Cities of the Plain: Part II Chapter II (23rd post)

 The second chapter of Cities of the Plain sees the development of Marcel's relationship with Albertine, the commencement of the amorous entanglement of Charlus and the fiancé of Jupien's niece, and the reappearance of the Verdurins.

We have already observed Marcel's duplicitous approach to relationships when he feigned indifference to Albertine and a preference for Andrée (see my 17^th post). Despite his now having grown closer to Albertine, he is still acting in the same manner, and has added suspicion and jealousy to this unhealthy romance. It is hard for the reader to judge the validity of Marcel's suspicions that Albertine is lying and cheating on him because we are only presented with his thought processes, not hers; he is not honest with her and is maybe not being honest in his narration; his distrust is largely the result of inferences rather than direct evidence; and the suspicions are so recurrent as to suggest he is suffering from a paranoid personality disorder. At times his conclusions are closely reasoned, but even then there is often an underlying illogicality. For instance, if Marcel finds a discrepancy between Albertine's present and past statements on the same subject, he concludes one of them was a lie, without considering the reliability of his or her memory, or the possibility that she had simply made an error. A falsity would only become a lie if she knew what she was saying were not true. On the other hand, maybe she is lying and cheating – we simply don't know for sure.

Additionally, Marcel's feelings for Albertine are in a state of continual flux. Still suffering from his delayed reaction to his grandmother's death (see my 22^nd post), he informs us at the beginning of Chapter II that he is incapable of feeling any physical desire for Albertine and, whilst his affection for her has grown, he does not want to see her (p.256 VII Scott Moncrieff, pp.810-811 II Kilmartin). But then, just a sentence later, he announces that his physical desire has revived and he longs for her to come. These abrupt reversals are characteristic of Marcel's feelings for Albertine and continue throughout the next part of the novel, The Captive. On this occasion there appears to be no cause for the sudden change, but such fluctuations are nearly always caused by the suspicions and jealousy mentioned above. One might think that the causal relationship would be obvious: as Marcel suspects Albertine is lying and cheating, his ardour cools. In fact, it is the opposite: his suspicions have the effect of increasing his love because, as we recall in the cases of his love for Gilberte, the little band and the Duchesse de Guermantes, love is suffering (see my 12^th, 16^th and 18^th posts).

Part I of Cities of the Plain relates particularly to Sodom and introduces the theme of homosexuality, starting with the account of Charlus and Jupien's encounter. Part II Chapter II focuses on Gomorrah and the theme of lesbianism. Marcel is obsessed with the idea that Albertine has had or is having affairs with other women such as her friend Andrée, the actress Léa and the ever-nameless friend of Mlle Vinteuil.

Dancing Women
by Raphael Kirchner

This “cruel mistrust began to take solid form” at Balbec. The Verdurins have rented a nearby villa, La Raspelière, from the Cambremers for the summer, and the little clan meet there. One day Marcel runs across one of its members, Dr Cottard, at Incarville, a town not far from Balbec, and they repair to the casino, where Albertine had gone with her friends. While they are there, Cottard watches Albertine dancing a waltz with Andrée and comments to Marcel that the girls have become aroused by their breasts touching (pp.272-273 VII SM, pp.822-823 II TK). This begins Marcel's “painful and perpetual mistrust” of Albertine's Gomorrhan character (p.261 VII SM, p.815 II TK). Although he did not agree with Cottard, ever since that day Albertine seemed different to Marcel and sometimes the sight of her “made me lose my temper [...] I had ceased to bear her any good will; to her face, behind her back when there was a chance of my words being repeated to her, I spoke of her in the most insulting language”. One day, when he suspects her of seeing someone else, they quarrel until she dashes from his room, crying: “Goodbye for ever” in a heart-broken tone (pp.277-282 VII SM, pp.826-830 II TK). His distrustful behaviour verges on sadism, as we see on an occasion a little later when he records: “In [Albertine's] eyes there lingered, brought there by the cruel things I had just been saying to her, a pair of tears which I observed without seeming to see them, but not without rejoicing inwardly at the sight” (p.287 VII SM, p.834 II TK).

Another spat follows, after which Marcel wonders whether his “harsh treatment of her [had] been merely an unconscious ruse on my part, with the object of bringing my mistress to that attitude of fear and supplication which would enable me to interrogate her”. He now tries another ruse, by falsely confessing his “passionate admiration” of Andrée. “I made her this confession with a simplicity and frankness worthy of the stage, but seldom employed in real life except for a love which people do not feel. Harking back to the fiction I had employed with Gilberte before my first visit to Balbec, but adapting its terms, I went so far (in order to make her more ready to believe me when I told her now that I was not in love with her) as to let fall the admission that at one time I had been on the point of falling in love with her, but that too long an interval had elapsed, that she could be nothing more to me now than a good friend”. He feels that, by dissembling thus, he is merely according with the “dual rhythm” of love which is adopted by those who, not being certain of their relationship with a woman, first declare to her their affection and, secondly, out of fear and shame, deny such affection in order that they can then “resume the offensive […] to recapture her esteem, to dominate her” (pp.317-319 VII SM, pp.857-858 II TK). This means and end are not only unpleasant, they are usually ineffective, as Marcel ought to know by now. “This avowal to Albertine of an imaginary sentiment for Andrée, and, towards herself, an indifference which, that it might appear altogether sincere and without exaggeration, I assured her incidentally, as though by a scruple of politeness, must not be taken too literally, enabled me at length, without any fear of Albertine’s suspecting me of loving her, to speak to her with a tenderness which I had so long denied myself and which seemed to me exquisite.” He follows up with another deception: he tells Albertine that someone has informed him that she and Andrée have a lesbian relationship. However, when she assures him that they do not, he calms down and they are reconciled, he assuring her that he will not be horrid to her again (pp.321-326 VII SM, pp.859-863 II TK).

However, Marcel's suspicions never go away and his fear that Albertine should happen to meet a lesbian is so great that it leads him to absurd behaviour. When the season at Balbec starts to get into full swing, he begins noticing that there are lots of girls on the beach, and to prevent Albertine getting to know any, he proposes to her “the most distant excursions” (pp.334-335 VII SM, pp.869-870 II TK). A particular concern arises in the following way: Robert Saint-Loup, having earlier proposed that Marcel should try to seduce Mme Stermaria (see my 21^st post on The Guermantes Way), has more recently suggested Mme Putbus's maid as also being of easy virtue (p.131 VII SM, p.719 II TK). When Marcel now remembers that Baroness Putbus is expected by the Verdurins at La Raspelière, he worries that the maid might visit Balbec, meet Albertine on the beach and, if he were not there, seek to corrupt her (p.335 VII SM, p.870 II TK). He therefore decides to visit the Verdurins by himself to establish whether and, if so, when the maid might visit Balbec, in order that he can ensure Albertine is not there that day (pp.3-4 VIII SM, pp.884-885 II TK). Whilst Marcel's conduct is manipulative, there is a comic undertone to it: anyone having such fears would dismiss them as crazy, but not only does Marcel not banish them, he acts upon them, as if by the compelling logic of a farce.

Meanwhile, Charlus, like Swann before him, is drawn into the Verdurins' circle in pursuit of his latest flame, the young violinist Charles Morel, a protégé of Mme Verdurin. Morel happens to be the son of the former valet of Marcel's great-uncle Adolphe, and is also the fiancé of the niece of Jupien, Charlus' homosexual partner. We observe the developing relationship between Charlus and Morel through Marcel's eyes. The liaison starts when Marcel is with Albertine at Doncières station waiting for the train back to Balbec. He bumps into Charlus, who is waiting for the train to Paris. The latter is wearing “a light travelling suit which made him appear stouter, as he swaggered through the room, balancing a pursy stomach and an almost symbolical behind; the cruel light of day broke up into paint, upon his lips, rice-powder fixed by cold cream, on the tip of his nose, black upon his dyed moustaches whose ebon tint formed a contrast to his grizzled hair, all that by artificial light had seemed the animated colouring of a man who was still young”. Charlus spots a soldier in the regalia of a military band on the platform, who he pretends is a relative, and asks Marcel to go across and request him to join them. When Marcel approaches the soldier, he realises it is Morel, whom he already knows through his great-uncle, and they converse. Meanwhile, Charlus having grown impatient comes across and, forgetting his intention to go to Paris and his pretence of being related, offers the soldier money to provide him with musical entertainment that evening (pp.10-12 VIII SM, pp.889-891 II TK). We next meet Morel and Charlus when they arrive at a Verdurin musical gathering. Charlus, aware that one must “when dealing with people of humble rank, bring into play and make use of one’s rarest graces”, abandons his habitual attitude of virility and frigidity, and adopts a ladylike manner when introduced to Mme Verdurin - “so prominent at that moment was the woman whom a mistake on the part of Nature had enshrined in the body of M de Charlus” (pp.73-75 VIII SM, pp.937-938 II TK). And by the end of the musical performance, we have learnt that he is not only “an exquisite pianist” but also “an amateur painter who was not devoid of taste” (p.137 VIII SM, pp.985-986 II TK). Thus, Proust's portrait of Charlus has further evolved: he is overweight, vain in his attempts to disguise his senescence with cosmetics, mendacious, effeminate and artistic. The depiction is now fuller than when Marcel had first encountered him near the casino at Balbec (see my 15^th post). The characterisation will deepen further as his affair with Morel progresses in the following chapter.