Маргерит Дюрас - The Impudent Ones

One could sense that he was young and agile in his movements, but always ready to indulge in laziness or pleasure. His relaxed attitude and limber body captivated people, drawing them to him. In his face, which reflected a childlike gentleness, his eyes remained alert, curious about everything Mrs. Taneran was telling him. Though intelligent, he had to take the trouble to speak in order for people to judge for themselves; he never forced himself to please others, which is why he managed to do it naturally, and why people around him made an effort to seek out his friendship. He liked to swim in the Dior, to hunt, and to have a roaring good time all night long at Semoic.

“I wounded a rabbit just above your woods this morning,” he said. “It’s the Deddes’ dog that probably got it. In fact, I saw their daughter, who told me something I didn’t know.” He had turned toward Jacques, who, impatient to leave with him, kept getting up from his bench. “You’re planning to move in to Uderan.”

“One of my mother’s ideas, my friend. I just go along with it.” He laughed, but deep down, he was bothered by the way people were astonished when it came to him. His biting tone of voice made it clear that if people were expecting him to settle down, they would be more than disappointed. But George’s tone, simple and natural, calmed his suspicions. Jacques began again, with studied politeness. “The tenant farmhouse is charming, with its steps between every room. It’s more cheerful than here, so that’s where I’ll stay. We’ll be closer to each other.”

“Yes, it’s much nicer,” agreed Mrs. Taneran, “especially because the Deddes will take care of him when we’re away. Have you heard anything about the tenant house, Mr. Durieux?”

“People say it’s very old and has lasted more years than all the homes of The Pardal put together. It was joined to Uderan a long time after its construction. My father could give you all the information you need on it. In fact…”

Jacques got up. “Are you going down to Semoic, Durieux?” Not as tall as George, Jacques was good-looking in a more harmonious way, thanks to his well-proportioned body, even though he was still lacking his beautiful brown sheen of summers gone by.

At Semoic, thought Maud, a following was probably building up around them, fatally. Now, every evening they went down there together, and even though Jacques had proposed this outing to George in an indifferent tone, one felt that nothing would have kept him from it…

A similarity existed between George and her brother, and Maud discerned it from the nuances, the unspoken complicity between them. “You’re going to Semoic?”

George got up from his chair, all the while continuing to talk to Jacques. “I hope that if you make up your mind to spend some money and fix up your tenant farm, it won’t be because of the superstitions flying around. As far as I’m concerned, I’m delighted. I’m here until October every year, and sometimes at Christmas I come back to hunt.”

At last Mrs. Taneran got up and smoothed out her dress with the back of her hand. Maud felt no joy in seeing George, because he remained so indifferent. In her silent confrontation, she employed all the willpower of a woman who has decided to triumph at all costs over a refusal for which she has no explanation. She applied herself to the task without pride. Keeping George from leaving for a few moments, prolonging her torture, attached him to her even more, without his knowing it.

Thus, she made a last attempt to keep the conversation going. “You don’t believe the superstitions spread around by the farmers?” Everyone turned around. Mrs. Taneran smiled.

George took on a mocking tone in addressing her. “Of course not. Why? Do you believe them? People around here claim, anyway, that you have no fear.”

Jacques grabbed George by the arm. “It’s because she always sleeps here alone, so she’ll get noticed. She gets even more credit because these frightening tales are flying around. Do you understand?”

George looked at the ground like someone who is remembering something, and broke into laughter. “That reminds me of a ridiculous story I’ll tell you someday.”

Maud tried one last time to grab the interest of the young men. “But who says, who says that I’m not afraid?”

“Don’t mind her, Mr. Durieux. She’s both nervous and shy…” The two women accompanied the visitor down to the gate.

The second train whistled. A car flew by the property on the way to Semoic. While they were expressing their astonishment and wondering who the crazy driver was, Maud identified him as Henry’s friend Terry. Jacques, who refrained from uttering an insult out of respect for George, whom he didn’t know well enough yet, pointed out that the car could have stopped to pick them up, knowing they were going down to Semoic.

They left. While Mrs. Taneran closed up the house, Maud stretched out on the grass surrounding a bush of wild roses, suddenly worn out by such a long wait.

The afternoon was coming to an end. No more sounds came from the valley except, occasionally, the loud calls of the Deddes’ daughter, who took the cows down to drink in the ponds of the Dior meadow when those on the plateau were dried up.

The birds were putting down for the night; they filled the grounds with their cries, mellow with tiredness. Mrs. Taner-an reappeared. “Did you say, Maud, that your brother Henry left with Terry? I’m afraid of an accident. Do you know why they all go to Semoic?”

Maud didn’t know. Mrs. Taneran once again slowed down the moment of departure, walking along the short, broad paths that wound around the grounds. In the evening at Uderan, the slightest sound impressed her, whether a footstep on the road or the echo of an oar on the Dior. “What’s that? Listen, Maud…” As they listened, everything seemed inhabited with strange sounds, especially the empty house.

Soon the roses became purple, and a color like that of blood began to rise around the clumps of trees. “It’s strange, as soon as evening comes, I wouldn’t stay here for anything in the world,” said the mother. “It’s true you have courage, Maud!”

Oh, what did these words matter, because George was no longer there…? Maud felt that if George got along so well with her brother, it was because they resembled each other in a certain aspect of their nature. The same fundamental laziness and their penchant for pleasure drew them together.

Finally Mrs. Taneran joined up with Maud on the side of the hill, near the flowers. “What’s the matter? Are you sick? Let’s get going. I’m not saying that I enjoy going back to the Pecresses’; we should never have moved in there. But now it’s too late to leave there and too soon to come back. Your brothers are making the most of being in the countryside.”

She wanted to share her sacrifice with her daughter, in order to show her affection. Since the life of the family no longer weighed her down as much, she suffered from being neglected by her children…

One evening when they were together, loud knocks at the entrance gate on the side of the vegetable garden startled them. Soon the knocking was so forceful they felt afraid. Without answering, they descended the side of the hill toward the metal gate. But when they opened it, the voice of Mrs. Pecresse, sugary and familiar, calmed them down. “I thought you were at the tenant farm. I came looking for you to talk a bit on the way home.” In a few seconds Mrs. Taneran got over her fear, and turning toward her daughter with her usual authority, she ordered, “Go home by the main road, and above all don’t worry.”

Boredom reigned at Uderan—dense and oppressive. In order not to slow down their arrival at the Barque Inn in Semoic, Jacques Grant preferred to meet George Durieux midway between the village and the property. For this reason the latter came to Uderan less and less frequently. The last time had been two weeks earlier, and it was on this occasion that he seemed to be interested in Maud.