The Angels of Perversity by Remy de Gourmont

Author:Remy de Gourmont [Gourmont, Remy de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780946626816
Publisher: SCB Distributors
Published: 2011-07-16T04:00:00+00:00

THE MAGNOLIA

The two sisters, Arabella the beautiful and Bibiane the plain, came out of the house together. Arabella’s beauty emphasised her youthfulness, while Bibiane seemed older by virtue of her plainness, so they seemed more like daughter and mother than orphan sisters.

They came out of the house which had been touched by grief and paused beneath the magnolia: the magical tree which had been planted by no one and which bloomed so magnificently even in the grounds of the desolate mansion.

The magnolia came to life twice in every year, after the fashion of its kind: first in the spring, when it pushed forth the green spears which would become its leaves; then again in early autumn, before the tired leaves began to wither. In autumn, as in spring, the proud display of the enchanted tree put forth huge flowers which were like those of the sacred lotus, each snow-white corolla cradling a tiny red spot as though it were a shroud marked with a single drop of life’s blood.

While she leaned upon the maternal arm of Bibiane, who was always tolerant of her weaknesses, Arabella looked up at the magnolia’s branches, dazedly.

“He is dying like the autumn flowers of the magnolia, which have withered on the branches. The one who should have nourished the flower that I am with the drops of his vital fluid is dying, and now I am destined to remain eternally pale!”

“There is still one flower left,” said Bibiane.

It was a flower which had not yet opened fully: a bud which stood out among the complacent leaves by virtue of its virginal purity.

“The last one!” Arabella complained. “It will be my bridal ornament. But is it really the last? No – see, Bibiane, there is one more yet, faded and nearly withered. They are like us – the two of us! Oh, it is a sign! It frightens me … I am all a-tremble … there we are, he and I, our fates mirrored in these two flowers. I will pluck myself, Bibiane – see, here I am! Shall I also have to die, like him?”

Mutely, Bibiane lovingly embraced her trembling sister. She was afraid herself, but she led Arabella from the sad and sorry garden, away from the magnolia which had now been stripped of the last relic of its former glory.

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