95 - MALLARMÉ, Stéphane (1842–1898).

MALLARMÉ, Stéphane (1842–1898). Autograph letter signed “Stéphane Mallarmé,” Valvins, Monday, September 12, 1892, to Mrs. Marguerite PONSOT; 8 pages, in-12 format, on Holland paper. A beautiful, lengthy letter to the friend who was hosting the Mallarmés in Honfleur. Note: He senses that she is lonely without her son Willy, “with a heavy heart,” and wants to “squeeze her hand.” I also want to tell you that I love him, this brave, simple, honest, and charming boy; and that aside from your occasional frustrations regarding him, there is no cause for concern: his lovely and wholehearted nature will protect him, believe me; and a flaw, which distressed you, will last no longer than a child’s whim—a child who, left to his own devices at an early age and forced to act like a man, exaggerates this attitude for a moment. So do not torment yourself […] I speak with some experience of youth. Now, I’m still thinking about the farewell kiss I was about to give you (less dramatically than Matzen) when the outburst of this Lilith [his cat], who’s watching me write this to you, interrupted everything—I won’t say my gratitude, since one doesn’t thank you; but a few words of deep satisfaction, brought on by my stay in Honfleur. You introduced me to a marvelous spot, rich in scenery and friendship; and to my memories—even though at my age one tends to set aside new ones—you have added an exquisite one, which is already, and forever, intertwined with my very being. Here, in the car, in the seclusion of the house and garden, or by the river—deep down, we’ve remained in Honfleur; and there’s always some memory of a Norman orchard on our lips or in the air. So much so that I didn’t have the heart to write to you; accepting the reality of our distance and placing a letter between us seemed to me like breaking a spell. It took your heartfelt sorrow over Willy’s departure to finally convince me. The ideal situation now would be for you to be here, in your turn, without having to set the table or clear it away. We’d tolerate you removing the stains, and that’s all. My friend Eva would try out the Honfleur-style rigging of the rowboat with me in all kinds of winds—she’d declare it perfect and wouldn’t be afraid; or, sitting next to Vève in the cart, she’d accept me as a groom, back-to-back, and sometimes turning toward her to hear her laughter as well. A dream, but one that follows us almost everywhere. My wife, who is recovering very slowly, thanks to the benefits of the Swiss Chalet, complemented here by a mild September, sends her love to both of you—mother and daughter sitting face to face, chatting about the happy moments they shared this summer.”. Correspondence (ed. B. Marchal), No. 1792.