Leer Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 1 (of 2) online gratis (en inglés)

"Mademoiselle de Maupin, Volume 1 (of 2)" by Théophile Gautier is a novel written in the early 19th century. The book explores themes of identity, love, and societal norms, centering around the intriguing character of Madeleine de Maupin, a woman seeking adventure and freedom within the constraints of her era. The story promises to intertwine romance and existential musings, suggesting a deep exploration of human desires and the societal expectations that often accompany them." The opening of "Mademoiselle de Maupin" introduces a narrator reflecting on their monotonous life filled with routine and an underlying yearning for adventure. Despite the habitual nature of their days, the narrator is deeply aware of their dissatisfaction and restlessness, yearning for the thrill of extraordinary experiences. They describe their lack of excitement and recount the experiences of their dull servant, who has traveled the world yet lacks the sensitivity to appreciate life. This contrast highlights

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You complain, my dear friend, of the infrequency of my letters.--What
would you have me write you except that I am well and that my affection
for you never changes?--Those are facts that you know perfectly well,
and that are so natural to my age and to the noble qualities that every
one recognizes in you, that it is almost absurd to send a paltry sheet
of paper a hundred leagues to say nothing more.--In vain do I cudgel my
brains, I know of nothing that is worth the trouble of repeating; mine
is the most monotonous life imaginable and nothing happens to break the
monotony. To-day leads up to to-morrow as yesterday led up to to-day;
and without claiming to be a prophet, I can boldly prophesy in the
morning what will happen to me in the afternoon.

This is how I arrange my day:--I rise, that goes without saying, and
that is the beginning of every day; I breakfast, I fence, I go out to
walk, I come home, I dine, make a few calls or amuse myself reading:
then I go to bed precisely as I did the day before; I go to sleep, and
as my imagination is not excited by unfamiliar objects, it supplies me
with none but threadbare, often repeated dreams, as monotonous as my
actual life: all this is not very entertaining, as you see. However,
I reconcile myself to this existence better than I should have done
six months ago.--I am bored, to be sure, but in a tranquil, resigned
fashion, which does not lack a certain agreeableness, which might well
be compared to those gray, mild autumn days in which one finds a secret
charm after the excessive heat of summer.

This sort of existence, although I have apparently accepted it, is
hardly suited to me, however, or, at all events, it bears but little
resemblance to the existence I dream of and consider myself well
adapted for.--Perhaps I am mist

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