The Manzoni Family by Natalia Ginzburg

do with those feelings that humanity condemns, and this I dare to testify by that supreme power before which man is as nothing. . . There is much I could tell you about my present situation, but so little can be said in a letter, especially things of this nature. I will just say that all the family of this angel who has gone from me have proffered every comfort and attention I could wish; and if I have suffered at the hands of one person, at least there was no personal motive involved. My friends, too, have done everything that could be done for a fellow human being in such circumstances, in particular Thierry [the historian Augustin Thierry, then twenty-seven, and very close to Fauriel], and Cousin, who chose to spend the first week of my distress with me in the country. So I lack neither friendship, nor comfort, nor attention; neither do I lack the means to lead a peaceful and independent little life. But the fact is that, by some unhappy concatenation of chance circumstances and events, my life becomes more bitter and disturbed every day. . . . There are very bitter particulars in my general misery: at present I feel quite incapable of finding distraction in any serious work, and disinclined to seek distraction outside my usual habits; which all combines to leave such scope for memories, laments, comparisons between what remains and what I have lost that I would fall into a state of discouragement and despair, if I did not create for myself a perspective which gives me strength to bear my present situation for a time, on condition that I may change it soon, or as soon as possible. I feel a pressing need, both moral and physical, to temper my shattered being in a new atmosphere, among old friends and new objects. Do you know where I have found this perspective? You will have guessed, I hope, dear friends: in your midst. To come to you, spend some time with you, find you all unchanged, and love you even more than I have done till now, work with my dear Alessandro, and at his side try to create something worthy of him, this has been for three months my fondest dream, the only one which satisfies every present need of my heart. This project, then, is the refuge and dwelling-place of my hopes. Do you approve of my plan, dear friends? you have no objections? does it appeal to you at all? The sooner you reply, the better, for in my present state my sick heart and mind need some secure resting-place. Once I have received your reply, I can discuss in more detail this delightful dream which today I can only mention in passing.’
    The phrase ‘if I have suffered at the hands of one person’ refers perhaps to Sophie de Condorcet’s daughter, Eliza, or to her husband, General O’Connor; perhaps they showed some coldness to Fauriel, or hurt his feelings in some way. Eliza had always found it hard to accept that her mother lived with Fauriel, and now that her mother was dead, perhaps a long-standing resentment erupted. Fauriel’s relations with Sophie’s family deteriorated thereafter, the ‘comfort’ and ‘attentions’ did not last long. Certainly when Sophie died Fauriel found himself in a difficult and delicate situation, made more difficult by the fact that he had no money. In all this his susceptibilities suffered. He left La Maisonnette at once and moved to a small apartment in Paris, in rue des Vieilles Tuileries, and it was from there that he was writing.
    Manzoni wrote back telling him to set off at once. Everybody was waiting for him. The house in via del Morone was in a state of confusion as they had had to bring in workmen to do repairs, but Fauriel could share the confusion with them. Besides, they were thinking of a trip to Tuscany in the spring, recommended by the doctors for Enrichetta, because the air was better there, and Fauriel could go with them. However, a year passed and Fauriel had still not stirred from Paris. In any case, the Manzonis too had put off the trip to