Paris: Queiroz and the Proustian Scene

In 1892, Eça had written a tale called Civilisation, whose main character, having seen everything, read everything, and tried everything, leaves town to live a simple life. Then, he reworked it to create his last novel, A Cidade e as Serras (The City and the Hills). The dialectics of modernity and tradition, of town and country life, of a mansion in Paris and a manor house in deepest Portugal, are wrought into the relationship between two friends, Jacinto and Zé Fernandes, moving between both worlds, in a manner that succeeds in not seeming artificial. Though a favourite of many enthusiasts, this is certainly not his best book, but it sheds an interesting light on the author's method.

To build-up the 'city' pages, he has introduced important scenes set in Paris, in the fashionable crowd of the Champs-Elysées (indeed, n° 202, Champs Elysées, a house number that never existed, is one of the OK codewords of travelled Queirozians). One of these scenes is a dinner party which is remarkably reminiscent of some of Proust's depictions. Or rather evocatory, because after all it was published some twenty years before 'La Recherche du Temps Perdu'. Both, however, refer to the same period and there can be no doubt that some of the incidental characters introduced by Queiroz spring from the same originals made famous by Proust. Both the bases for Charlus, (there are TWO bases, Montesquiou and Doasain) for instance, as well as Countess Greffulhe, who appear at Jacinto's dinner party, are easily recognised. Some other minor characters can also be identified with little effort.

But how did Queiroz come to know this elegant society of Paris so well? Well enough to introduce Robert de Montesquiou himself as 'a budgerigar descended from Coligny, perched on one leg.' Although he was a diplomat and a gentleman and his wife a lady of high rank, their family was too poor to keep up appearances. Their daughter recollected that they never dined out, never gave parties, and never had French guests. The probable answer is second-hand reporting. Queiroz's Portuguese and Brazilian friends were frequent visitors to the rich, bringing him information that he supplemented with newspaper accounts, especially the fashionable titbits. We must imagine him listening and taking notes, his head slightly cocked sideways, his teeth gleaming under his bushy moustache, and his dark eyes eagerly focused on the talker. Then he would patiently, meticulously, reconstruct the characters and the scenes that would be blended in his work. And again we are reminded of Proust, with his nightly callers and his bedroom littered with scribbled scraps.