Her reputation - frequently described in French as sulfureuse, or nefarious - had evolved radically over her 81 years: The sexually liberated, gender-fluid Colette of the turn-of-the-century Parisian demimonde had turned into an eccentric traditionalist, in love with cats and cooking and the French terroir. The thousands who came to pay their respects were mourning the loss of someone whose life had been as memorable as her vast literary output. (Her friend Marcel Proust had not made the cut.) Colette had been president of the Goncourt and the Belgian Royal Academies and a recipient of the Legion d’Honneur - the highest Francophone literary honors. Her state funeral held in the main courtyard of the Palais-Royal, where she’d lived for many years, was the first for a female writer, an honor traditionally reserved for those of the stature of Victor Hugo. At the time of her death in 1954, Colette had a strong claim to the title of France’s most famous, and beloved, writer.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |