The Memoirs of Hector Berlioz
Translated by Katharine F. Boult
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The opening
I LA CÔTE SAINT-ANDRÉ
LA CÔTE SAINT-ANDRÉ
Decidedly ours is a prosaic century. On no other grounds can my wounded vanity account for the humiliating fact that no auspicious omens, no mighty portents—such as heralded the birth of the great men of the golden age of poetry—gave notice of my coming. It is strange, but true, that I was born, quite unobtrusively, at La Côte Saint-André, between Vienne and Grenoble, on the 11th December 1803.
As its name implies, La Côte Saint-André lies on a hillside overlooking a plain—wide, green, and golden—of which the dreamy majesty is accentuated by the mountain belt that bounds it on the southeast, being in turn crowned by the mystic glory of distant Alpine glaciers and snowy peaks.
Needless to say, I was brought up in the Catholic faith. This—of all religions the most charming, since it gave up burning people—was for seven years the joy of my life, and although we have since fallen out, I still retain my tender memories of it.
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About this edition
- The words
- Katharine F. Boult's English translation, copied word for word.
- Copied from
- Left out
- The source library's header, footer and license, in 3 places
- The title page and opening pages before chapter 1, in 2 places
- The printed table of contents (the app makes its own)
- Pictures and their captions, in 2 places
- A preface, foreword or afterword
- Page numbers and running heads from the printed pages
- Notes and pages added by translators, editors or publishers, in 15 places
- The index
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