Friday, January 29, 2010

29 January 1820 - The Money.

Even if we had managed to find the necklace, how were to we be able to pay up? Thirty-six thousand francs was A LOT of money.

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My husband had eighteen thousand francs which his father left him. That was a start. We would have to borrow the rest.

A thousand of francs of one, five hundred from another, five louis here and three there. My husband risked everything, not even knowing if we could pay back.

Frightened by the troubles yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was going to to suffer, he went to get the necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs.

I felt a wave of relief, we have finally paid the necklace. I passed it to Madame Forestier, anxious that she would open the box. What would she think? Luckily, she didn't.

After that I felt the wave of panic come. How would we meet the debts? Just how shall we do it? What can we achieve?

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

26 January 1820 - Replacement.

After all that searching, we had lost hope. Then my husband decided what to do.

"We have to find a way to replace it."

We took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler of whose name it had contained. However, it was not he who sold the necklace, but just furnished the case. We went to almost every jeweler, searching for a similar necklace, but to no avail.


We were tired, we were about to give up hope. I was thinking, would Madame Forestier question the time taken to return to jewelery? Would she find everything out? I did not want to be punished, I did not deserve it. This was what motivated me to move on. I won't give up. This is so we don't get punished. She was rich, I was poor, we're worlds different. She had been kind to lend me her necklace, now I must return the favour. If I don't, she would think otherwise.


Then finally, we found a string of diamonds that looked almost like the one we had lost at a place called "Palais Royal". It was worth forty thousand francs and we could actually have it for thirty-six thousand francs. We begged him not to sell it for three days and made a bargain. He should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs if we were to find the necklace because the end of February.


All hope was not lost, at least, not yet.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

19 January 1820: Nowhere to be found.

I returned home from the wonderful ball, still thinking of the pleasure, thinking that if there was one more, I would definitely go again. Blushing from all the dancing, I thought of the necklace. I should credit it, the beauty of it was why it felt so wonderful tonight. I looked at my mirror to see myself in full glory once more, but then, I saw something was very wrong and uttered a small cry.


My necklace, my marvelous diamond necklace! Madame Forestier will not be pleased, not at all. I was doomed, doomed for the rest of my life. When I realised that it was gone, I was so stunned that I could only stutter the situation to my dear husband. Who seemed more shocked, I have no idea. I could feel my own face turn pale white, what was I to do? I was so scared, what if we could not find it? What should we do? How should I tell Madame Forestier? Will she think I am a thief? Will she charge me for taking her necklace? Would she actually think I would run away with the beauty of her necklace?


My husband went back on foot, searching the entire route. All I could do was sit stunned on my chair, not even changing. I was so scared, just so scared. My husband went to the police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he even went to the cab companies. Everywhere he went, it was due to that small spark of hope that we could possibly find it. We went everywhere we passed, everywhere we have been; everywhere. However, we couldn't find it anywhere. I fell into despair, I was lost for words, but what could I do? Nothing at all.

What should I do? Really, I just don't know. Anxiety clouded my heart, I felt like I was growing older. What should I do? I no longer know.

19 January 1820: The Embarrassment of it all, the nerve of it.

The ball was over, and all was done. I left with my husband, who had been sleeping since midnight. He gave me the wraps that he had brought, the most modern wraps in life. I felt astounded! I had been the most beautiful woman there, and here he was, without a care, giving me something that completely clashed with my beauty.

 I always knew that Poverty and Beauty never go together. They are always two complete different worlds apart. I wanted to escape, I did not want anyone else to see me, especially the women who were enveloping themselves in costly furs.


My husband held me back, asking me to wait for him to call a cab as he was afraid that I would catch a cold. I no longer cared. I turned away and hurriedly descended the stairs. I refused to let anyone see me in this state. I looked awful, it does not suit me. Have I not told him before, to me, beauty always, and I mean always, comes first.

When we finally reached the street, we could not find a carriage and began to look for you, shouting after the cabmen passing. I was so angered, why could they not listen to us. I was to be of high class, you should answer my call and listen to me. That was what I thought. However, no matter what, they did not stop for us.


Thus, we went back to Seine on foot, shivering with cold. It was freezing, but there is nothing we could do if they did not answer us. Finally, we found those ancient night cabs which are only seen here after dark.I had rather not get in as it was so shabby, however, I was cold and tired, giving in. After that, we had finally reached back to our dwelling, back to Rue des Martyrs.

19 January 1820: The Ball at The Palace of the Ministry of Public Instruction

Just yesterday, I was at the ball at the Palace of the Ministry of Public Instruction upon the request of the Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau. I really enjoyed myself there. At the ball, I wore a magnificent gown, and the wonderful diamond necklace which I had borrowed from my friend, Madame Forestier.

This is me at the ball.

When I entered the ball, I knew I would be a great success. I saw that I was prettier, more elegant and more graceful than any woman there. I I was even remarked by the minister himself. I felt so pleased with myself. All the attaches of the Cabinet even wished to waltz with me. I felt that this was what I deserved: the beauty, the attention, everything that I had enjoyed that particular night.

I deserved it all, I wanted to grasp it, take it together with me, it was all mine. The pleasure of it, the wonders of it, everything was mine for the night.








Couples dancing a quadrille at a nineteenth-century ball.I danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all the triumph of my beauty, in the glory of my success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to a woman's heart.

Even now, I can still taste the pleasure of the victory, the pleasure of being admired by so many men. It is just too bad that all good things have to come to a end. Ah, how I wish I can experience it once again, just one more time.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

13 January 1820: Thanks for the thought.

I was thinking of all the misery I had again, all the riches and wonders that should have been given to me.

Today, when my husband came home, he was wearing a smile on his face with a triumphant air, holding a large envelope in his hand. He held it out to me, telling me that it was for me. I got shocked and surprised all at once. I had not expected it to be for me.

I quickly ripped it open, thinking it contained something like an award of sorts, or something that could save me from my miserable life. However, when I opened it, it only contained a printed card saying this: "The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honour of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th."


Those words were still ringing in my ears when I read it out to myself. I felt so stunned for a moment, then hot anger filled my face. What was my husband thinking, did he not know the excruciating pain I felt?

I threw the invitation back onto the table, muttering crossly. His reasoning to me was that he thought I would want to go out, but he knew nothing. What was I to wear? The suggestion he made was so poor, it brought tears to my eyes. I would feel so humiliated, so embarrassed. Me, wear the gown that I no longer have? How am I suppose to go to the ball like that?

I could tell my husband was in despair. I knew he was trying his best to cheer me up, but he still knew nothing of my pain. Trying to make things better, he asked how much I would need to get a gown. I gave it some thought, and told him that four hundred francs would be enough.


When I said that, I could see his face turn pale, then despair filled me again. I knew he would deny me, I knew that something like this would not work. He once told me that he was laying aside that amount to buy himself a gun. However, to my surprise, he actually agreed! He was a kind man, thinking about me before his pleasure, which every man should treat a lady.


I was grateful, but I still wondered, what could I really get with four hundred francs?

Friday, January 1, 2010

10 January 1810: Why can't you be mine?

Alas! Why does my life have to be so hard? Why do I have to suffer ceaselessly? Shouldn't I enjoy delicacies and luxuries? The bareness of the walls, shabby chairs and the ugliness of the curtains distresses me.
Shouldn't I be living in a palace illumined by tall bronze candelabra? With long reception halls hung with
ancient silk? Why can't they just be mine? 



How I wish I could have dainty dinners,of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of whispered gallantries to which you would listen with a sphinxlike smile while eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
But all these desires seem so far away.