Showing posts with label Les trois messes basses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Les trois messes basses. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 December 2013

Les trois messes basses

Je vous offre aujourd'hui un conte de Noël d'Alphonse Daudet. Bien entendu, il s'agit des Trois messes basses. J'ai déjà blogué sur le conte en 2009 et l'année dernière aussi. Vous trouverez le texte original ici. J'ai également trouvé l'adaptation du conte tiré de l'adaptation faite par Marcel Pagnol des Lettres de mon moulin. Dites-moi ce que vous en pensez.

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

A Christmas Tale

Merry Christmas everyone.I thought I would offer you a Christmas as a sort of blogging/virtual present. I found googling about it a short story/tale by Alphonse Daudet translated in English. It is taken from Les Lettres de mon Moulin. I have blogged about it in French before, back in 2009. The story is about a priest, Dom Balaguère tempted by the devil, who took the guise of his clerk Garrigou, on Christmas Eve to rush up the and thus mess up the three Christmas masses he needs to perform, so he could eat the Christmas supper (réveillon). It is, in other words, about the sin of gluttony. Which is an important element of Christmas. The tale is called Les trois messes basses, in Enligh it is translated by The Three Low Masses or The Three Christmas masses. You will find the story here.

Tell me what you think about it. It is my dad's Christmas Carol. When he was a child, growing up in a very Catholic Québec, he had to read it and learn the story by heart. He also had to sit through the Midnight mass before going back home to celebrate. So he understood Dom Balaguère's impatience. Even if one cannot care less about Catholic moralism (like myself), he/she can still enjoy the tale. It is a beautifully told story, atmospheric like XIXth century literature often is. You can feel the cold weather and smell the food.

Wednesday, 23 December 2009

Les trois messes basses

J'aimerais attirer votre attention sur un classique de Noël d'Alphonse Daudet. C'est sans doute mon conte préféré de Daudet, réminiscent d'une France encore frileusement catholique dans laquelle on ne pouvait envisager faire bombance sans d'abord faire preuve de piété excessive. Je n'ai jamais fait que la messe de minuit, parfois, mais mon grand-père paternel, paraît-il, faisait les trois messes basses. Il avait de la patience.