文档介绍：THE MADONNA OF THE FUTURE
THE MADONNA OF
THE FUTURE
by Henry James
11
THE MADONNA OF THE FUTURE
We had been talking about the masters who had achieved but a single
masterpiece--the artists and poets who but once in their lives had known
the divine afflatus and touched the high level of perfection. Our host had
been showing us a charming little picture by a painter whose name
we had never heard, and who, after this single spasmodic bid for fame, had
apparently relapsed into obscurity and mediocrity. There was some
discussion as to the frequency of this phenomenon; during which, I
observed, H- sat silent, finishing his cigar with a meditative air, and
looking at the picture which was being handed round the table. "I don't
know mon a case it is," he said at last, "but I have seen it. I
have known a poor fellow who painted his one masterpiece, and"--he
added with a smile-- "he didn't even paint that. He made his bid for fame
and missed it." We all knew H- for a clever man who had seen much of
men and manners, and had a great stock of reminiscences. Some one
immediately questioned him further, and while I was engrossed with the
raptures of my neighbour over the little picture, he was induced to tell his
tale. If I were to doubt whether it would bear repeating, I should only
have to remember how that charming woman, our hostess, who had left
the table, ventured back in rustling rose-colour to pronounce our lingering
a want of gallantry, and, finding us a listening circle, sank into her chair in
spite of our cigars, and heard the story out so graciously that, when the
catastrophe was reached, she glanced across at me and showed me a tear
in each of her beautiful eyes.
It relates to my youth, and to Italy: two fine things! (H- began). I
had arrived late in the evening at Florence, and while I finished my bottle
of wine at supper, had fancied that, tired traveller though I was, I might
pay the city a pliment than by going vulgarly to bed