Among these people, the most conspicuous ones are those who were mobilized into the army. They used to live a peaceful life in their hometown and lived on their pensions. back.Of course, the soldiers of the National Rangers are still very clever, sometimes panicked, sometimes impassioned, ready to attack or flee at any time.Among them were some men in red trousers, survivors of a division that had been wiped out in the great battle.In addition, alongside these motley infantry, there are artillerymen in dark uniforms.Now and then a heavy-footed dragoon, wearing a shining helmet, struggled to keep up with the easier-moving infantry.

The next ones to pass through were groups of guerrillas.Their names are extremely heroic and tragic, such as "Grave Citizens Team", "Defeated Vengeance Team", "Watching Death as Home", but now they look like gangs of bandits.

The guerrilla leaders were former businessmen.They bought and sold woolen seeds, fat or soap.After the war broke out, they followed the trend and joined the army as soldiers. Because these people were rich and had mustaches, they looked different from others, so they were appointed as the leaders of the guerrillas.They were clad in flannel uniforms, covered with arms and sash.As long as you speak, you must speak loudly.They often discuss battle plans together, each with a louder voice.No matter what others think, anyway, they themselves think that only their shoulders are supporting the dying France.However, there are also some worries on the other side of their blind arrogance, that is, these "guerrillas" they bring.Most of these people are heinous, often lawless, raping and plundering, and committing all kinds of crimes.

It is said that the Prussians are about to enter Rouen.

For nearly two months the National Guard had been scouting the nearby woods with great care.Even if a little hare runs through the thorn bushes, they will be frightened, always ready to fight, and sometimes they will kill their sentries by mistake, and they will be killed if they are killed.But now, they are all back home.Equipment and clothing, as well as everything they had before, were carried by them around three leagues in France outside the city, and one fare is equivalent to about 1 kilometers.All the weapons used to scare people along the national roads in the area suddenly disappeared.

The last group of French soldiers finally crossed the Seine, passing through the towns of St. Sever and Aschar to the French city of Pont-Audemer, west of Rouen, on the south bank of the Seine, where the French army retreated south.go.A nation of legendary courage, accustomed to victory, should be crushed.The general walked desperately at the back of the line, unable to do anything about these scattered remnants.In fact, the general himself was panic-stricken during the rout, and he walked forward disheartened between two adjutants.

A deep tranquility and a frightening atmosphere of lonely waiting hung over the whole city.Many rich, pot-bellied men, dazzled by the idea of ​​profit, waited sadly for the victor, lest the spit and machete in their kitchen be treated as a weapon.

Everything seemed to have stopped, the shops were closed, and the streets were eerily quiet. Occasionally, some residents hurried past the walls when they went out.

Instead of waiting so anxiously, it is better to let the enemy come quickly.

What should come finally came, on the afternoon of the second day after the French army left, some Lancers in old Prussia appeared from nowhere.A military branch of Austria and other countries.Quickly passed through the city of Rouen.A moment later, a dark mass descended from the slopes of Sainte-Catherine, and at the same time two other groups of Prussian soldiers appeared on the road leading to Darnatal and Bois-Guillaume.The vanguards of these three armies arrived at the Town Hall Square at the same time, and the German troops rushed over from all the nearby streets in groups, and the road surface rattled under the resonance of their heavy and orderly steps.

Someone's voice of command in an unfamiliar guttural voice entered every household, and these houses seemed to be uninhabited, without the slightest response.In fact, behind the closed shutters, pairs of eyes are watching these winners.These men, by the "laws of war," became masters of the city, its life, and its property.

In these seemingly quiet and dark rooms, the residents are actually terrified, as if they have encountered a flood or a strong earthquake. Faced with such a devastating disaster, people have no wisdom or courage. usefulness.For whenever the established order of things is turned upside down, all that is protected by the laws of men, or of nature, is at the mercy of an indiscriminate, savage act.People feel this way when they no longer feel safe.Just as an earthquake crushes an entire nation under crumbling houses, so flooded rivers carry away peasants, the carcasses of domestic animals, and roof beams large and small.An army that prides itself on victory slaughters those who defend it and takes the rest as prisoners, robs in the name of the saber, and gives thanks to God with the sound of cannon.These scourges, so alien to all belief in eternal justice, make it impossible, according to established education, to trust in human reason and providence.

There is a small team knocking on the door of every house. Once the door is opened, it will not come out again.This is the most concrete form of occupation after the invasion.From this begins the obligation of preferential treatment owed by the conquered to the conqueror.

Before long, the initial terror was gone and a new tranquility emerged.In many homes, the Prussian officer ate at the same table as the owner of the house.There are some educated officers among them, who will politely express their sympathy to France and claim to hate this war, but they can't do anything about it.The owner of the house is naturally grateful to him for having such a view, because maybe one day he will need his protection.If these officers are respected, the number of people who are responsible for providing supplies will hopefully be reduced.Now that they have occupied these, why should they still regard themselves as masters?To do that is not bravery, but utter stupidity and recklessness.The citizens of Rouen, who had made the city famous by their heroic defenses, no longer did so, fearing their own rashness and rashness.They believed that, from French etiquette, it was perfectly fine to treat foreign soldiers with courtesy at home, as long as they did not openly show their familiarity.They pretended not to know each other outside during the day, and chatted and drank together at home at night. Therefore, Germans spent longer and longer at each family fireplace every night.

Suffering will not last long, and the city gradually returns to normal.The French still didn't go out much, but Prussian soldiers filled the streets.The officers of the hussars, in their blue uniforms and with sabers slung across the streets, do not seem to disdain ordinary citizens any differently than the officers of the French hussars who drank in these cafés last year.

However, there is an indescribable taste in the seemingly harmonious air, which is so elusive and so real.It was an intolerable foreign atmosphere, the smell everywhere, the smell of aggression.This smell wafted into every house and every public place, and they changed the taste of the food, making the local people feel that they were traveling in a wild and dangerous tribe in a very far away place.

These intruders often ask for money, lots and lots of money.Residents always pay what they want, they are still rich anyway.But even for a wealthy Norman merchant, seeing his fortune trickle into other hands was painful.

Two or three leagues from the city leads to Croisset.On the lower reaches of the rivers of Dieptal or Biessal, from time to time sailors and fishermen brought up the dead body of a German from the bottom.These bloated corpses wrapped in military uniforms.Some were hacked to death, some were tortured to death by punches and kicks, some had their heads smashed to death by stones, and some were thrown from the bridge into the water and drowned directly.The silt of the river buried these obscure acts of vengeance, savage and legal.The unsung hero, the silent attack, is more dangerous than the battle in broad daylight, without the glory of sensationalism.

Because of the hatred for the invaders, it can always inspire three or five daring people to be brave and make them risk their lives for a belief.

Although these raiders controlled the city with a stern discipline, their monstrous deeds along the whole route of victory, though well-known for their appalling deeds, had never been committed in the city.Gradually, people became bolder, and the local businessmen felt itchy again, and they planned to do business again.Several of these merchants, who owned some shares in Le Havre, occupied by the French, attempted to travel overland to Dieppe, and then to that port by ship.

Then, someone took advantage of the influence of acquaintances with German officers to obtain a departure permit issued by the commander-in-chief.

They had booked a large four-horse coach for the trip, and there were ten passengers in all, and they decided to start before dawn on Tuesday morning, in order to avoid being noticed.

It has been colder these days, the ground is frozen hard, and on Monday afternoon, at about three o'clock, a large black cloud blew in from the north, and it snowed for a whole day and night.

At 4:[-] in the morning, the travelers gathered in the courtyard of the Normandy Hotel, ready to board.

These people were all dressed in heavy winter clothes, like some fat priests in robes.They were still terribly sleepy, and some were shivering under blankets.In the dark, we couldn't see who was who.However, two people recognized each other, and another person walked over, and they chatted.

"I'm taking my wife with me," said one.

"I brought it too."

"Me too," continued the first. "We're not going back to Rouen, but if the Germans come near Le Havre, we'll go to England."

In fact, everyone has the same intention, because they are very similar in their bones.

But no one has set up a car.I saw a groom holding a small lamp, coming out of a dark door for a while, and disappearing in another door for a while.The horse's hooves beat the ground, but not loudly, because the stable grass on the ground softened the sound of the horse's hooves.A man's voice could be heard inside the house, directing the beast and cursing.Presently there was a faint tinkling of bells, signaling that a horse was being saddled.This slight sound immediately turned into a crisp and continuous sound.The sound rose and fell with the animal's movements, sometimes silently, and sometimes repeated because of a sudden movement, and at the same time, the hooves of the hoofs kicked the ground with a dull sound.

People were waiting anxiously when the door suddenly closed again.All sounds then disappeared.These freezing citizens fell silent.There they stood motionless, though stiff with cold.

Large flakes of snow fluttered down to the ground, forming a continuous curtain from top to bottom.It hides the appearance of various objects, covering everything with a mirror-like coat.The city is so silent in the winter night, only the rustling sound of falling snowflakes can be heard.It is not so much a sound as it is a feeling. The interlacing movement of dust seems to fill the air and cover the earth.

The lantern-bearer reappeared, holding a horse by the bridle, but the horse would not come out, and looked wretched.The lantern bearer put the horse in front of the shaft and prepared to harness the horse.Since he carried the lamp in one hand, he could only work with one hand.He turned around like this, and it took him a long time to harness the horse.When he was going to lead the second horse, he found that these travelers were all standing there watching him, the damn weather almost turned them into snowmen, so he asked them: "Why don't you go to the car?" Yeah? You can at least hide from the snow there."

None of these people had thought of this before, and they hurried to the car after being reminded by the lantern bearer.The three men settled their wives inside first, and then got into the car one after another.Then, several other vague figures also got into the car and sat down in the remaining seats without any verbal communication with each other.

Some straw was spread on the floor of the carriage, and everyone's feet were stretched in the straw for warmth.The wives in the carriage brought a few small copper stoves for burning chemical charcoal. After sitting down, they lit them up, and then talked, talking about the benefits of this kind of stoves, and talking about some things they had long been familiar with.

After some waiting, the carriage was finally harnessed, but because of the snow and the slippery road, the horses were not four but six.I only heard a voice outside the carriage asking into the carriage: "Is everyone here?" A voice inside the carriage immediately replied: "All here." So the carriage set off like this.

The weather was so bad that the carriage could only move slowly, slowly, it could be said to move forward step by step.The wheels got stuck in the snow, making the whole car moan and rattle.The horse was also walking very hard, slipping on its feet, and "steaming" from its mouth.The coachman's whip was rolled up and stretched out like a thin snake, ringing non-stop, flying around, and lashing the round horse's buttocks from time to time.Every time you hit, you will find that the beaten horse tenses its muscles and pulls hard for a while.

Before I knew it, the sky lit up.One of the travelers, who was of pure Rouen blood, compared the soft snowflakes to a beautiful rain of cotton.Gradually, the snow stopped.A ray of sunlight broke through the big, black, thick clouds, and a white field looked very dazzling in the sunlight.Rows of big trees covered with hoarfrost sometimes appear on the white fields, and sometimes houses covered with snow are exposed.

In the carriage, everyone looked at each other curiously in the dim light of dawn.

Inward, in the best position, the name is pronounced the same as "bird" in Loiseau's French.Monsieur and his wife, the richer wine wholesalers in Bridge Street, sat dozing opposite each other.

Loiseau was a scheming and jovial man.At first he worked as a clerk for a wine boss, but the boss went bankrupt, so he bought the shop and made a fortune.He sold cheap wines to country retailers at very cheap prices, and was considered by those who knew him to be a cunning liar, a true Norman.

Loiseau's reputation as a charlatan was so well known that M. Tournelle, a native fable and ballad writer with a bit of sarcasm, made a little satire at a provincial party when he saw Mrs. When they are a little depressed, I suggest them to play "Flying" and "stealing" in French are the same word, so "Flying" can also be understood as "Loiseau stealing", which is a pun.game.The word quickly spread throughout the party, and then spread to the living rooms of the whole city, making people in the whole province laugh from ear to ear talking about it for a month.

Loiseau is a "celebrity", and because he likes to make all kinds of jokes, he often tells good or malicious jokes, so whoever mentions him will add such a sentence: "Loire Zo-Na is a real gem."

Loiseotta was short and unremarkable, with a big belly, a flushed face, and gray whiskers.

On the contrary, his wife is tall and strong, with a loud voice, quick and quick, firm and decisive.The couple formed a stark contrast.Loiseau enlivened the atmosphere of the store with jovial jokes, while his wife controlled the order of the store with a serious face.

(End of this chapter)