Table of Contents
Table of Contents
SIMONE MALACRIDA
“ Three Sisters”
INDICE ANALITICO
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
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SIMONE MALACRIDA
SIMONE MALACRIDA
“ Three Sisters”
“ Three Sisters”
Simone Malacrida (1977)
Engineer and writer, has worked on research, finance, energy policy and industrial plants.
INDICE ANALITICO
INDICE ANALITICO
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
In the book there are very specific historical references to facts, events and people. These events and characters really happened and existed.
On the other hand, the main protagonists are the result of the author's pure imagination and do not correspond to real individuals, just as their actions did not actually happen. It goes without saying that, for these characters, any reference to people or things is purely coincidental.
In a quiet country village near Reims, the lives of four young friends, Julien, Charles, Philippe, and Louis are about to change profoundly.
The world they had known since their childhood is about to be overwhelmed.
Their stories will be intertwined with the course of History between the 1920s and World War II, and with the bursting development of science and technology through the discoveries of physics and mathematics.
Hand in hand, the Lagardère sisters will mark their existences, imprinting a decisive turning point on each of them.
Love and affection, unexpected mourning and sudden joys alternate in an eternal blending of events.
The unchanging rural landscape of Champagne serves as a backdrop to the struggle between freedom and dictatorship, pitting the ideals of democracy against the fanaticisms of totalitarianism.
“Not I from Olympus or from Cocytus the deaf
regi, or the unworthy earth,
and not the dying night call;
not you, last ray of the dark night,
conscious future age. Disdainful sink
appease sobs, decorate words and gifts
of coward caterva? Worse
times are rushing; and it doesn't trust
to putrid grandchildren
the honor of egregious minds and the supreme
of poor vengeance. Around me
the feathers the brown greedy nozzle rotates;
press the beast, and the nimbus
treat the unknown remains;
aura welcomes the name and memory .”
––––––––
Giacomo Leopardi " Brutus Minor "
I
I
Avize, May 1933
––––––––
“There is little to celebrate. Did you hear the proclamations of that madman?”
“Do you mean Adolf Hitler?”
“Of course, what political topic have we been talking about for months, if not years? I really don't know how my second home could freely choose those fanatics."
Julien De Mauriac finished sipping the champagne he had poured into the goblet.
"If you don't know that you're half a Kraut..."
Charles Droin was his best friend. They had grown up together in Avize, a small rural town only twenty kilometers away from Reims.
Precisely for this reason, he was the only one who could joke about such intimate facts of Julien's life.
"Will you two stop it? We are here to celebrate the 27th birthday of our friend Julien, as well as the landlord of this magnificent residence in the middle of the vineyards.
Residence of twenty-four rooms...”
“Twenty-five locals, Philippe.”
“Yes thank you, Louis, twenty-five local. You are really your father's son, precise as a pharmacist!”
"Listen to the cabinetmaker ... let's hope he doesn't give us another lesson on marquetry."
Philippe Morel and Louis Avart completed the quartet gathered in the "blue room", the most magnificent room in the official residence of the Mauriac.
Three years younger than Julien, they were respectively the son of the most sought-after cabinetmaker in the region and the son of the pharmacist in and around Avize.
Charles shared their petty bourgeois background as the son of a merchant who had made his fortune in Reims after the end of the Great War.
Conversely, Julien belonged to a very high class.
His father, Louis De Mauriac, had inherited the family's land properties and had refined the production of champagne.
His were the innovations that had allowed the Mauriac wine to climb the main classifications in the enological field.
The organoleptic properties of the champagne produced by the Mauriac had improved during the first decade of the twentieth century, becoming synonymous with absolute quality.
The limited production of those bottles, vintaged year after year, had led prices to skyrocket, making the family remarkably wealthy, especially before the Great War and in the fabulous 1920s.
The census was not the only difference between them.
Julien's mother boasted a respectable noble title.
Countess Ilda Von Trakl had always been recognized as a refined, elegant and highly cultured woman.
It was she who stimulated Julien's enormous gifts and passions and, before that, the Mauriac residence had been embellished thanks to her aesthetic taste.
“A perfect embodiment of the decadent spirit of the late 19th century”, this is how Louis De Mauriac used to describe his wife.
Ilda Von Trakl was German by birth and fully reflected the aesthetic ideal present in the books of Goethe and Mann. The sublime encounter between beauty and culture, health and honesty.
Standing up, from his height of one meter ninety, Philippe Morel proposed a toast:
“To our friend Julien and to the wish that, starting today, May 5, 1933, he will settle his mind by finding a young girl...”
The others smiled, thinking among themselves that none of the four had yet discovered what their respective parents defined with a dry term: settling down.
"In the meantime, we thank him for this bottle."
Philippe read the champagne label:
“Mauriac Pas Dosé vintage from 1924 and disgorged in 1929. Not bad I would say...”
Charles interrupted him:
“Which can certainly be counted among the best grand cru champagnes ”.
“And not only that,” Louis added, “also blanc de blancs .”
Julien smiled.
Several times he had escorted his friends to the cellars where he kept the reserve of champagne and several times he had explained to them all the operations, from the cultivation of the vineyard to the manual harvest, from the blending of the grapes to the aging process, going into the details of the caps, the seal, the glass of the bottles, the light and the ideal climatic conditions.
His father's teachings resonated with him every day.
He inherited from his mother a strong inclination towards perfectionism.
“That makes you a bit Kraut...”, Philippe used to tease him.
While from his father he had learned that entrepreneurial spirit that had manifested itself from an early childhood, as well as knowledge about the production and tasting of champagne.
“Are you sure you're not Jewish? My father says they are the best traders in the world,” had been Charles' observation over the previous years, when Julien had demonstrated an unrivaled economic flair.
They all stood up.
Philippe stood tall, while Louis, the shortest of the four, stood to one side.
His powerful physique, with broad shoulders and legs the size of logs, clashed with the profession of pharmacist, all intent on being precise with the measuring cup.
Charles and Julien were of medium height and very similar in build.
It couldn't tell they were fatty, but they weren't too dry either.
The only difference between them was their features.
Charles denoted typically Mediterranean traits. His dark hair, black eyes and olive complexion made him completely different from Julien who, with his blond hair and blue eyes, had assimilated maternal characteristics.
“Thank you my friends. Thanks for being here this day. I'm the greatest of you..."
"Old now" Philippe whispered grinning, the youngest of them all.
“...and as such I should act as a guide. But I tell you that without each of you, I would not be myself.
Without my literary, musical and political talks with Charles I wouldn't be me, even if we eliminated our heated debates."
“Yeah...we don't always think alike,” Charles pointed out.
“Without the confrontation with Philippe on a scientific level I would not feel like myself...”
“Yes, but now I can't argue anything anymore. How can I stand up to a Mathematics and Physics graduate from the Sorbonne who has known an innumerable amount of scientists?”
Philippe had felt called into question.
“And finally, without Louis and our exchange of philosophical views and the meaning of life, I could not fully be Julien De Mauriac.
Thank you because, since I don't have brothers or sisters, you are my family. A family that I have chosen and that has not been imposed on me by genetics.
This makes it even more important."
Julien raised his glass of champagne and invited his friends to drink.
The perlage of the wine went up the esophagus and throat, releasing those mysterious and velvety scents that the abbot Dom Pérignon was the first to intuit.
They set down their cups and embraced.
In Julien's memory, that was one of the happiest days of his life.
“So you don't think you'll go into science?”
Philippe was the first to interrupt that moment.
Having to be very thoughtful and patient in his daily work as a cabinetmaker, he vented his youthful vehemence outside that environment.
He had always been eager for scientific knowledge.
According to Philippe, the entire universe could have been explained with a single physical theory which, in turn, would have been based on precise mathematical foundations.
Louis, despite being a pharmacist and therefore familiar with the chemical properties and effects of certain excipients, greatly contrasted those ideas.
“We are not just an aggregate of atoms,” he used to say.
Julien swayed between the positions of his two friends.
He recognized the central importance of science, otherwise he would not have chosen that course of study.
On the other hand, he had understood how modern physical theories confronted man with purely philosophical and religious questions.
Quantum mechanics, a great theory elaborated in the first three decades of the twentieth century, was colliding with the problems of the infinitely small, in particular with what was in the most recondite part of matter: the atomic nucleus.
Conversely, Einstein's general relativity projected man to ask questions about the Cosmos and infinity.
Julien had already informed Philippe of his intentions, as early as 1929, but his friend tried every time to encourage him to continue.
“You have a natural talent for science. There is so much to discover. I'm sure that, if you put yourself into it, you could win the Nobel, like and better than De Broglie."
Louis De Broglie, the French scientist and academic, had been one of Julien's teachers during his university studies.
“No Philippe, science is wonderful and you know how much I love it, but I feel led to something else. By frequenting those environments I realized that I don't have the dedication and perseverance of a true physicist.
I am an eclectic spirit, who likes to wander through the meanders of all human knowledge.
I am interested in philosophy and music, economics and other cultures. I love to travel, but also to stay here in Avize to perfect my family's champagne.
Science, the contemporary one, requires total devotion and fidelity. There is no more room for the scholars of the past, now the great moment of specialization has arrived."
Charles sat down and lit a cigar.
“That's best if you smoked it after an Armagnac,” Julien pointed out.
“You see, dear friend, the difference is that I don't have refined tastes like yours. We should all come to class in this hall. You know how much I like it."
Charles had always been drawn to the elegance of that salon.
The central chandelier, in blue crystal, radiated a different light according to the seasons, days and times.
The sun's rays, penetrating from various angles and with different intensities, created an infinite play of reflections which bounced off the two mirrors placed on the side walls and illuminated the plaster, also blue, of the ceiling and walls.
Myriads of small lapis lazuli inlays decorated the finishes of the jambs and the majolica stove.
The writing desk, placed to one side, was upholstered in blue satin velvet, the same material that was used for the upholstery of the chairs and armchairs.
In the center of the room, just under the chandelier, there was a circular table, from which one could admire the spectacle of colours.
Charles turned to Philippe:
“Let me tell you what this madman is doing...”
He was the only one who knew about Julien's latest creation.
He pointed to the piano, placed in the extreme corner of that room.
“He's composing music that incorporates scientific theories. He's using a series of numbers to cadence the notes and is inspired by Joyce's Ulysses to mark the rests.
He has also added variations that recall the anticipations of the seven books of Proust 's Recherche .
A normal human being would never have thought such a thing, but this is Julien De Mauriac!”
Philippe looked at Julien, as if to question him.
“Okay, as soon as it's ready I'll let you hear it. Agree?"
The three friends stared at each other satisfied.
"Unless that Hitler first declares war on us," added Julien.
“But with what weapons?”
“And with what money?”
“And how will the Maginot Line we are building go through?”
The three friends agreed and were unanimous.
Germany had no arms following the Versailles treaties of 1919.
No army or soldiers.
It was also burdened by an unprecedented debt and inflationary crisis.
Julien, despite having understood the economic foundations at the base of capitalism and having seen firsthand the dramatic consequences of the Great Depression in the United States, could not understand how that industrial and productive colossus could have sunk so low.
The American crisis of 1929 also had repercussions in Europe, but in Germany it assumed an abnormal proportion.
France's problems, such as rising unemployment and wage erosion due to inflation, were insignificant compared to those of its neighboring nation.
This was known to all, moreover it seemed that the National Socialist Party had, in some way, targeted, during the previous electoral campaigns, precisely that finance which was the basis of capitalism, largely led by bankers of Jewish origin.
However, there was one thing that Julien did not take lightly, as his friends and the majority of French public opinion seemed to do.
The danger did not come from a contagion of nationalist ideas perpetrated in Germany and Italy.
democracy was not at risk and, even less, were the founding concepts of the Republic. Freedom, equality and fraternity were still the basis of daily life.
The danger came from Germany itself, or rather from the Germans.
Julien knew very well the stubbornness, the obstinate will and the determination of that people.
He knew they felt defrauded and humiliated.
And he was aware of their nature, inclined to follow orders and organization.
Within a few months of taking power, Hitler had already succeeded in outlawing the majority of parties and concentrating an inordinate amount of power on himself and on the Nazi Party.
“Now they have their strongman in charge and they will follow him to the ends of the earth.”
This was Julien's idea.
How long it had taken Germany to wake up was a mystery, but the young De Mauriac was certain.
As soon as it had the chance, the Reich would start another war.
He said nothing to his friends, not even to Charles.
He didn't want to scare them with shadows about the future, especially since the time had come for each of them to think about tomorrow.
"Let's go see the fireball."
Louis was greatly fascinated by Julien's car.
In Avize you didn't see many cars, while in Reims it was easier to meet these modern means of transport.
The majority of car owners owned national brands, among which the Renault and Citroen products stood out, in eternal competition with each other.
Very few drove foreign cars, mostly Mercedes Benz and Ford.
Nobody in the region, except Julien De Mauriac, owned a Rolls-Royce.
"The fireball", as Louis called it, was a black and white Phantom II sports version.
The elegance of the line did not affect the performance in terms of power.
One hundred and eight horses for a cylinder capacity of almost eight thousand cubic centimetres.
Louis was always amazed when Julien opened the hood where the engine was housed.
"Six cylinders in line with overhead valves, all in a single block and with an aluminum head. A marvel of technology."
Philippe and Charles, although their respective families owned a car, weren't so fanatical about the world of motors.
They made fun of Julien for his lack of nationalism:
"In short, not even French cars can you appreciate!"
Louis flew into a rage:
"You two don't understand anything. Rolls is the best there is. I don't know how the British came up with something so grand."
This kind of joke also continued on the sports ground.
Like all young people of the 1920s, the four friends had two totally pre-eminent sporting passions.
Football and cycling.
France did not shine in the game of football. The British, who boasted of having invented it, were certainly stronger.
"But the best national team is Italy, at least at European level. I saw them play when I went to that country, they are phenomenal. They have managed to integrate the so-called natives, South Americans of clear Italian origin.
They have three absolute champions like Piola, Meazza and goalkeeper Combi. A fantastic coach like Pozzo and most of them play together during the year."
Louis, who with his power was the most gifted to play football, didn't look kindly on this idolatry towards Italy.
"Yes we know Julien. This team is called Juventus and is owned by the Agnelli family, the car manufacturers of FIAT. You told us dozens of times."
Philippe and Charles agreed with him, but for political reasons.
Everyone hated fascism and Mussolini's dictatorial regime.
"Think we created it," Julien used to remember.
"We who?"
"We French. We were the ones who gave Mussolini the money to leave the Socialist Party and side with the interventionists.
The Great War had broken out and we needed Italy to open the front with the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in order to remove the divisions arrayed against us in the west. So we approached the most upstart and corruptible socialist leader. And now, here are the results."
When Julien noted down these details, the others could only agree with him on the lack of transparency of political games.
Instead, what united everyone was the passion for cycling and for French champions such as Léducq and Magne.
There had been Belgian and Italian champions who won the Tour de France, such as Thys , Lambot and Bottecchia and others who had given them a hard time like Guerra.
As was normal in those years, the majority of trips were made by bicycle and the four friends hadn't lost the habit of roaming freely up to Reims, launching sprints and sprints and simulating the deeds of these champions.
"Julien, your passion for English cars and Italian football is fine. You pass your half-German origin, but when you get on your bike and drink champagne, you're really French!"
The production of the Mauriac was the pride of Avize.
In this way, the small village could compete with very inconvenient neighbours, such as Reims and Epernay, where the most prestigious brands of the precious alcoholic beverage resided.
In addition, the Mauriac had never succumbed to fashion trends which, based on seasonal tastes, mixed champagne with spices, aromas, liqueurs and so on.
"Purity is true virtue."
In Julien, these words of his father resounded like sentences.
The four friends, after seeing the Phantom, headed by bicycle towards the vineyards, the true wealth of the Mauriac.
They stayed on the beaten road at the top of the hill, keeping to the right the slight slope where the vineyard was beginning to swell its bunches.
"So you left Paris and the science labs to come back here."
Philippe had pinned this idea.
"And he did well," Louis always stressed.
"Where is peace of mind if not in this landscape?"
The four friends lay down on the ground, with their eyes turned towards the sky.
The spring air spread everywhere bringing delicate and sweet scents.
The smell of the forest, of the ancient trees, of blackberries and currants, of flowers and honey. These were the scents which, instilled in millionth parts, were exalted only with fermentation in the bottle.
It was as if the champagne carried the imprint of the air.
Indeed, during the Great War, the great use of chemical gases had compromised the quality of those vintages.
Julien knew of no other place so suited to his character, if not Avize.
And to say that, compared to the average, he had traveled a lot.
Not only had he lived in Paris for four years and visited Brittany, Normandy, Gascony, Picardy and Provence, but he had traveled abroad several times.
He had undertaken a journey to Italy between 1920 and 1921, stopping off in the main places of that country.
Turin, Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome and Naples.
A journey to discover that culture that had fascinated him.
Of the Latin he had learned as an autodidact and of Dante's homeland.
He had returned there after his graduation, at the end of 1928, and found the country considerably changed.
The fascist dictatorship had given a very dark character to the normal Italian joy. They wanted to exalt a glorious past, but only to highlight the Duce whom Julien considered a nonentity.
Now, faced with the advent of Hitler, he trembled for Germany.
Already there were hints of something more violent.
Thousands of Jews had fled, even Einstein had gone.
From his mother's homeland, he knew Stuttgart, Munich and Berlin.
He knew he had distant cousins, but had never met them.
In general, he respected the Germans for the enormous cultural contribution they had made to Europe.
Were not the greatest philosophers of the modern era German? From Kant to Fichte, from Leibnitz to Feuerbach, from Hegel to Marx, from Schopenhauer to Nietzsche, it seemed that the dialectic was inherent in being German.
And what about the music?
Bach, Beethoven and Wagner. Three absolute idols.
And the literature? With Goethe, Schiller and Mann he had reached unparalleled heights.
Precisely for this reason, he did not understand how they could have given in to instincts, giving that flood of votes to the Nazi Party.
He had had the feeling of growing verbal violence during the 1920s and, therefore, had never traveled to that country again.
Conversely, he hugely admired the United States of America.
Although he had seen that continent shortly before its greatest economic crisis, Julien was convinced that the future would belong to that nation.
Immense spaces, almost unlimited agricultural and mineral resources, great industrial potential, distance from the main conflicts made the United States the ideal candidate for the role of world superpower.
Their entry into the final part of the Great War had been decisive, far more than English and French propaganda had made it clear.
Julien had not been fascinated by the Soviet Union and the wave of communism that had swept Europe in the early 1920s.
Although he shared most of the programs of the social democrats and although he was in agreement with the Marxist analysis of the distortions of capital, he could not understand the so-called dictatorship of the proletarian.
In the opinion of the young Mauriac, the lack of democracy had proved completely ineffective in solving the problems of the proletariat, giving way only to an immeasurable personal power.
Louis's family had always had sympathies for the communists, but these had weakened after the French left-wing parties, mainly the socialists and social democrats, denounced the conditions of absolute lack of freedom in the Stalinist Soviet Union.
For this reason, Julien was not attracted to the idea of visiting Eastern European countries.
He hadn't gone beyond Berlin and Vienna.
In any case, after all the previous wanderings, after immersing himself in ancient and modern cultures, after studying Italian, English, German and Spanish language and literature, the young Mauriac had felt the powerful call of his land.
He fondly remembered his childhood, spent running on the lawns and establishing those friendships that had still remained unbreakable.
That light-heartedness of his first eight years would never return, not only for the end of that magical period, but for the outbreak of that war which should have lasted only a few months, while instead it shocked the entire continent, if not the whole world. .
World War, they had called it. With all capital letters.
The early twentieth century was an exact continuation of the previous century.
Julien later realized that the new Century had been inaugurated in the trenches, only a few kilometers away from Avize.
In those years, life became gloomy and little Mauriac spent more time at home, dedicating himself to his studies and highlighting his enormous talents.
His mother urged him to play the piano to drown out the noise of war.
His father, incredulous of the continental slaughter, followed him step by step in his progress.
The 1920s were not a rehash of what came before.
By now that aristocratic society had been swept away by millions of dead and the Bolshevik revolution.
Thus, clinging to his memories, Julien had decided to return to his native village, among its vineyards and its champagne.
He had never regretted that choice, least of all on his twenty-seventh birthday.
Lying in the meadows, his eyes wide open staring at nothing, he stood there talking with his lifelong friends, waiting for the sunset.
Only at the end of that day would he go to see his parents.
The tombstones of Louis De Mauriac and Ilda Von Trakl had been placed in an isolated corner of the Avize residence.
Under an ancient oak that bordered the southwest corner, the two effigies of Julien's parents stood out against the whiteness of the marble.
The two bodies had rested there for almost eleven years.
A road accident, a head-on with a means of transport for goods, had put an end to the life of the Mauriac spouses, on a day in the summer of 1922.
Julien was only sixteen and, from that moment, he would have had to fend for himself, enduring enormous pressure deriving from his social status and his wealth.
He didn't lose heart and got busy, helped and refreshed by his lifelong friends.
"Hi mom, hi dad."
Thus ended that day.
In the following weeks, the German political situation became clearer.
All the worst forecasts were met, indeed exceeded by far.
"There will be no more elections in Germany."
Julien's certainty had soon become a shared thought, above all after the book burnings which, fomented by Hitler's loyalists, were spreading in every city.
“ Whoever burns books will sooner or later burn men too ”.
Julien trembled as he reread that quote from Heine.
The French government began to give a major boost to funds for the definitive construction of the Maginot Line. In general, Julien felt that the Western powers were sleeping too soundly.
America was gripped by very strong internal problems.
Roosevelt's election had been greeted with enormous joy, but his program, called the " New Deal ", had to come up against a very delicate social situation.
Unemployment and poverty had clearly spread and organized crime had spread widely within society, controlling entire cities and completely corrupting the police departments.
For this reason, Julien had promised himself to return to the United States, if only to experience those changes first-hand and see first-hand the industrial innovations they were introducing.
The inventiveness and desire for enterprise of those people were something extraordinary, a lost side of Europe that had by now forgotten the pioneering spirit of the frontier.
Checking the state of the vines daily, consulting with his farmer Pierre Houlmont, Julien kept himself informed on the evolution of his production.
A passage through the cellars in the early afternoon brought him into contact with that magical world of champagne fermentation.
Ritual gestures, performed every day bordering on perfection, accompanied the growth of that heritage.
"Man can only make worse what Nature is very good at."
His father's saying had been engraved at the entrance to the cellar to remind us that all manufacturing processes had to be as non-invasive as possible.
Julien personally took care of accounting and investments, after all that had been his strong point.
He had repeatedly received job offers from banks who had asked him to take care of their investments, but he had declined these offers.
Just as he didn't feel like a scientist, despite his double degree in Mathematics and Physics, he didn't think he was an economist or a financier.
In the evenings, after reading, he devoted himself to music.
It was his way of completely disconnecting from the rest of the world.
Playing the piano and composing free notes, his mind hovered above the everyday, transcending the present and the present.
Towards the end of May he had finished perfecting his latest creation.
As agreed, he summoned his friends to the blue room on Saturday 27 May.
They would all spend an evening together, as often happened.
Charles, despite having visited the Mauriac house thousands of times, was always amazed when he entered the blue room.
"Your mother had a truly sublime idea. It vaguely recalls Giotto's blue, a mix between the Upper Basilica of Assisi and the Scrovegni Chapel."
Charles was the only one of Julien's friends who had traveled nearly as much as he.
He was a profound connoisseur of Italy, perhaps better than the young Mauriac himself.
They sat comfortably on the sofa awaiting Julien's execution.
"I still haven't understood the meaning of this music. I wrote it by finding the notes I don't know where. I have no idea what intonation to give, whether that of a triumph, a march or a dirge."
In fact, that exactly ten-minute sonata had no title.
Finding titles is the hardest thing in the world. It means truly understanding what has been done and condensing it into a few words.
Julien began placing his fingers on the white keys of the piano.
Each of the three friends listened to that melody that pervaded the environment.
Where did those notes come from? How had he put them together in such mathematical rhythm?
Nobody explained it.
Pauses and fugues, leitmotifs and virtuosity alternated.
It was something vaguely familiar.
Charles thought of Italy, literature, Dante and Rostand, Proust and Mann, Joyce and Kafka. And then Chopin and Beethoven.
For Philippe the link with Einstein's relativity and with quantum mechanics was evident, that music ranged from the infinite to the infinitesimal.
On the other hand, Louis recognized the philosophical purity of Kantian and Hegelian thoughts, but at the same time the irrationality of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer and the great mastery of Socrates.
Halfway through the execution, everyone wandered through their memories.
Charles glimpsed his father's shop, filled with every possible merchandise.
His parents taking stock, his brothers playing hiding in their clothes and finally the countryside around Avize. Bike rides and football matches with friends.
Philippe materialized in front of him his family's study and the intense smell of wood and impregnating agent.
That time he dived into the pond near Reims and escapes after stealing grapes from the fields.
Louis sensed the different artificial aromas of medicinal components and he pictured himself climbing trees as a child, trying to see further until, at the age of eight, he finally managed to see Reims Cathedral.
Towards the end of the composition, the three friends began to wander in their respective dreams.
Undefined figures of women, childish faces and female forms, fawn hair in the wind and golden ringlets, white skins and reddish lips.
Newborn babies and the progress that was soon to come.
When Julien lifted his hands from the keyboard, none of the three friends really understood that the music was over.
Those notes remained in the air as if they still echoed in everyone's mind.
Only after about twenty seconds, they plunged back into the real world.
How long had it been?
They didn't know. Maybe a second, maybe a lifetime, maybe centuries.
Yet it was only ten minutes. Six hundred seconds exactly, not one more, not one less.
Julien expected some comment, perhaps applause or criticism, but no one was able to utter a word.
It was as if they had come face to face with their own ego, with memories and the future, with consciousness and will.
They looked at each other and each seemed to have an aura of bliss.
They said nothing.
Julien understood and did not want to question them.
That music hadn't had any effect on him, it was as if he were immune to that intrigue of notes.
He looked out on the balcony overlooking the blue room to admire the landscape of Avize.
Everything seemed so immutable, but it was pure illusion.
Every inhabitant of those areas knew very well what had happened during the war.
Their world had been wiped out, Reims had been reduced to ashes, including the Cathedral, where almost all Capetians were crowned and where Joan of Arc realized her vision.
That rural balance, which rightly boasted of one of the most valuable productions in the world, was so precarious.
The Great War had completely changed the scenario.
After those five years of massacre, it became evident that technology had come up with increasingly deadly and invasive weapons.
Not only cannons with immense range, but tanks, armored personnel carriers, submarines and aircraft would carry the war everywhere.
The civilian population, already severely affected between 1914 and 1918, would no longer be safe anywhere.
Perhaps that music had served Julien to remove the specter of violence, embodied in his opinion by the evil influence of National Socialism.
His friends followed in respectful silence.
Unlike the other evenings, nobody wanted to talk about international political events.
They didn't want to spoil the atmosphere that had been created.
There was a bustle in the distance towards the residence which, before the War, had belonged to Count Beualieu .
It was an ancient residence surrounded by a secular park.
A part of this park had been sold to raise cash, together with all the land holdings.
In 1916, during the second winter of the war, the last descendants of the Beaulieu family had moved to Paris, leaving the house, which remained uninhabited until 1922.
Taken over by a wealthy citizen of Reims, it was transformed into a country house, but little used by the new owner.
The same went bankrupt in 1931, due to debts incurred during the first phase of the economic crisis.
At the beginning of 1933, the bankruptcy auction had assigned the property to a lawyer from Brittany, a certain François Lagardère.
The lawyer had probably used his bankruptcy court experience to make a good deal.
From that moment, during the weekend, the lawyer Lagardère made a visit to Avize to monitor the renovation works and to coordinate the moving activities.
The previous day, Friday 26 May 1933, he had definitively moved with his family to the residence, immediately renamed as "Lagardère House".
The lawyer allegedly practiced in and around Reims, taking advantage of practically non-existent competition.
To give prestige to his family, he had organized a reception open to almost all the inhabitants of Avize.
Julien and his friends had been invited, as had most of the families of a certain class.
It was said that the lawyer had spared no expense, either in furnishing the house or in organizing the reception.
Philippe's father had been commissioned a writing desk and an inlaid dining table, both of inestimable value.
Julien had been contacted by the solicitor's jack of all trades to supply three cases of Mauriac champagne.
An order of this type was not seen so often, above all because the majority of the Mauriac production was already booked year after year by loyal customers and connoisseurs scattered all over the world.
In Avize there was nothing but talk of the Lagardère family, at least in recent weeks.
It was a frivolous subject, ideal for taking the mind off the dark omens emanating from the Reich.
Perhaps for this reason, the four friends, intent on admiring the quiet of Avize's evening, found a common consensus when speaking of that reception.
"So tomorrow we will meet our new fellow citizens..." Charles began.
"I've already seen the lawyer," Philippe ruled.
"He's a middle-aged man, totally bald, but with a long, well-kept moustache. He always dresses elegantly and uses polished language. He's come to my father's studio."
Julien added the description of his encounter with the factotum.
"Three cases of Mauriac Pas Dosé ?"
Louis didn't believe what the landlord said.
"Precisely."
"And what vintage?"
Julien shrugged.
"Those kind of people don't care about the vintage. They just want to have the best name of each stock. I gave them a case of each of the last few vintages."
Charles tried to enliven the discussion:
"They say he had this reception because he has to place his three daughters...they are of marriageable age."
They all smiled.
"The eldest is my age and her name is Sylvie," added Louis.
"They say she's an extraordinary beauty. With long red hair and eyes as green as spring meadows."
"You are well informed!!", commented Charles.
"The youngest daughter has just turned eighteen. My sister says her name is Sophie and the father regards her as the smartest person he knows."
Philippe intervened with his vehemence:
"Well...said by the father, one must understand the significance of this statement. However, you too, Charles, got information!"
Snorting for deep breaths, he continued:
"The middle sister, Laure, they say she talks like they did in the 19th century. At least that's what my mother told me when she heard it from the neighbor."
They had been in Avize for less than a day, but everyone already seemed to know those three sisters.
Indeed, no one had met or glimpsed them, and all impressions were based on rumors from a farming village.
"I see their fame preceded them and you've all been informed. Am I the only one who doesn't know anything about them?"
Julien joked with his friends.
"Three sisters...the father will spend an immense sum for the dowries!"
They laughed.
Charles noted:
"Three sisters looking for husbands and we are four men looking for wives. What do we deduce from this?"
He turned to the others waiting for an answer.
"That at least one of us will be left without!"
Philippe always knew how to be the one with the joke ready.
"No dear friend, you overestimate our love skills. Instead I stop at pure reality and therefore I deduce: but why did they stop at the third one?"
Louis added a touch of his natural sarcasm every time.
The evening had given way to the darkness of the night, the late May air still felt the freshness of spring.
It wouldn't be like that for much longer. In a few weeks, the heat would be pressing.
It was what was needed for the grapes to ripen.
The eternal cycle of Nature would have imprinted some minimal differences compared to the previous year until the fermentation in the bottle would not have revealed that change, infusing the champagne of that vintage with a completely unique touch.
In anticipation of those events, the four friends retired to savor some cognac.
Their spirits were happy and sweet, they had witnessed sublime music being played and they had become intoxicated by the landscape of Avize.
"See you tomorrow."
Julien took leave of them by closing the main door of the Mauriac residence.
Before going to bed he thought it was just a reception, probably very similar to those he had attended in Paris.
As at those parties, there would be pretty girls and comely women.
After all, those three sisters would not have changed much his life, his friendships and the natural course of events.
II
II
Avize - Reims - Paris, summer-winter 1918
––––––––
"War was decided in Amiens."
That phrase did not cause any sensation in twelve-year-old Julien De Mauriac, despite his father's utterance.
It had already been four years that adults took turns expressing phrases of that type.
Only the names of cities or rivers changed.
It was August 9, 1918 and that day was a real triumph for France and its allies.
As many as ten divisions were employed with over five hundred tanks, the new weapons that the British had been able to field.
The German front seemed to collapse, retreating almost twenty kilometers.
For years they had fought for the so-called no man's land, a handkerchief of land that separated the enemy trenches.
Well, the trench.
The true symbol of that conflict, together with mud and gas.
The extreme proximity of the front had caused irreversible damage to Reims.
Most of the city had been destroyed, including the famous cathedral.
Julien remembered very well how splendid the center of Reims was before the war and he jumped when, a year after the beginning of that massacre, he went there with his father.
Everything seemed unrecognizable.
"It is war, the worst human invention", so Louis De Mauriac had tried to explain the situation.
In Avize, his country of origin and residence, the climate was not good.
It was true that the destruction of buildings was not so evident, given that it was a small rural village, but many inhabitants had moved elsewhere, leaving all their properties , just to escape the imminent danger of the enemy.
"What does it mean that the Germans are enemies of France?"
At the age of eight, Julien asked his parents for this simple reality.
In the eyes of a child, it was not clear what the word war and the word enemy meant.
His mother was German and his father French, but there had always been a peaceful and loving atmosphere in the family.
During those four years, having ascertained the dangers of traveling to Reims, Julien was educated privately at the Mauriac house.
At her own expense, Ilda Von Trakl had set up a kind of school for the children of Avize, no more than twenty, overcoming the reluctance of a certain part of the population who saw her simply as a foreigner, or much worse, "a kraut".
Among them were Julien's friends such as Charles, Louis and Philippe.
Young Mauriac's education continued through lessons taught by his father and mother.
Julien was endowed with an unparalleled perspicacity and soon surpassed adults in the knowledge of many subjects, mainly scientific ones.
His father noticed this and decided to indulge the nature of the little one.
It provided him with textbooks in mathematics, physics and chemistry at the high school level.
Julien was not discouraged and, at the age of twelve, he already knew all the basic scientific foundations for obtaining a diploma.
For her part, Ilda introduced him to the knowledge of languages and cultures.
Bilingualism was completely natural for Julien. From the first years of his life, he chose, on the basis of the interlocutor, whether to answer in French or in German.
His mother understood how, having developed this great flexibility, he could learn both Romance languages, such as Spanish and Italian, and English.
Her son lived up to expectations and assimilated most of the grammar rules and vocabulary.
Once the war was over, a period of improvement would have been enough for the boy to use those languages with ease.
Furthermore, Ilda Von Trakl made sure that her son knew the concept of the beautiful and the sublime.
How to alienate a child from the terrible logic of war?
By making him study what humanity had been able to conceive.
Ilda's mastery of piano playing was renowned. She had brought a masterfully tuned instrument as a dowry and had it placed in the blue room, her favorite room.
She practiced for a couple of hours every day and soon got her son involved.
Julien answered egregiously. His little fingers glided over the keys, without detracting from the incisiveness of the notes.
Ilda's immense culture was instilled in the little one in increasing doses.
Alongside the music, there was everything that was considered "classical".
Poetry, literature and theatre.
So Julien was introduced to the magical world of fantasy and imagination.
At twelve he knew most of the Latin, Greek and Germanic mythological traditions.
The Nibelungs and Homer, Virgil and Aeschylus.
His mother had taken steps to make those stories understandable, reading them to her son like fairy tales before going to sleep.
Ilda had encouraged Julien to compose little stories or verses or music:
"You have to make your mark on the world."
So she admonished him.
In the little time left to leisure, Julien would have liked to relive the raids that, before the war, he carried out together with Charles.
The fact that they were only a year apart had cemented their friendship.
Unquestionably they considered themselves the "leaders" of that small band of children in which Louis and Philippe were subordinates.
Louis' physical bulk, already massive at an early age, and Philippe's height, considerably above average, rebalanced the roles within that group of friends.
Before the war, there were no restrictions on the escape of these children.
They could freely move among the meadows, woods and vineyards, having direct experience of nature and animals.
With the outbreak of the conflict, their movements were severely restricted.
In the winter season and during the rainy season they spent most of their time indoors, intent on learning as much as possible.
"When the war is over, a new world will open up and you will have to be ready", was the main warning of Louis De Mauriac.
In spring and summer, however, there was a significant danger from shelling and unexploded bombs.
Despite this, the four friends managed to escape the control of adults and carve out, at least in part, a slice of rural playfulness.
During the spring of 1918 they had witnessed the second tragic moment of the conflict.
As in 1915, the Germans had risked breaking through the front.
This was no longer due to the propulsive phase of the first year of the war, in which Ludendorff's tactics had allowed the Germans to advance, but to the consequences of the closure of the eastern front.
Russia, after the October Revolution, had stipulated a peace with the Central Powers allowing the latter to pour troops to the West.
Italy had almost given in with a crash and the divisions of that country had had to settle on the Piave, almost three hundred kilometers from the initial front which coincided with the Isonzo.
The pressure on France was very strong, only partially contained by the new British aid and the fresh American contingent.
But that summer brought the real situation to light.
The German troops, worn out by four years of conflict, were on their last legs and with increasingly obsolete means.
The British air force had made great progress, as had the Italian and French ones.
Also, the British had brought tanks into the field.
The Central Powers seemed to suffer from an insurmountable technology shortage, despite the Krupps having forged the superguns.
Furthermore, there was widespread discontent within them.
The Bolshevism virus had spread to German cities, directly undermining the very motivations of the conflict. There was talk of an imminent uprising, strikes and political upheavals that would put an end to the Kaiser's status quo.
More than any other event, the battle of Amiens opened the possibility for a sudden turn.
Only a week later, the Allied offensive regained strength and by the end of August the Germans had returned to the positions of the previous spring.
All their effort had been in vain in less than a month.
Now it was a question of delivering the final blow, of crossing that Hindenburg line which was considered impassable.
"Starting next year we will be able to produce an excellent quality champagne. It will be the champagne of victory!"
Louis De Mauriac had launched into that prediction and considered that the time had come to educate his son about the secrets of that production.
"Everything begins and ends with the earth. This is the first rule: remain faithful to the earth," she said to Julien as she led him among the vines.
"You see, grapes are like the human spirit. They absorb everything around them. The noises, the scents, the climate, the humidity, the soil."
So Julien learned how to cultivate vines, how to keep them tall, how to prune them, how to remove superfluous leaves and what fertilizers to use.
"The ground should be slightly steep, but not too much. And you always have to take measurements to probe the acidity, friability and so on."
Louis De Mauriac used to take small handfuls of earth and bring them home.
In the laboratory, equipped and managed by himself, he carried out those rudimentary chemical analyses.
"The whole year is condensed into the harvest. Everything we do is aimed at that one goal."
The vineyards had to be prepared for the winter and for the following season, selected and renewed.
Almost a tenth of the cultivation always had to be replaced from year to year, in order to avoid generalized aging.
"New vines will not immediately give suitable grapes and that is why they must be cared for to perfection."
All the grapes were of a single quality, that of pinot blanc de blancs .
"Besides respecting the land, you have to respect the people."
Louis De Mauriac treated his farmer, Pierre Houlmont , as if he were a younger brother.
The Mauriac family was reputed to be the one with the highest wages in the area.
"The champagne harvest must be done by hand and therefore you have to trust the people who put their hands on your vineyard."
Julien's father regarded the champagne producers as artists.
"Every gesture of theirs must be perfect. Only in this way have we obtained our indisputable quality."
Julien learned that information and began to relate to those people.
Despite the war and the poor production and quality of those years, Louis De Mauriac refused to leave even one of those people at home.
"I will lose my money, but I owe these people my wealth. What kind of man would I be if now I said to them: I don't need you anymore? And then, they will return to being fundamental for us. When all this nonsense is over, we will start producing again and to be the best. We need them."
For this reason, he had written directly to the French government ministers to allow those people not to be employed for military purposes, either on the battlefield or in the war industry.
The notoriety of the Mauriac brand and some conspicuous bribes succeeded in the desired intent.
Julien was strongly attracted by what happened in the cellars, by the manufacturing and fermentation process.
"First you will learn from the earth, only later will you understand what man has done."
His father, not yet entirely convinced of Julien's great learning faculties, had fixed the stakes of that training in the family industry.
After all, little Mauriac was still a twelve-year-old boy.
The month of September 1918 brought not only the last wartime harvest, but an absolute novelty on the Western Front.
The Hindenburg Line finally gave way.
Americans, Canadians, Australians, British and French attacked several times and on different points until they convinced the German high command that the war was, for them, irretrievably lost.
Faced with that observation, the Germans reacted in contrasting ways.
Riots broke out in the cities. The trade unions, the socialists and the so-called Spartacists demanded an immediate end to the conflict and the removal of the Kaiser.
Perhaps Germany would have headed for a republican democracy. It was everything the West hoped for.
There was doubt, however, that they embraced the Bolshevik revolution.
What would the future look like if a nation like Germany sided with Lenin, after throwing him against the Tsar to get Russia to withdraw from the conflict?
However, the soldiers, those at the front, did not give a single meter.
They defended themselves stubbornly, inflicting heavy casualties on their allies.
"Why do they keep fighting? Why don't they go to our region?"
Louis De Mauriac did not understand that stubbornness and the fact that he still wanted to rage against Reims.
His wife tried to make him understand the German nature:
"For four years they had an order. Now they don't feel like challenging it and admitting that they were wrong to believe those claims."
Louis didn't understand.
"But don't they realize that then they will be hated even more?
What do they expect from peace conditions? They have unleashed an epic war and are losing it.
I think France and England will make terms humiliating for Germany."
Faced with the possible normalization of the situation, Julien's parents understood that the time had come to lay a solid foundation for their son's education.
"As early as Christmas he could be attending the last year of primary school to qualify and be able to enroll in high school next year."
The little boy's talents left no room for doubt.
He displayed his best skills in science and was fond of the classics.
High school would have been the ideal gym.
"You will learn Latin and, if you want, also Greek."
His mother began teaching him one of the most important lessons in life:
"Not everyone has been as lucky as you. Do you understand? Not everyone has been able to study like you did and live peacefully during the war. Many no longer have a home or their loved ones have died. Many have not been able to study. You must not consider yourself superior to them, but you must try to help them, even when they insult you or push you aside."
Ilda Von Trakl was aware of two aspects that could disturb her son's adolescence.
She knew her German heritage would be seen as a possible threat.
Even before the war, nationalist and revanchist sentiment was very present in France. He didn't dare imagine after that terrible experience.
The years since 1914 had been lived thinking almost exclusively of the present and of survival.
Despite this, some voices of contempt towards her had been expressed.
She could not fathom what would happen when the war ended in victory for France. The winner's reasons, combined with the pain suffered and such vast destructions, could have unleashed a basic hatred towards everything that derived in the least from the German people.
And her son Julien had half German blood.
Besides, she was certain that the boy's extraordinary talents could be a double-edged sword. They could have isolated him from the others, as everyone would have perceived him as different.
Fortunately, Julien had made friends with those three children.
Charles, Louis and Philippe were well known to the Mauriac family and Ilda encouraged her son's association with them.
Those final two months of the war seemed to not exist, yet many soldiers died during those last battles.
The Germans, although demoralized, did not break and continued to fight until 11 November, the appointed day of surrender.
How this behavior was explained was a mystery.
Italy had unexpectedly resisted on the Piave line and launched a deadly counterattack, pursuing the Austrians and forcing them to surrender as early as November 4th.
By that time, it must have been clear to all German soldiers that defeat was inevitable.
What was the point of continuing?
Yet, only on that final day did the last shots in the Champagne region cease.
Finally it was all over.
And France had won!
An immense joy pervaded the village of Avize.
Louis De Mauriac went to embrace his family and each of his employees. He offered them food and drink.
Julien went in search of his friends. Now they could enjoy the countryside and the city, returning to play as they had done up until 1914.
It was all a waving of tricolor flags and smiles.
The same scenes were seen the following day in Reims, when almost all the inhabitants of Avize poured into the city to ascertain the damage.
Although most of the buildings had been destroyed, although nothing but rubble remained of that glorious cathedral, there was the certainty of a rosy future. Reconstruction began and that spirit was instilled which then became the common matrix of the 1920s.
"We'll redo the Cathedral, exactly as it was before. So much for those Krauts!"
"They'll have to pay for it along with all the damage they've done."
Those expressions denoted how widespread was the desire for revenge on the people who had unleashed the war.
Louis De Mauriac was all intent on preparing the return to the trade of Mauriac champagne on a grand scale.
Now that there were no more naval obstacles, due to the continental blockade and the sinking of many merchant ships by the German Navy, one could think of establishing a direct relationship with the United States.
In his view, that nation represented the future in economic and industrial terms.
"They haven't been touched by the war and there are rich industrialists who want to have the best of everything."
In addition, England and France would again begin to consume large quantities of champagne of excellent quality.
He planned a trip to Paris in the days following the end of the conflict.
What better occasion to take your family with you?
Julien was used to traveling. Before the war he had been in Italy and much of France.
Of Paris, he remembered only the majesty and grandeur of the buildings, monuments and streets.
The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Champs Elysees, the residence of the Tuileries had been for that child like a materially realized world of dreams.
When they returned from the capital, he would explain the secrets of champagne processing to his son, effectively opening his own succession.
Since Julien's birth, it was clear to everyone that this little human being would have to take over the reins of the family.
Doctors first diagnosed Ilda Von Trakl as infertile, then ruled that she could not have any more children.
The complications of that pregnancy had marked her in the deepest gift of being female: that of being able to host a new life.
Louis De Mauriac had suffered a lot, perhaps more than his wife.
He was a staunch supporter of meritocracy and did not like to bequeath his industry just because a child bore the same surname as him.
"He will have to be able to manage the Mauriac brand and take it where I failed. He will have to improve my work, not throw it away."
Luckily, Louis' fears seemed unfounded.
Julien had proved, at least up to the age of twelve, much better than the most optimistic forecasts, allowing a glimpse of potential far beyond that of his own father.
In less than a week, Louis De Mauriac had organized a perfect tour of the capital, scheduling visits to embassies, ministries and financial headquarters.
His greatest gift had always been that of promptness and entrepreneurship.
Julien and his mother would have time to visit Paris and would be present at the gala dinners.
In a few days, the picture was complete.
In the United States there was a strong propensity towards prohibition. That decision could have jeopardized future trade, but so far Louis had managed to strike important deals.
Things went better on the English side and on the French side.
"The homeland needs people like you. They must feel the pride of being French and what better encouragement than a glass of excellent champagne?"
The opinion of the upper echelons was almost unanimous.
Julien, now more mature than on his first visit to Paris, let himself be enchanted by that city.
It would certainly have returned to being the ville lumière , the luminous capital of European technology and culture.
His mother Ilda was a perfect guide. She knew Paris much better than most French people.
During the gala evenings, Ilda's beauty stood out clearly.
Her speech had a non-French accent. Over the years, she had managed to disguise her German heritage so she was now generally mistaken for a Dutch woman.
On Louis' advice, she introduced herself as Ilda Van Trakl.
Having changed only one vowel of his surname made it possible to avoid unpleasant inconveniences.
"You'll see, it will only be for a short time, then this anti-German sentiment will pass."
By the end of November they were back in Avize with good news for the entire Mauriac family.
In January, just after the Christmas holidays, Julien would start attending school in Reims, as would all his friends.
There were now only two thoughts in the minds of French citizens.
Overcoming the dark years of the war, rebuilding as quickly as possible and forgetting the terrible mourning, and be compensated conspicuously by the Germans.
In addition to material damage, the defeated should have compensated for the millions of human lives lost.
Louis De Mauriac decided to educate his son about the processing of champagne.
"We only use the classic method, called champenoise .
The harvest is anticipated to give greater acidity and give freshness to the wine, keeping the aromas of the vine unaltered."
In this the knowledge that Pierre Houlmont had acquired on the Mauriac estates was entirely fundamental.
Only with the farmer's assent did Louis De Mauriac start the harvest.
Julien had personally witnessed many harvests and had noticed that the bunches were delicately placed on low crates and that these, not excessively full, were quickly transported to the cellar.
All in order not to lose the characterizing aromas.
The grapes were softly pressed in order to obtain a must, called flower, which was stored for a maximum of one day in steel tanks at a temperature of four degrees Celsius.
The absolute perfection of those moves was necessary to ensure the excellent quality of the wine.
Enzymes are deposited inside the tanks to ensure that the solid particles of the must settle on the bottom.
The wine is then racked off and brought to a temperature of sixteen degrees Celsius.
"It is here that we add the pied de cuve , i.e. a mixture of yeasts, sugars and more that allows the first fermentation. The exact composition of the pied de cuve is a secret that must not be disclosed. Up in the laboratory I have the exact formula."
After two weeks, the wine is fermented and stabilized in a special tank.
"After this process, everything is ready for refermentation in the bottle."
Louis De Mauriac threw open the door to the main cellar and, in front of his son, that magical world, full of aromas and tradition, opened up.
The production of the Mauriac was known for the cuvée , that is the blending of grapes from different vintages. A very particular cuvée as it did not blend much from previous years, but it was not absent either.
Generally, over ninety percent came from the same harvest, deserving the title of vintage. The blend of other vintages served only to give particular aromas to the wine.
"Here it rests for five years before being placed on the market."
Julien learned that the wine, before being refermented in the bottle, had to be "pulled".
"We add a blend of wine with cane sugar and yeast. We have to compact the lees. Think that the pressure will reach six atmospheres. As you can well understand, the composition of the liqueur de tirage is secret."
The bottling takes place in particular bottles, the sciampagnotte, with thicker and darker glass than usual and with a characteristic internal curvature on the bottom.
The first closure is done with a crown cap.
"This is the bidule ."
Louis De Mauriac pointed to a small plastic cylinder placed under the cap.
"Lees will accumulate here."
Louis De Mauriac entered an immense new salon.
"And it is in this place that wine becomes champagne. The prise de mousse ."
The foam precisely.
Julien saw hundreds of bottles stacked horizontally in a cellar where temperature and humidity were constant all year round.
No vibrations, no smells, no noises, very little light.
"Here is the second fermentation. It takes place in the dark and in silence."
The rest is just vigilant waiting.
Aging on the lees is a very delicate operation.
The perlage of the champagne is very clearly affected.
"What goes on in those bottles is a mystery. Chemistry has only partially explained those processes involving the transformation of sugar and yeast into ethanol and carbon dioxide. Hydrolytic enzymes that degrade cellular components and so on. Upstairs I have some entire treatises which I hope you will read with pleasure."
A very intriguing challenge for Julien: understanding Nature through well-defined scientific processes.
"During these years of waiting we have to prevent the lees, the residue of dead yeasts, from sticking to the walls of the bottle. For this we give the bottles a couple of shakes and, just once, we unpack the stack of bottles to redo it in another point in the cellar."
The most curious operation in the eyes of little Mauriac was that of remuage .
He couldn't believe that, every day, people would pass by the cellar to rotate all the bottles an eighth of a turn.
"On those trestles, the bottles are tilted more and more and the rotation goes from an eighth to a quarter turn. After two months, all the lees are close to the cork."
At that point, the final phase is that of disgorgement.
"That is the moment of truth. The lees must be removed because they would make the champagne not clear."
You have to totally trust the technician who disgorges the bottle on the fly, i.e. uncorks the bottle, causes the residue to splash out with the lees and promptly re-corks the bottle.
"It has to be fast, but not too fast."
Julien learned that, for wine, disgorgement is a tremendous shock.
"Imagine being there, ready to be uncorked at six atmospheres. Someone alters the balance for a few seconds and then expects everything to go back to normal."
After disgorgement, it takes three months to restore the initial conditions.
"Before putting champagne on the market we have to dose it with a syrup. And this is the difference between us and almost everyone else. We dose it very little, in fact our Mauriac is a Pas Dosé .
Other producers lengthen it with a lot of sugar or with cognac or with compositions that vary from year to year.
We do not. We are the Mauriac and we are traditionalists. For this, we are the best."
The last room of the immense cellar was full of cork stoppers and the corresponding metal cages that are placed to prevent the cork from popping, pushed by the internal pressure of the champagne.
"We mustn't underestimate the importance of the cork. If you take one of poor quality, it affects all the work done. The air damages the purity of the champagne, so the cork must be elastic and robust."
Finally, the last operation concerned marketing.
The label with all possible information and the Mauriac brand.
A golden M on a black background.
Generally the bottles were not sold loose, but in special wooden cases.
The single bottle was placed inside a wooden container internally padded with blue velvet.
The other cases were for three, six or twelve bottles.
Only for particular occasions or for special customers were different packages or bottles of different shapes used.
These manufacturing processes were very similar from manufacturer to manufacturer, but Louis De Mauriac wanted to make the central point understood:
"It's the details that make the difference. Perfection is only achieved if we don't interrupt the normal natural flow."
The final proof was given only when the bottle was opened and tasted.
It had long been renowned that there were foods that exalted some of the qualities of champagne.
Fish in general, crustaceans and molluscs in particular, emphasized the lightness of the alcoholic drink.
On the other hand, the cured meats and cheeses reflected its full-bodied soul, that virile part of champagne.
The fruit revived those mysterious scents of the woods. Blackberries, raspberries and strawberries knew how to reawaken certain sensations of spring and summer.
Bees and wheat, acacias and honey.
Louis De Mauriac did not understand those who combined champagne with baked desserts. For him, it was an immense sacrilege.
The only concession it allowed was the use combined with spoon delicacies, creams of all kinds, especially the chocolate mousse.
Unlike the famous abbot who had started the production of champagne, Louis De Mauriac was by no means a teetotaler.
He was always the first to taste the number one bottle of each vintage.
He did not consider himself an expert winemaker, there had been many at the Mauriac residence and Louis had convinced himself that they had almost divinatory abilities.
Ilda Von Trakl had never dealt with the family industry, not even from an accounting or administrative point of view.
She was totally alien to that world, although she greatly appreciated the rural life and the sense of peace that reigned in Avize.
That woman had been educated according to the canons dearest to the nineteenth-century aristocracy and, with her attitude, she had never ceased to be convinced that the twentieth century had never begun.
She had always been in charge of the Mauriac house in terms of furnishings, provisions and receptions.
With the birth of Julien, she had found the purpose of her life: to be a mother and educator.
At the outbreak of war, he did not hesitate to institute private education for the children of Avize.
A staunch supporter of culture and classicism, she had never given cause for scandal or simple gossip. She was generally well regarded by all, despite her clear German ancestry.
Had she been different, haughty and arrogant, the local population would have been hated, especially after the start of the conflict.
Louis had been fascinated by her since their first meeting in Paris in 1900.
They had been married in 1902 with a lavish reception in the Loire Valley. For the occasion, Ilda's relatives had arrived directly from Berlin and various German cities.
Ilda's parents did not appreciate France and for this reason they made very few visits to Avize.
Julien had never seen his grandparents; they revealed themselves only at the baptism of the little one, too soon for the young Mauriac to keep a memory of them . His father's parents were deceased before his birth.
Other relatives were few in number.
Unlike most families, both Ilda and Louis were only children with distant cousins they had never dated.
Julien's real family was given by Avize's environment and his inseparable little friends.
For the first Christmas after the end of the war, the entire population was preparing something special.
The citizens of Reims rallied around the bishop and it was clear to everyone that the real signal would be that of the reconstruction of the Cathedral.
On the other hand, history had passed through Reims several times.
Julien had learned about the Celtic origins of the city, but already Cesare, understanding the strategic and commercial importance of the place, raised it to the capital of conquered Gaul.
For two thousand years, Reims had represented a sort of watershed between two worlds: the Latin one on one side and the Germanic one on the other.
Furthermore, the archbishop St. Remigio had crowned Clovis as king of the Franks, starting that long journey which, from the fall of the Roman Empire, led that barbarian people to be the champion of Christianity both by fighting against the Arabs and by unifying a large part of the West under the coat of arms of the Holy Roman Empire.
Reims remained as the focal point of the entire history of France indefinitely.
Hugh Capet, the progenitor of that house that reigned unchallenged until the French Revolution, chose the Cathedral of Reims for his coronation and so did all his successors, until 1825.
Precisely because of that centrality in French affairs, the Cathedral was the pride of Gothic architecture.
The central rose window of no less than twelve meters in diameter, the three finely decorated portals and the two eighty-two meter towers, denoted a truly impressive exterior grandeur.
This vision was to prepare the believer for what he would have witnessed inside the church: very high vaults that pushed upwards, almost until they touched the sky.
Stained glass of every color that left you amazed.
Julien remembered that religious monument and how grand it was before the war and now he hoped it would be rebuilt in the same way.
The same should have happened for the other symbols of the city: the palace of Tau, the abbey and basilica of Saint-Remi and the Porte de Mars.
Reims also made strength with the native personalities of that land.
Above all stood out Colbert, the finance minister of the Sun King, the one who gave his name to one of the most popular economic theories in previous centuries.
There were also De Grigny , one of the greatest organ composers, the Saint Doda , venerated since the Middle Ages, and Drouet d' Erlon , general in the Napoleonic army and later Marshal of France under the reign of Louis Philippe.
The pride of the city at a contemporary level was given by the poet Paul Fort, who moved to Paris and was in contact with the main avant-gardes between the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, from symbolism to futurism.
However, the person originally from Reims who most attracted Julien's attention was the philosopher and sociologist Maurice Halbwachs .
He was half French and half German, and this united him with little Mauriac in the elaboration of a certain multiculturalism and in the abjuration of a nationalist sentiment.
The philosopher had studied in Paris, making several visits to Germany, before the outbreak of war.
All this pride of the city, reinforced both by history and by famous people, now manifested itself in the enormous desire to start again.
During the ten days that the Mauriac had been in Paris, an immense frenzy engulfed everyone.
Upon returning, Julien clearly saw that the transformations followed each other in a lightning-fast way.
The first activity was to remove all the rubble, clear the streets and buildings.
Julien's friends informed him of the news.
First, they would officially resume school.
This cheered young Mauriac. He would meet his friends every day on the morning journey from Avize to Reims and from this city to the small village in the afternoon.
He would talk to them about what was going on, what they thought, and the future.
They would exchange views on the vastness of knowledge and games.
Indeed, many sporting events, interrupted due to the war, could be resumed.
Julien and Charles were passionate about cycling and football, but also about athletics in general and De Coubertin's idea of the Olympics, soon dragging along the other minor friends, like Louis and Philippe were.
Charles was very fond of the idea that the French had first devised these events:
"De Coubertin brought the dream of the modern Olympics to life, Rimet the soccer world cup and Desgrange built the Tour."
Julien had underlined a difference with respect to the classical era:
"In Greek times, wars stopped for the Olympics, now the opposite has happened. We haven't evolved that much even though more than two thousand years have passed and we consider ourselves so much superior."
Charles had thought a lot after that statement.
Before that, it seemed to him that there had been no better time than the one he was living now.
The advances in technology were undeniable. Much less people died of trivial diseases and hygienic and sanitary conditions had improved.
But the war had put everyone in front of the harsh reality.
All that progress could be used for destructive ends, to sever human lives in an ever more effective way and to destroy a greater quantity of vehicles and objects.
So was it real progress?
Wasn't it certainly better like in Greek times?
A few days later, Charles returned to the question:
“Do you think there is an evil disposition in man?”
"I think so, otherwise how do you explain wars and violence?"
Charles did not hold back:
"But aren't all those things that you study the result of human work?"
"Yes, of course", Julien had to agree with him.
"And how are those poems, those theories, those music?"
"Sublime."
"And aren't our parents' jobs beautiful? How is your father's champagne making?"
"Fantastic."
"Exactly, and how do you explain it?"
Julien didn't fully understand where his friend was getting at.
"How do you explain that, if human beings are evil, they can create such beautiful things?"
Julien understood.
He had asked himself the same thing several times and had not found an answer. He had asked his mother.
Ilda Von Trakl had used these words:
"In all of us there is a dual nature, the good one and the evil one. There are no only good or only evil people. But each of us has the possibility and the duty to choose. It is your choices that characterize your actions and your thoughts , so it's up to you to choose, day after day, what kind of person you want to be."
Julien hadn't asked any more questions, even if he hadn't fully grasped the meaning of that speech.
He had more doubts than before: what role did God play in all this? And fate? Is the story?
He repeated the same words to Charles, who in turn was gripped by the same questions.
Between the two friends, however, there was total confidence, so that explanation was not enough for Charles:
"So, following your reasoning, we can all choose. Take a soldier for example: can he choose whether to obey an order? In the sense, if he is given an order that is obviously wrong or that goes against his principles or against the law, he can refuse ?"
Common sense would have led us to say no, to admit that in some cases it is not possible to choose.
Julien, however, did not lose heart and went fishing among his memories.
During the first year of the war, that fateful 1914, when everyone thought it was a matter of a few months' skirmish, a completely inexplicable fact had really happened following military logic.
If those soldiers had obeyed orders in a sinister way, there would not have been that page of humanity.
In fact, they were punished in an exemplary way, transferred elsewhere or convicted.
Julien was certain that it was not a fairy tale, as everything told had been confirmed by several soldiers who had passed through Reims.
It had all taken place in those trenches not far from Avize.
Julien began to tell Charles what happened during Christmas 1914.
"Imagine, three enemy armies on one side and the other. French and English on one side, German on the other. All Christians, some Catholics, some Protestants, some Anglican. It's Christmas night for everyone.
Each of them is a soldier and must obey orders .
Impressum
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.04.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-3925-7
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