Colette is such a fascinating character herself, that it's tempting to give a description of some of the highlights of her life right here. I will defer, however, to two of my favorites among her many novels, Chéri (1920) and Fin de Chéri (1926). In the first novel and in its sequel, Colette sensitively examines the tenuous emotions of Léa de Lonval, a courtesan nearing age 50, who has been the longtime mistress of the much younger Fred "Chéri" Paloux. Whereas the first novel focuses on Léa’s heartbreaking sense of loss— fading beauty, a lover’s abandonment, an uncertain future—the sequel shows a contented, productive Léa some six years later with a new lease on life.
Chéri opens with the title character lying naked on Léa's bed playing languidly with her pearl necklace. Their passion is coming to an end as Chéri will soon enter an arranged marriage with the rich, but insignificant 18-year-old Edmée, and Léa, though still beautiful and sporting a figure that is the envy of much-younger women, suspects the current passion will probably be her last. After all, she no longer wears the pearls at night, afraid that artificial light will call attention to her aging neck. "Chéri . . . .eût remarqué trop souvent que le cou de Léa, épaissi, perdait sa blancheur et montrait sous la peau des muscles détendus." A woman of sophisticated tastes —"Elle aimait l'ordre, le beau linge, les vins mûris, la cuisine réfléchie" [9:]) and one with a position of respect in the demi-monde, Léa takes exquisite care of herself with beautiful clothes and jewelry, daily massages, semi-weekly manicures, and a Chinese pedicure every month. Although Léa insists she is accepting of Chéri's impending marriage, and, therefore, the demise of their long-standing affair, she now feels a loss of control in her life. "Elle se sentait circonspecte, pleine de défiance contre un ennemi qu'elle ne connaissait pas: la douleur. Trente ans de vie facile, aimable, souvent amoureuse, parfois cupide, venaient de se détacher d'elle et de la laisser, à peu près de cinquante ans, jeune et comme nue" (Chéri 78).
When she encounters three aging courtesans of her acquaintance, including the ridiculous old Lili, who boasts of wanting to marry her young Italian lover, Léa is horrified at what might be in store for her in a few short years. Still in love, even obsessed, with Chéri, Léa deliberately leaves Paris for the first few months after his marriage. Upon her return, she is more agitated than ever about becoming old.
Chéri, who abandoned his bride for several months, has been equally agitated in Léa's absence. When the two finally end up making love at Léa's apartment, she is elated. She assumes he will now leave his wife for good and begins planning a new life for the two of them together. Chéri, however, has no intention of ending his marriage—a sham though it may be—and returning permanently to Léa.
The novel Chéri winds down poignantly with Léa's voluntary adieu to her lover. For the briefest moment, she thinks he might be turning around on the sidewalk and coming back to her. Before she can become fully elated, though, she sees her own reflection in the mirror. It is the face of an old woman. Thus, on this sad note for an aging courtesan, the novel is finished. But Léa's story is not.
Fin de Chéri opens in 1919, six years after Chéri and Léa parted. World War I, during which Chéri served lackadaisically in the French army, has come and gone, and he has returned even more lethargic and bewildered about his place in the world than he was before. The women in the novel, however, are all busily engagées in various activities. Edmée, who has grown well beyond the naïve stupor she endured as Chéri's new bride, bustles about a local hospital nursing the war wounded, men to whom Chéri cannot relate. Chéri's mother, Marie-Laure (herself a former courtesan), has become involved in financial affairs.
Most astonishing of all, though, is the transformation that Léa has undergone. Whereas the third-person narrator in Chéri focused mostly on Léa's point of view, Fin de Chéri, is told entirely through Chéri/Fred's eyes. Lea's appearance in the second novel is limited to one chapter about halfway through, a point at which, a jaded and frustrated Chéri finally visits her apartment seven years after their split, and five years since he saw her last.
Fred is shocked to see that Léa, though calm, cheerful, and welcoming, has grown large, gray-haired and completely practical in her dress—sensible shoes, plain suits, etc.,—and no longer bothers with makeup. "Il s'épouvanta de la trouver si simple, joviale comme un vieil homme." When Chéri remarks that she may wish to change clothes, she chuckles, showing her total preference for function over style in all activities. "Habillé pour la vie, je te dis! Ce que c'est commode! Des blouses, du beau linge, cet uniforme par là-dessus, me voilà parée. Prête pour dîner chez Montagné. . . prête pour le ciné, pour le bridge et pour la promenade au Bois" (Fin de Chéri 102).
Léa's comfort with her new persona is intolerable to her former lover. "Cesse! Reparais! Jette cette mascarade! Tu es bien quelque part là dessus. Éclos! Surgis toute neuve, les cheveux rougis de ce matin, poudrée de frais; reprends ton long corset, ta robe bleue à fin jabot, ton parfum de prairie. . .. Quitte toute cela, viens-t'en” (Fin de Chéri 93).
Chéri knows, though, that his wishes are useless. Léa is too attuned, too snugly ensconced in the easier lifestyle she has embraced and the new possibilities which she at last has allowed herself. Even her excess weight is favorably suited to the woman into whom she has evolved.
And yet, what does Léa really seem to miss in her life and is there any indication she is searching for missing puzzle pieces? One could just as easily argue that the obesity itself was more likely a backlash—albeit an extreme one-—to her earlier obsession and constant paranoid dissatisfaction with her appearance as she entered middle age, bothersome details she seems to be gratefully rid of. Léa may no longer be beautiful and alluring to men, but, unlike her friend Lili, she has escaped the pathetic realm of the ridiculous, and is virtually basking in peace and self-respect .
Colette, then, has pursued an unexpectedly modernist vein with an eye toward the possibilities that the former courtesan may achieve instead of the stereotypes and expectations through which she is assumed to spiral downward and to which she is traditionally thought to fall prey. Colette refuses to subject her female characters to a tragic destiny and creates not only in Léa, but also in Marie-Laure and Edmée, women who escape traditional female roles, first of all, like George Sand's title character in Isidora, not having men as an integral part of their lives, and second, by being devoted to the present and to a happiness of their own making. "Seule compte leur adhésion passionnée au présent, leur 'prodigieuse et femelle aptitude bonheur.'" This acceptance of the past and enthusiasm for the present is why Léa, despite her faded beauty, keeps up a rigorous attitude and language. For Colette, beauty may come or go, and this is not a tragedy. However, she is stating that it is unforgivable to lose the desire to live. There is a very good a 2009 film version of Cheri starring Michele Pfeifer as Léa, Rupert Friend as Chéri (he does a good job in this role, but you'll like him better as Prince Albert in Victoria and Albert), Felicity Jones as Edmée, and Kathy Bates as Marie-Laure. Although the film goes through only the first novel, a voice-over narrator at the end tells briefly the events of Fin de Chéri, including the conclusion (which I will not reveal here).