Il s’éleve une odeur de fruits et de sauce chaude. 9th hour (blog 2.11.23)
Breakfast time! Le petit déjeuner. Finally, after nine hours of being awake, we can eat. Imagine waking up at 6am and not eating until 3pm. To be fair, this could be his lunch, le déjeurner. Perhaps he has skipped breakfast this morning; with all of the busyness of dream-analyzing, soul-searching, connecting with nature, who has time to eat?
What is le menu for today?
Il s’éleve une odeur de fruits et de sauce chaude. There is an odor of fruit and hot sauce. JOY is in the air! To be fair, this could be lunch, or déjeuner in France, though this is the first mention of food in poems A-I. He can smell the aroma of cooked meat wafting through the half-open door. An ewer of “miracle” water quinches his thirst and wets his whistle!
He is not dining alone, he has companions!
Rich conversation, une vie, une bonté, surabondantes, goodness is exalted in his guests. The languages are diverse. I want to be at this table!
There is one more participant—le grand et beau chien, a large, beautiful dog sitting as a statue, “an Egyptian god of basalt”- l’Attentente. A well-behaved dog, not a begging, barking hound.
Alas, their mouths are tired of flavors: strawberries, coffee and successive tobacco have exhausted their powers.
La pléntitude accable. The fullness overwhelms.
Valéry, Paul. Alphabet. Paris: Librairie Générale Française. 1925
[photo of featured image: I took this picture at my favorite café in Paris: Shakespeare & Company, March 2019]