Jean Santeuil Preface Manuscript

   Having spent the autumn of 189. with one of my friends at the little beach of T. in Brittany where at that time there was nothing but one inn large enough for painters and tourists

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   Finding myself in the month of September 1895 with one of my friends at a farm in T. in Brittany, I learned that one of the people who breakfasted and dined not far away from us at the long table set up under an outhouse (because at that time T. consisted only of one single farm, hidden under apple trees, in front of the sea, far away from any other of the villages, it had already become a comfortable hotel but its owner had neither changed its name nor its farm-like appearance on the advice of the painters who came back every year, staying for the whole season and paying him in sketches, having entered sufficiently into his favour to have the right to help him make his fortune), a person 

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   This hotel an ancient farm is on a golden slope planted with apple trees that went down to the sea. Behind the farm sits the terrace, the thickly wooded hill leaving only one or two metres of even ground suddenly rising up sharply. So that if the hotel is sheltered like this from the wind this little spot situated behind buildings where a stream runs and which never receives any sunshine downstream from the hill remained eternally damp.

From Gallica, NAF 16615 2r - 3r.


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