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Kyrkogårdsdamen

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Short story

9 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1946

6 people are currently reading
55 people want to read

About the author

Guy de Maupassant

7,494 books3,055 followers
Henri René Albert Guy de Maupassant was a popular 19th-century French writer. He is one of the fathers of the modern short story. A protege of Flaubert, Maupassant's short stories are characterized by their economy of style and their efficient effortless dénouement. He also wrote six short novels. A number of his stories often denote the futility of war and the innocent civilians who get crushed in it - many are set during the Franco-Prussian War of the 1870s.

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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
Profile Image for Peter.
4,087 reviews799 followers
November 27, 2019
Vincent, the cemetery keeper, discovers a young man who dug up the coffin of a recently deceased young woman. Police is taking over, a trial is set. Why wanted the young man have a last look at his betrothed? What were his reasons for committing this hideous offense? You'll get an eerie open grave story with a surprising twist at the end. Highly recommended!
Profile Image for Nayra.Hassan.
1,260 reviews6,789 followers
August 31, 2021
غي دي موباسان - القبر ..

في السابع عشر من شهر يوليو 1883م وفي الساعة الثانية والنصف صباحاً استيقظ حارس مقبرة بيسييرز الذي كان يعيش في كوخ على حافة هذه المقبرة على نباح كلبه الذي كان مقفلاً عليه داخل المطبخ،Screenshot-20201121-050158
وبينما كان يهبط بسرعة، رأى الكلب يشمشم عند شق الباب وهو ينبح بغضب كما لو كان هناك صعلوك يتسلل حول المنزل. لذلك تناول الحارس بندقيته وانطلق إلى الخارج. أخذ كلبه الذي كان يسبقه يجري في اتجاه طريق " أفينيو جنرال بونيت" ثم توقف عند مقبرة "توموازو". وبينما كان الحارس يتقدّم بحذر رأى ضوءاً خافتاً على جانب طريق "أفينيو مالينفيرز"، وبعد أن تسلل بين القبور توقف حيث كان يجري عمل تدنيس مرعب.

فقد قام رجل بحفر القبر وإخراج تابوت امرأة في مقتبل العمر تم دفنها مساء البارحة، كان يجر جثتها خارج التابوت، وكان هناك فانوس صغير أسود موضوع على كومة من التراب ينير هذا المشهد القبيح.

قفز "فينسنت" على الرجل التعيس، ألقى به على الأرض، قيّد يديه واقتاده إلى مركز الشرطة، لقد كان محامياً شاباً، ثرياً ومحترماً من مدينة اسمها "كورباتايل".

تم إحضاره إلى المحكمة، وافتتح المدعي العام الجلسة، بالإشارة إلى الأعمال الوحشية التي كان قد اقترفها العريف "بيرتراند". اجتاحت قاعة المحكمة موجة من الغضب. وعندما جلس القاضي، هتف الجمهور الحاضر: "الموت! الموت!"، تمكن القاضي من استعادة الهدوء إلى القاعة بصعوبة.

ثم قال بنبرة صارمة جادة: "أيها الدفاع، ما الذي يمكنك قوله في دفاعك؟"، نهض "كورباتيل" الذي رفض الاستعانة بمحامي. كان شخصاً وسيماً، طويلاً، بني البشرة وكان له وجه صريح وأسلوب حيوي وعين جسورة لا تخاف.

دون أن يهتم بالصفير الذي كان يدوي في القاعة، بدأ يتكلم بصوت كان في البداية منخفضاً ومقنعاً، لكنه ازداد ثباتاً أثناء مرافعته.

سيدي الرئيس، السادة المحلفون: لدي القليل جداً لأقوله. المرأة التي قمت بانتهاك قبرها كانت حبيبة قلبي. لقد أحببتها.. عندما قابلتها لأول مرة، انتابني إحساس غريب، لم يكن ذهولاً وإعجاباً، ولا حتى ذلك الذي يُسمى حباً من أول نظرة، كان يبدو لي كما لو كنت قد رأيتها من قبل وكما لو كنت قد عرفتها منذ زمن بعيد. كانت تملك روحي بداخلها.

عندما عرفتها بشكل أفضل قليلاً، كان مجرّد التفكير في رؤيتها مرة ثانية يقتلني بالتعب العميق والرائع: كانت لمسة يدها ليدي مُبهجة لي أكثر من أي شيء يمكن أن أكون تخيلته؛ كانت ابتسامتها تغمرني ببهجة مجنونة مع الرغبة في الجري، في الرقص وفي أن ألقي بنفسي على الأرض.

وذات مساء، عندما ذهبنا للمشي لمسافة طويلة بجانب النهر، هطل المطر علينا فجأة، وأصيبت بالبرد. وتطوّر البرد إلى مرض في الرئة في اليوم التالي، وبعد أسبوع فارقت الحياة.. خلال ساعات معاناتها، لم أستطع بسبب الذهول والذعر أن أفهم ما حدث وأن أعيد التفكير فيه،
لكن عندما ماتت انتابني اليأس للغاية لدرجة أنه لم يبق لديّ أفكار. بكيت.. خلال التفاصيل المُرعبة لعملية الدفن كان حزني الحاد والشديد يشبه الجنون، نوع من الحزن الحسيّ الفيزيائي..

وعندما مضت، عندما أصبحت تحت الثرى، عاد عقلي ثانيةً إلى حاله على الفور، ومررت خلال سلسلة من المعاناة الأخلاقية التي كانت رهيبة، وبرغم ذلك كان الحب الذي منحتني إياه عزيزاً وغالي الثمن.. ثم جاءتني الفكرة الثابتة: لن أراها مرة ثانية.. عندما يثبت المرء على هذه الفكرة طوال يوم كامل، فإنه يشعر كما لو كان قد جُن. فقط فكّروا فيها! هناك امرأة تحبها، امرأة ليس لها مثيل، ليس هناك امرأة أخرى في كل هذا الكون تشبهها.
Screenshot-20201121-050223
وفجأة تختفي! فكّروا في ذلك! إنها تختفي، ليس فقط عنك، بل إلى الأبد! إنها ميتة. هل تفهمون ماذا يعني ذلك؟، أبداً، لن تكون موجودة بعد الآن في أي مكان. لن تنظر بعد الآن تلك العين إلى أي شيء مرة ثانية؛ لن ينطق هذا الصوت، ولا أي صوت مثله بعد الآن كلمة بنفس الطريقة التي كانت تنطقها.. أبداً لن يولد وجه مثل وجهها. أبداً، أبداً!،

يمكن الاحتفاظ بقوالب التماثيل؛ يمكن الاحتفاظ بالقوالب التي بها يمكن صناعة أجسام بنفس الأشكال والخطوط العامة، لكن ذلك الجسم وذلك الوجه لن يولد أبداً على وجه الأرض، رغم أن ملايين وملايين المخلوقات سوف يولدوا، وأكثر من ذلك، وهذه المرأة بالذات لن تظهر بين كافة النساء في المستقبل. لقد عاشت 20 سنة لا أكثر، وها هي قد اختفت إلى الأبد، إلى الأبد، إلى الأبد!،

لقد فكّرت، ابتسمت، أحبتني، والآن لا شيء!. لن أراها ثانية!. إن فكرة تحلل هذا الجسد، وأنني برغم ذلك يمكنني أن أتعرّف عليه، شغلتني، أردت أن ألقي نظرة عليه مرة أخرى.. خرجت ومعي جاروف، فانوس ومطرقة. قفزت من فوق سور المقبرة ووجدت القبر الذي لم يكن مقفلاً تماماً؛ رفعت غطاء التابوت ورفعت لوحاً.
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انطلقت منه رائحة كريهة، رائحة كريهة جرّاء التعفن، لتُحيّي خياشيمي. أوه، فراشها المعطّر بالسوسن!، برغم ذلك فتحت التابوت، وبعد أن أشعلت الفانوس في القبر رأيتها. كان وجهها أزرق، منتفخ، مخيف. وكان ينز من فمها سائل أسود.. هي! تلك كانت هي! تملكني الرعب. لكنني مددت ذراعي لأسحب هذا الوجه البشع نحوي. عندها تم القبض عليّ..

ساد القاعة صمت غريب. كان يبدو أنهم في انتظار المزيد. غادر المحلّفون المنصة للمداولة.. عندما عادوا بعد دقائق قليلة لم يبدي المتهم أي خوف ولم يبدو عليه حتى أنه يفكّر.. أعلن الرئيس من خلال الإجراءات الرسمية العادية قرار القضاة بأنه ليس مذنباً.. لم يتحرّك المتهم وامتلأت القاعة بالتصفيق.
3,490 reviews46 followers
April 6, 2025
AKA: The Tomb

The keeper of the Besiers municipal cemetery is disturbed one night by the incessant barking of his dog and finds a horrible sight, a well-dressed, serious looking young man is in the act of digging up the grave and dragging out the corpse of a young woman who had just been buried there. He immediately calls the police. The fellow is arrested and calmly attempts to tell his story. He explains in court his motivation, actions, and the circumstances that led to this outrage of defiling a corpse in order to avoid prison.
Profile Image for Richie  Kercenna .
256 reviews17 followers
September 20, 2025
Heartbreaking in a way, beautiful, and relatable... to all people at least once in their lives. Very existential too and might trigger or prompt you down a road of deep thinking about life, philosophy, meaning, the hereafter... etc
At the end, the people clapped. There was no better ending to the narrative than that!
Profile Image for Aslı Can.
776 reviews296 followers
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February 22, 2018
Bir ''yosma'' ile aynı arabayı paylaşan kişilerin ahlaklarının duruma göre nasıl da değişiverdiği üzerine muzip ve güzel bir öykü. Biraz da hüzünlü. Maupassant deyince aklımda canlanan şeylerden bambaşka şeyler buldum kitapta. Sevdim.
Profile Image for Berit Lundqvist.
696 reviews26 followers
December 10, 2021
A man i caught in the act when he’s digging up the corpse of a young woman at the local graveyard. He’s taken to court and holds a speech in his defense.

Not my type of book. A flood of emotions. Very French.

Lesson learned: If this is the criterion for true love, then I’ve never been in love.
Profile Image for Dave.
1,356 reviews11 followers
December 16, 2020
I gotta say to feel for the protagonist.
Profile Image for James Dempsey.
307 reviews8 followers
May 23, 2024
Odd story. A romance? Wealthy lawyer defiles the corpse of an ex lover and is then vindicated simply by describing this love in the courtroom.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Profile Image for Classic reverie.
1,861 reviews
February 25, 2023
Guy de Maupassant's "The Grave" is a horrifying short love story.

Story in short- A man is caught digging up a body.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
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The seventeenth of July, one thousand eight hundred and eighty-three, at half-past two in the morning, the watchman in the cemetery of Besiers, who lived in a small cottage on the edge of this field of the dead, was awakened by the barking of his dog, which was shut up in the kitchen. Going down quickly, he saw the animal sniffing at the crack of the door and barking furiously, as
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if some tramp had been sneaking about the house. The keeper, Vincent, therefore took his gun and went out. His dog, preceding him, at once ran in the direction of the Avenue General Bonnet, stopping short at the monument of Madame Tomoiseau. The keeper, advancing cautiously, soon saw a faint light on the side of the Avenue Malenvers, and stealing in among the graves, he came upon a horrible act of profanation.
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A man had dug up the coffin of a young woman who had been buried the evening before and was dragging the corpse out of it. A small dark lantern, standing on a pile of earth, lighted up this hideous scene. Vincent sprang upon the wretch, threw him to the ground, bound his hands and took him to the police station. It was a young, wealthy and respected lawyer in town, named Courbataille.
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert

Extremely sad in the sense that a lover wants to his dead lover's body because he cannot be without her. I just cannot fathom wanting a loved one removed from a sacred grave.

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He was brought into court. The public prosecutor opened the case by referring to the monstrous deeds of the Sergeant Bertrand. A wave of indignation swept over the courtroom. When the magistrate sat down the crowd assembled cried: “Death! death!” With difficulty the presiding judge established silence. Then he said gravely: “Defendant, what have you to say in your defense?” Courbataille, who had refused counsel, rose. He was a handsome
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fellow, tall, brown, with a frank face, energetic manner and a fearless eye. Paying no attention to the whistlings in the room, he began to speak in a voice that was low and veiled at first, but that grew more firm as he proceeded. “Monsieur le President, gentlemen of the jury: I have very little to say. The woman whose grave I violated was my sweetheart. I loved her. “I loved her, not with a sensual love and not with mere tenderness
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of heart and soul, but with an absolute, complete love, with an overpowering passion. “Hear me: “When I met her for the first time I felt a strange sensation. It was not astonishment nor admiration, nor yet that which is called love at first sight, but a feeling of delicious well-being, as if I had been plunged into a warm bath. Her gestures seduced me, her voice enchanted me, and it was with infinite pleasure that I looked upon her person. It seemed to me as if I had seen her before and
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as if I had known her a long time. She had within her something of my spirit. “She seemed to me like an answer to a cry uttered by my soul, to that vague and unceasing cry with which we call upon Hope during our whole life. “When I knew her a little better, the mere thought of seeing her again filled me with exquisite and profound uneasiness; the touch of her hand in mine was more delightful to me than anything that I had imagined; her smile filled me with
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a mad joy, with the desire to run, to dance, to fling myself upon the ground. “So we became lovers. “Yes, more than that: she was my very life. I looked for nothing further on earth, and had no further desires. I longed for nothing further. “One evening, when we had gone on a somewhat long walk by the river, we were overtaken by the rain, and she caught cold. It developed into pneumonia the next day, and a week later she was dead.
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“During the hours of her suffering astonishment and consternation prevented my understanding and reflecting upon it, but when she was dead I was so overwhelmed by blank despair that I had no thoughts left. I wept. “During all the horrible details of the interment my keen and wild grief was like a madness, a kind of sensual, physical grief. “Then when she was gone, when she was under the earth, my mind at once found itself again, and I passed through a series of moral sufferings

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so terrible that even the love she had vouchsafed to me was dear at that price. “Then the fixed idea came to me: I shall not see her again. “When one dwells on this thought for a whole day one feels as if he were going mad. Just think of it! There is a woman whom you adore, a unique woman, for in the whole universe there is not a second one like her. This woman has given herself to you and has created with you the mysterious union that is called Love. Her eye seems to you
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more vast than space, more charming than the world, that clear eye smiling with her tenderness. This woman loves you. When she speaks to you her voice floods you with joy. “And suddenly she disappears! Think of it! She disappears, not only for you, but forever. She is dead. Do you understand what that means? Never, never, never, not anywhere will she exist any more. Nevermore will that eye look upon anything again; nevermore will that voice, nor any voice like it, utter a word in the same way as she uttered it.
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“Nevermore will a face be born that is like hers. Never, never! The molds of statues are kept; casts are kept by which one can make objects with the same outlines and forms. But that one body and that one face will never more be born again upon the earth. And yet millions and millions of creatures will be born, and more than that, and this one woman will not reappear among all the women of the future. Is it possible? It drives one mad to think of it.
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“She lived for twenty-years, not more, and she has disappeared forever, forever, forever! She thought, she smiled, she loved me. And now nothing! The flies that die in the autumn are as much as we are in this world. And now nothing! And I thought that her body, her fresh body, so warm, so sweet, so white, so lovely, would rot down there in that box under the earth. And her soul, her thought, her love — where is it? “Not to see her again! The idea of this decomposing body, that I might
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yet recognize, haunted me. I wanted to look at it once more. “I went out with a spade, a lantern and a hammer; I jumped over the cemetery wall and I found the grave, which had not yet been closed entirely; I uncovered the coffin and took up a board. An abominable odor, the stench of putrefaction, greeted my nostrils. Oh, her bed perfumed with orris! “Yet I opened the coffin, and, holding my lighted lantern down into it I saw her. Her face was blue, swollen,
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frightful. A black liquid had oozed out of her mouth. “She! That was she! Horror seized me. But I stretched out my arm to draw this monstrous face toward me. And then I was caught. “All night I have retained the foul odor of this putrid body, the odor of my well beloved, as one retains the perfume of a woman after a love embrace. “Do with me what you will.” A strange silence seemed to oppress the room. They seemed to be
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waiting for something more. The jury retired to deliberate. When they came back a few minutes later the accused showed no fear and did not even seem to think. The president announced with the usual formalities that his judges declared him to be not guilty. He did not move and the room applauded. The Grave appeared in Gil Blas, July 29, 1883, under the signature of “Maufrigneuse.”
Profile Image for Özgün Onat.
437 reviews6 followers
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July 15, 2025
TOMBALAK / GUY DE MAUPASSANT
Sahaftan aldığım Cumhuriyet / Dünya Klasikleri Dizisinden olan bu kitabı önce okudum, sonra araştırdım. Ve 6 Temmuz'da Guy de Maupassant'ın ölüm yıldönümü olduğunu gördüm, böylece anmış oldum.
<"Tombalak" adlı öyküsüyle birden ün kazandıktan sonra pek çok öykü, roman, oyunlar, anılar ve bir şiir kitabı yazdı. Yapıtlarında çocukluğunun geçtiği kırsal bölgeyle, gerek çalışma yaşamında, gerekse Paris'in yazın çevrelerinde ve yolculuklarında edindiği deneyimlerden yararlandı.> diyor önsözde. Zaten Tombalak başta olmak üzere öykülerin çoğu yolculuk hikayeleri.
Aslında bir novella olabilecek Tombalak kitaptaki en uzun öykü. Tombalak, Fransa-Prusya Savaşı'nın konu olarak ele alan Boule de Suif ve Diğer Savaş Hikâyeleri adlı öykü serisinin baş öyküsü.
Hikaye, Fransa-Prusya Savaşı'nın olduğu 1870'lerin başlarında geçer. Prusya ordularının işgal ettiği Rouen şehrinden gitmek isteyen birkaç kişinin kentten ayrılışını anlatıyor. Ücretlerini ödeyen değişik sınıflardan on kişi posta arabası ile Le Havre şehrine kaçmaktadırlar.
Önce arabayı paylaşan farklı sınıflardaki yolcuları tanıtıp, karakterlerini inceliyor. Öyküde vurgulanmak istenen esas nokta yolcuların direniş hakkında atıp tutarken, korkakça şehirden kaçmaları. Ayrıca yolcular arasında siyasetçi, burjuva, esnaf, Kont ve kontes, rahibe gibi her kesimden karakterler olması ve bunların birbirlerine karşı tutumları, diyalogları ile toplumsal sınıf farkları da oldukça vurgulanmış.
Kitaptaki diğer öykülere gelirsek onlarda savaş, işgal, yolculuk ile savaşta karşılık bulan ve bulmayan aşk hikayeleri. Aynı şekilde değişik kesimlerden, farklı insanların karakterleri, psikolojileri ve davranışlarının incelendiği kısa ama doyurucu öyküler.
Maupassant, "Kaçık" adlı öyküsünü çağdaşı şair, besteci, yazar, gazeteci ve edebiyat eleştirmeni olan Robert de Bonnières'e ithaf etmiş. Diğer bir öyküsü "Yolculukta"yı ise gene çağdaşı, gazeteci, romancı ve oyun yazarı olan Gustave Toudouze'a ithaf etmiş.
Keyifle okuduğum bir eser oldu. Yeni bir kitapta buluşana kadar kitapla kalın.
Profile Image for Theo Milos.
352 reviews5 followers
November 12, 2023
En kort novell av en bra fransk författare. I denna bok möter huvudpersonen en kvinna på kyrkogården som sörjer sin framlidne make. De bekantar sig och träffar varandra i tre veckor. Sedan tappar de kontakten. En dag ser mannen henne på gatan gående med en äldre herre som är hennes man. Han ställer sig då frågan gällande vad hon gjorde på platsen och varför hon lärde henne honom? Är det vanligt förekommande? Är det ett yrke?
Profile Image for E Azra.
114 reviews
April 5, 2022
We can see in this short story that the people's hypocrite. The end was quite annoying and effective.
Profile Image for Rick West.
94 reviews
August 3, 2016
A story about a man that can't let a woman go even after she is dead. Typical Guy De he knows how to get in your head.
Profile Image for Tom.
708 reviews41 followers
November 19, 2016
Someone exhumes their recently deceased, and waxes lyrical at court about how much she meant to him. Yawn.
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