feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/shmoop/The Red and the Black/section_18_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: The Red and the Black.part 1.chapter 19
feat_summary_id: part 1, chapter 19
feat_summary: {"name": "Part 1, Chapter 19", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20200920104425/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/red-and-the-black/summary/part-1-chapter-19", "summary": "When the king's visit is over, Julien hangs around the room that the Marquis de La Mole stayed in. He finds a piece of folded paper that contains a note written by a guy to the Marquis who wants a government post that's about to open up. In the coming week, one of the biggest points of gossip in town is how Julien was allowed to ride with the Honor Guard. Even people who usually preach equality are furious with a carpenter's son being honored in this way. People suspect that Madame de Renal put in a good word for him because he's handsome. Soon afterward, Madame de Renal's son falls ill with a fever. She thinks that God is punishing her for having an affair with Julien. She tells Julien that she's going to spill her guts to her husband. Julien tells her not to. One day, Madame falls to her knees and tries to tell her husband that their son's illness is all her fault. But he thinks she's just being crazy and won't listen to her. Julien thinks about going away for a while. But he knows that Madame will tell her husband everything if he leaves. Julien has a long talk with Madame that ends with them both crying and swearing to stop their affair. Eventually, Madame's son regains his health. Madame's remorse stays strong though, now that she's accepted the sinfulness of what she's done. The servant Elisa becomes so frustrated that she one day goes into town and tells Monsieur de Renal's rival, Valenod, that Madame is sleeping with Julien Sorel. It's not clear whether she knows this for sure or is just talking out of suspicion. The news hurts Valenod's pride, since he has been trying to sleep with Madame de Renal for years. Next thing you know, Julien sees Monsieur de Renal reading an anonymous letter explaining everything going on between his wife and Julien. The man's face darkens as he reads.", "analysis": ""}
text: CHAPTER XIX
  
  THINKING PRODUCES SUFFERING
  
  
      The grotesqueness of every-day events conceals the real
             unhappiness of the passions.--_Barnave_.
  
  As he was replacing the usual furniture in the room which M. de la
  Mole had occupied, Julien found a piece of very strong paper folded in
  four. He read at the bottom of the first page "To His Excellency M.
  le Marquis de la Mole, peer of France, Chevalier of the Orders of the
  King, etc. etc." It was a petition in the rough hand-writing of a cook.
  
          "Monsieur le Marquis, I have had religious principles
          all my life. I was in Lyons exposed to the bombs at
          the time of the siege, in '93 of execrable memory. I
          communicate, I go to Mass every Sunday in the parochial
          church. I have never missed the paschal duty, even in
          '93 of execrable memory. My cook used to keep servants
          before the revolution, my cook fasts on Fridays. I am
          universally respected in Verrieres, and I venture to
          say I deserve to be so. I walk under the canopy in the
          processions at the side of the cure and of the mayor. On
          great occasions I carry a big candle, bought at my own
          expense.
  
          "I ask Monsieur the marquis for the lottery appointment
          of Verrieres, which in one way or another is bound to
          be vacant shortly as the beneficiary is very ill, and
          moreover votes on the wrong side at elections, etc. De
          Cholin."
  
  In the margin of this petition was a recommendation signed "de Moirod"
  which began with this line, "I have had the honour, the worthy person
  who makes this request."
  
  "So even that imbecile de Cholin shows me the way to go about things,"
  said Julien to himself.
  
  Eight days after the passage of the King of ---- through Verrieres,
  the one question which predominated over the innumerable falsehoods,
  foolish conjectures, and ridiculous discussions, etc., etc., which had
  had successively for their object the king, the Marquis de la Mole,
  the ten thousand bottles of wine, the fall of poor de Moirod, who,
  hoping to win a cross, only left his room a week after his fall, was
  the absolute indecency of having _foisted_ Julien Sorel, a carpenter's
  son, into the Guard of Honour. You should have heard on this point the
  rich manufacturers of printed calico, the very persons who used to bawl
  themselves hoarse in preaching equality, morning and evening in the
  cafe. That haughty woman, Madame de Renal, was of course responsible
  for this abomination. The reason? The fine eyes and fresh complexion of
  the little abbe Sorel explained everything else.
  
  A short time after their return to Vergy, Stanislas, the youngest of
  the children, caught the fever; Madame de Renal was suddenly attacked
  by an awful remorse. For the first time she reproached herself for her
  love with some logic. She seemed to understand as though by a miracle
  the enormity of the sin into which she had let herself be swept. Up to
  that moment, although deeply religious, she had never thought of the
  greatness of her crime in the eyes of God.
  
  In former times she had loved God passionately in the Convent of
  the Sacred Heart; in the present circumstances, she feared him with
  equal intensity. The struggles which lacerated her soul were all the
  more awful in that her fear was quite irrational. Julien found that
  the least argument irritated instead of soothing her. She saw in the
  illness the language of hell. Moreover, Julien was himself very fond of
  the little Stanislas.
  
  It soon assumed a serious character. Then incessant remorse deprived
  Madame de Renal of even her power of sleep. She ensconced herself in a
  gloomy silence: if she had opened her mouth, it would only have been to
  confess her crime to God and mankind.
  
  "I urge you," said Julien to her, as soon as they got alone, "not to
  speak to anyone. Let me be the sole confidant of your sufferings. If
  you still love me, do not speak. Your words will not be able to take
  away our Stanislas' fever." But his consolations produced no effect.
  He did not know that Madame de Renal had got it into her head that, in
  order to appease the wrath of a jealous God, it was necessary either to
  hate Julien, or let her son die. It was because she felt she could not
  hate her lover that she was so unhappy.
  
  "Fly from me," she said one day to Julien. "In the name of God leave
  this house. It is your presence here which kills my son. God punishes
  me," she added in a low voice. "He is just. I admire his fairness.
  My crime is awful, and I was living without remorse," she exclaimed.
  "That was the first sign of my desertion of God: I ought to be doubly
  punished."
  
  Julien was profoundly touched. He could see in this neither hypocrisy
  nor exaggeration. "She thinks that she is killing her son by loving me,
  and all the same the unhappy woman loves me more than her son. I cannot
  doubt it. It is remorse for that which is killing her. Those sentiments
  of hers have real greatness. But how could I have inspired such a love,
  I who am so poor, so badly-educated, so ignorant, and sometimes so
  coarse in my manners?"
  
  One night the child was extremely ill. At about two o'clock in the
  morning, M. de Renal came to see it. The child consumed by fever, and
  extremely flushed, could not recognise its father. Suddenly Madame de
  Renal threw herself at her husband's feet; Julien saw that she was
  going to confess everything and ruin herself for ever.
  
  Fortunately this extraordinary proceeding annoyed M. de Renal.
  
  "Adieu! Adieu!" he said, going away.
  
  "No, listen to me," cried his wife on her knees before him, trying to
  hold him back. "Hear the whole truth. It is I who am killing my son. I
  gave him life, and I am taking it back. Heaven is punishing me. In the
  eyes of God I am guilty of murder. It is necessary that I should ruin
  and humiliate myself. Perhaps that sacrifice will appease the the Lord."
  
  If M. de Renal had been a man of any imagination, he would then have
  realized everything.
  
  "Romantic nonsense," he cried, moving his wife away as she tried to
  embrace his knees. "All that is romantic nonsense! Julien, go and fetch
  the doctor at daybreak," and he went back to bed. Madame de Renal fell
  on her knees half-fainting, repelling Julien's help with a hysterical
  gesture.
  
  Julien was astonished.
  
  "So this is what adultery is," he said to himself. "Is it possible
  that those scoundrels of priests should be right, that they who commit
  so many sins themselves should have the privilege of knowing the true
  theory of sin? How droll!"
  
  For twenty minutes after M. de Renal had gone back to bed, Julien saw
  the woman he loved with her head resting on her son's little bed,
  motionless, and almost unconscious. "There," he said to himself, "is
  a woman of superior temperament brought to the depths of unhappiness
  simply because she has known me."
  
  "Time moves quickly. What can I do for her? I must make up my mind. I
  have not got simply myself to consider now. What do I care for men and
  their buffooneries? What can I do for her? Leave her? But I should be
  leaving her alone and a prey to the most awful grief. That automaton
  of a husband is more harm to her than good. He is so coarse that he is
  bound to speak harshly to her. She may go mad and throw herself out of
  the window."
  
  "If I leave her, if I cease to watch over her, she will confess
  everything, and who knows, in spite of the legacy which she is bound to
  bring him, he will create a scandal. She may confess everything (great
  God) to that scoundrel of an abbe who makes the illness of a child
  of six an excuse for not budging from this house, and not without a
  purpose either. In her grief and her fear of God, she forgets all she
  knows of the man; she only sees the priest."
  
  "Go away," said Madame de Renal suddenly to him, opening her eyes.
  
  "I would give my life a thousand times to know what could be of most
  use to you," answered Julien. "I have never loved you so much, my dear
  angel, or rather it is only from this last moment that I begin to adore
  you as you deserve to be adored. What would become of me far from you,
  and with the consciousness that you are unhappy owing to what I have
  done? But don't let my suffering come into the matter. I will go--yes,
  my love! But if I leave you, dear; if I cease to watch over you, to be
  incessantly between you and your husband, you will tell him everything.
  You will ruin yourself. Remember that he will hound you out of his
  house in disgrace. Besancon will talk of the scandal. You will be said
  to be absolutely in the wrong. You will never lift up your head again
  after that shame."
  
  "That's what I ask," she cried, standing up. "I shall suffer, so much
  the better."
  
  "But you will also make him unhappy through that awful scandal."
  
  "But I shall be humiliating myself, throwing myself into the mire, and
  by those means, perhaps, I shall save my son. Such a humiliation in the
  eyes of all is perhaps to be regarded as a public penitence. So far as
  my weak judgment goes, is it not the greatest sacrifice that I can make
  to God?--perhaps He will deign to accept my humiliation, and to leave
  me my son. Show me another sacrifice which is more painful and I will
  rush to it."
  
  "Let me punish myself. I too am guilty. Do you wish me to retire to the
  Trappist Monastery? The austerity of that life may appease your God.
  Oh, heaven, why cannot I take Stanislas's illness upon myself?"
  
  "Ah, do you love him then," said Madame de Renal, getting up and
  throwing herself in his arms.
  
  At the same time she repelled him with horror.
  
  "I believe you! I believe you! Oh, my one friend," she cried falling on
  her knees again. "Why are you not the father of Stanislas? In that case
  it would not be a terrible sin to love you more than your son."
  
  "Won't you allow me to stay and love you henceforth like a brother? It
  is the only rational atonement. It may appease the wrath of the Most
  High."
  
  "Am I," she cried, getting up and taking Julien's head between her two
  hands, and holding it some distance from her. "Am I to love you as if
  you were a brother? Is it in my power to love you like that?" Julien
  melted into tears.
  
  "I will obey you," he said, falling at her feet. "I will obey you in
  whatever you order me. That is all there is left for me to do. My mind
  is struck with blindness. I do not see any course to take. If I leave
  you you will tell your husband everything. You will ruin yourself
  and him as well. He will never be nominated deputy after incurring
  such ridicule. If I stay, you will think I am the cause of your son's
  death, and you will die of grief. Do you wish to try the effect of my
  departure. If you wish, I will punish myself for our sin by leaving you
  for eight days. I will pass them in any retreat you like. In the abbey
  of Bray-le-Haut, for instance. But swear that you will say nothing to
  your husband during my absence. Remember that if you speak I shall
  never be able to come back."
  
  She promised and he left, but was called back at the end of two days.
  
  "It is impossible for me to keep my oath without you. I shall speak to
  my husband if you are not constantly there to enjoin me to silence by
  your looks. Every hour of this abominable life seems to last a day."
  
  Finally heaven had pity on this unfortunate mother. Little by little
  Stanislas got out of danger. But the ice was broken. Her reason had
  realised the extent of her sin. She could not recover her equilibrium
  again. Her pangs of remorse remained, and were what they ought to have
  been in so sincere a heart. Her life was heaven and hell: hell when she
  did not see Julien; heaven when she was at his feet.
  
  "I do not deceive myself any more," she would say to him, even during
  the moments when she dared to surrender herself to his full love. "I
  am damned, irrevocably damned. You are young, heaven may forgive you,
  but I, I am damned. I know it by a certain sign. I am afraid, who would
  not be afraid at the sight of hell? but at the bottom of my heart I
  do not repent at all. I would commit my sin over again if I had the
  opportunity. If heaven will only forbear to punish me in this world and
  through my children, I shall have more than I deserve. But you, at any
  rate, my Julien," she would cry at other moments, "are you happy? Do
  you think I love you enough?"
  
  The suspiciousness and morbid pride of Julien, who needed, above all,
  a self-sacrificing love, altogether vanished when he saw at every hour
  of the day so great and indisputable a sacrifice. He adored Madame
  de Renal. "It makes no difference her being noble, and my being a
  labourer's son. She loves me.... she does not regard me as a valet
  charged with the functions of a lover." That fear once dismissed,
  Julien fell into all the madness of love, into all its deadly
  uncertainties.
  
  "At any rate," she would cry, seeing his doubts of her love, "let me
  feel quite happy during the three days we still have together. Let us
  make haste; perhaps to-morrow will be too late. If heaven strikes me
  through my children, it will be in vain that I shall try only to live
  to love you, and to be blind to the fact that it is my crime which has
  killed them. I could not survive that blow. Even if I wished I could
  not; I should go mad."
  
  "Ah, if only I could take your sin on myself as you so generously
  offered to take Stanislas' burning fever!"
  
  This great moral crisis changed the character of the sentiment
  which united Julien and his mistress. His love was no longer simply
  admiration for her beauty, and the pride of possessing her.
  
  Henceforth their happiness was of a quite superior character. The flame
  which consumed them was more intense. They had transports filled with
  madness. Judged by the worldly standard their happiness would have
  appeared intensified. But they no longer found that delicious serenity,
  that cloudless happiness, that facile joy of the first period of their
  love, when Madame de Renal's only fear was that Julien did not love her
  enough. Their happiness had at times the complexion of crime.
  
  In their happiest and apparently their most tranquil moments, Madame
  de Renal would suddenly cry out, "Oh, great God, I see hell," as she
  pressed Julien's hand with a convulsive grasp. "What horrible tortures!
  I have well deserved them." She grasped him and hung on to him like ivy
  onto a wall.
  
  Julien would try in vain to calm that agitated soul. She would take his
  hand, cover it with kisses. Then, relapsing into a gloomy reverie, she
  would say, "Hell itself would be a blessing for me. I should still have
  some days to pass with him on this earth, but hell on earth, the death
  of my children. Still, perhaps my crime will be forgiven me at that
  price. Oh, great God, do not grant me my pardon at so great a price.
  These poor children have in no way transgressed against You. I, I am
  the only culprit. I love a man who is not my husband."
  
  Julien subsequently saw Madame de Renal attain what were apparently
  moments of tranquillity. She was endeavouring to control herself;
  she did not wish to poison the life of the man she loved. They found
  the days pass with the rapidity of lightning amid these alternating
  moods of love, remorse, and voluptuousness. Julien lost the habit of
  reflecting.
  
  Mademoiselle Elisa went to attend to a little lawsuit which she had at
  Verrieres. She found Valenod very piqued against Julien. She hated the
  tutor and would often speak about him.
  
  "You will ruin me, Monsieur, if I tell the truth," she said one day to
  Valenod. "All masters have an understanding amongst themselves with
  regard to matters of importance. There are certain disclosures which
  poor servants are never forgiven."
  
  After these stereotyped phrases, which his curiosity managed to cut
  short, Monsieur Valenod received some information extremely mortifying
  to his self-conceit.
  
  This woman, who was the most distinguished in the district, the woman
  on whom he had lavished so much attention in the last six years, and
  made no secret of it, more was the pity, this woman who was so proud,
  whose disdain had put him to the blush times without number, had just
  taken for her lover a little workman masquerading as a tutor. And to
  fill the cup of his jealousy, Madame de Renal adored that lover.
  
  "And," added the housemaid with a sigh, "Julien did not put himself out
  at all to make his conquest, his manner was as cold as ever, even with
  Madame."
  
  Elisa had only become certain in the country, but she believed that
  this intrigue dated from much further back. "That is no doubt the
  reason," she added spitefully, "why he refused to marry me. And to
  think what a fool I was when I went to consult Madame de Renal and
  begged her to speak to the tutor."
  
  The very same evening, M. de Renal received from the town, together
  with his paper, a long anonymous letter which apprised him in the
  greatest detail of what was taking place in his house. Julien saw him
  pale as he read this letter written on blue paper, and look at him
  with a malicious expression. During all that evening the mayor failed
  to throw off his trouble. It was in vain that Julien paid him court by
  asking for explanations about the genealogy of the best families in
  Burgundy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Part 1, Chapter 19
target: When the king's visit is over, Julien hangs around the room that the Marquis de La Mole stayed in. He finds a piece of folded paper that contains a note written by a guy to the Marquis who wants a government post that's about to open up. In the coming week, one of the biggest points of gossip in town is how Julien was allowed to ride with the Honor Guard. Even people who usually preach equality are furious with a carpenter's son being honored in this way. People suspect that Madame de Renal put in a good word for him because he's handsome. Soon afterward, Madame de Renal's son falls ill with a fever. She thinks that God is punishing her for having an affair with Julien. She tells Julien that she's going to spill her guts to her husband. Julien tells her not to. One day, Madame falls to her knees and tries to tell her husband that their son's illness is all her fault. But he thinks she's just being crazy and won't listen to her. Julien thinks about going away for a while. But he knows that Madame will tell her husband everything if he leaves. Julien has a long talk with Madame that ends with them both crying and swearing to stop their affair. Eventually, Madame's son regains his health. Madame's remorse stays strong though, now that she's accepted the sinfulness of what she's done. The servant Elisa becomes so frustrated that she one day goes into town and tells Monsieur de Renal's rival, Valenod, that Madame is sleeping with Julien Sorel. It's not clear whether she knows this for sure or is just talking out of suspicion. The news hurts Valenod's pride, since he has been trying to sleep with Madame de Renal for years. Next thing you know, Julien sees Monsieur de Renal reading an anonymous letter explaining everything going on between his wife and Julien. The man's face darkens as he reads.