So I took advantage of my sudden liberty to go for a walk...

YOU GUYS. There is a GARDEN between the Rue Oudinot (formerly Plumet) and the Rue de Babylone. Or, well, a public park on the Rue de Babylone that almost touches the dead-end at the end of the Rue Oudinot. It's called the Jardin Catherine Labouré and today it was full of little kids running around taking advantage of the nice weather.

Why did I never find it before? Because it's goddamn well-hidden--only one entrance and a ten-foot-high wall around it with no gaps or open fences or anything. (No, it is not where the house on the Rue Plumet would've been, as far as I can tell. Too far down the street. Sorry.)

Also, on the other side of the dead-end is what looks to all appearances to be an abandoned hospital. Creeeepy.

So I took advantage of my sudden liberty to go for a walk...

YOU GUYS. There is a GARDEN between the Rue Oudinot (formerly Plumet) and the Rue de Babylone. Or, well, a public park on the Rue de Babylone that almost touches the dead-end at the end of the Rue Oudinot. It's called the Jardin Catherine Labouré and today it was full of little kids running around taking advantage of the nice weather.

Why did I never find it before? Because it's goddamn well-hidden--only one entrance and a ten-foot-high wall around it with no gaps or open fences or anything. (No, it is not where the house on the Rue Plumet would've been, as far as I can tell. Too far down the street. Sorry.)

Also, on the other side of the dead-end is what looks to all appearances to be an abandoned hospital. Creeeepy.

SWIRLING ID VORTEX

Couldn't sleep last night, so stayed up until five in the morning reading Splendeurs et Misères. Finished part 2 ("A combien l'amour revient aux vieillards"), started part 3 ("Où mènent les mauvais chemins"), should not be this desperate for fic. Also should not be looking for fic when I haven't even finished the damn book. Also should probably be ashamed of myself since by "fic" I mean "porn," but it explains why I want fic before I've even finished the book--I know that what I want to read will never be in the book even though it's 95% canon. (Yes, 95%. I mean, I'm sure there are academics who've tried to preserve the purity of the literary canon and insist that Vautrin wasn't fucking Lucien senseless, but unless there is some serious "no it is not gay it is a PURE and SPIRITUAL pact with the devil, who coincidentally has a taste for pretty young men" backpedaling in the second half, they don't have much of a leg to stand on.)

Funny that the id!fic meme is going around fandom right now, because this is a perfect example. Ordinarily I would not stay up until five in the morning reading Balzac. All the other Balzac I've read so far is the literary equivalent of eating vegetables--the kind of literature that's good for you, you can appreciate it a lot better now than when you were a kid and it was being shoved down your throat, but you're not going to plonk yourself down at the table and devour your whole stash the day before your period. But suddenly along comes Vautrin and his beautifully fucked-up relationship with Lucien and I am getting sucked into the swirling id vortex. And the rest of it is still squarely in the category of "interesting and observant and the execution is brilliant, but I am not particularly touched by it."

And just when I thought I could read in French without much difficulty, along comes Balzac's ridiculous transcription of Nucingen's German(?) accent. What the FUCK is that, seriously.

SWIRLING ID VORTEX

Couldn't sleep last night, so stayed up until five in the morning reading Splendeurs et Misères. Finished part 2 ("A combien l'amour revient aux vieillards"), started part 3 ("Où mènent les mauvais chemins"), should not be this desperate for fic. Also should not be looking for fic when I haven't even finished the damn book. Also should probably be ashamed of myself since by "fic" I mean "porn," but it explains why I want fic before I've even finished the book--I know that what I want to read will never be in the book even though it's 95% canon. (Yes, 95%. I mean, I'm sure there are academics who've tried to preserve the purity of the literary canon and insist that Vautrin wasn't fucking Lucien senseless, but unless there is some serious "no it is not gay it is a PURE and SPIRITUAL pact with the devil, who coincidentally has a taste for pretty young men" backpedaling in the second half, they don't have much of a leg to stand on.)

Funny that the id!fic meme is going around fandom right now, because this is a perfect example. Ordinarily I would not stay up until five in the morning reading Balzac. All the other Balzac I've read so far is the literary equivalent of eating vegetables--the kind of literature that's good for you, you can appreciate it a lot better now than when you were a kid and it was being shoved down your throat, but you're not going to plonk yourself down at the table and devour your whole stash the day before your period. But suddenly along comes Vautrin and his beautifully fucked-up relationship with Lucien and I am getting sucked into the swirling id vortex. And the rest of it is still squarely in the category of "interesting and observant and the execution is brilliant, but I am not particularly touched by it."

And just when I thought I could read in French without much difficulty, along comes Balzac's ridiculous transcription of Nucingen's German(?) accent. What the FUCK is that, seriously.