Status Updates From A Winter In Majorca

Now, the moral of this tale, childish perhaps, but heartfelt, seems to be that man is not made to live with trees, stones, the clear sky, the azure sea, flowers and mountains, but with his fellow-men.

In the stormy days of our youth, we imagine that solitude is a sure refuge from the assaults of life, a certain balm for the wounds of battle. (ctd in comment section)

Emptiness & stillness terrify me,symmetry and strict order overwhelm me with gloom &if I could accept the idea of eternal damnation,my hell would certainly be to live eternally in a house ruled by meticulous order, where nothing is ever left lying about,where no animal is admitted.You may burn all the carpets in the world,if I may enjoy them only on condition of never seeing a child,a cat or dog frisking over them!

Especially detestable to me is an underfurnished and scrupulously tidy room. Unless the occupant happens to possess great intelligence and a nobility of heart that transcends the sphere of such unimportant material considerations, and allows him to treat his home as a mere tabernacle, I diagnose an empty head and a cold heart.

(Madame Sand doesn't seem a fan of a clear desk policy)

Our social order does not even command the sympathies of its defenders; each of us in dissatisfaction chooses whatever escape suits him best. One throws himself into art, another into science. All of us who have time and money to spare, travel – that is to say, we flee, since surely it is not so much a question of travelling as of getting away? Which of us has not some sorrow to dull, or some yoke to cast off?

Et la morale de cette narration, puérile peut-etre, mais sincēre, c'est que l'homme n'est pas fait pour vivre avec des arbres, avec des pierres, avec le ciel pur, avec la mer azurëe, avec les fleurs et les montagnes, mais bien avec les hommes ses semblables.

Nous étions partis de Valldemosa, l'enfant et moi, au milieu des pluies de l'hiver, pour aller disputer le pianino de Pleyel aux féroces douaniers de Palma.

Fortunately I had recently read the english understand wool, so I 7ndrstood that the Plwyel was Chopin's prefered piano!