5 In 1807, Napoleon decided to create a new Imperial nobility in order to create loyalty and to aggrandize his Empire.
Chapter One: Country Pleasures
This dark political dialogue astonished Julien, disrupting his voluptuous daydreams. He paid little attention to the first view of Paris, seen in the distance. Constructing castles in the air had been warring against lingering, still palpable memories of the twenty-four hours just spent in Verrières. He silently swore never to abandon his beloved's children; he'd leave everything in order to protect them, should priestly arrogance ever bring on a republic and persecution of the aristocracy. What would have happened, the night he came to Verrières, had he leaned his ladder against the casement of Madame de Rênal's bedroom window, and found the room occupied by a stranger—or by Monsieur de Rênal? But then, those delightful first two hours, when his beloved honestly wanted to send him away, and he'd argued for his cause, sitting next to her in the darkness! A soul like Julien's remains wrapped in such memories: they last a lifetime. All the rest of the encounter had already been blended into thoughts of this love's early stages, fourteen months before. Julien was awakened from these deep daydreams: the carriage had stopped. They had just entered the mail-coach yard, on J.J. Rousseau Street. "I'd like to go to Malmaison,"6 he told a cabdriver who approached him. "At this hour, sir? Why?" "None of your business! Go." Real passion always thinks of nothing but itself. This is why, it seems to me, passions are so ridiculous in Paris, where your neighbor acts as if you're always deeply attentive to him. I'll spare you a description of Julien's ecstasies at Malmaison, where Napoleon had held court. He wept. (What! In spite of the ugly white walls, just recently put up, chopping the whole property into tiny morsels? Yes, my dear reader: for Julien, as for posterity, the Battle of Arcola and Saint Helena7 and Malmaison were as good as one and the same.) That evening, Julien hesitated a long time before allowing himself to go to the theater: he had strange notions about these hellish places. Deep mistrust kept him from admiring Paris as he now saw it; the monuments left by his heroes were all that moved him. "Here I am, in the very center of scheming and hypocrisy! This is where Father de Frilair's patrons exercise their power." The third evening, curiosity obliged him to give up his plan of seeing everything before presenting himself to Father Pirard. The priest explained, his manner distant, what sort of life he should expect to lead, employed by Monsieur de La Mole. "After a few months, if you've not proven useful, you'll go back to the seminary, but through the front door. You'll be living at the marquis's house: he is one of France's greatest noblemen. You will wear black, but as a man does when he's in mourning, not like an ecclesiastic. I will require you, three times a week, to continue your theological studies, at a seminary to which I will present you. Every day, at noon, you will be in the marquis's library, where your employer intends to have you write whatever letters are necessary for his lawsuits and his other business. The marquis will make a brief notation, on each letter he receives, as to the sort of response required. I have assured him that, after three months, you will be prepared