masked balls during the winter, and a club, the Große Klub zu
Braunschweig, of which the Duke was the president, devoted to
intellectual pursuits, with its own spacious rooms and library. Court
ceremonial was elaborate, and Constant’s role was to receive guests at
receptions and dinners dressed in uniform with a sword at his side. He
knew from the outset that he could never fit in. There could be little scope
for Constant’s characteristic verve and bizarrerie to express themselves
openly among the formal rituals of Court. And the German nobility he met
struck him as stiff, unimaginative and frequently vain. For their part they
can have felt little in common with this tall, stooping young man with
sandy hair, freckles, spectacles and a lisp whose characteristic mode of
conversation was rapier-sharp stabs of irony or paradox, usually at the
expense of others. Like so much else about the Duke’s Court that is
echoed in the first chapter of Adolphe, Constant’s talent for rubbing fellow
courtiers up the wrong way is graphically summarized:
I was welcomed at Court with that curiosity inspired by any
outsider who comes and disturbs a monotonous pattern of existence
and a life based on respect for established social convention. For
several months I noticed nothing that really held my attention. I
was grateful for the consideration which I was shown, but at times
my shyness prevented me from making the most of it, and at other
times the wearying nature of all the pointless agitation I saw around
me made me prefer being alone to the bland diversions I was
invited to take part in. Although I had no feelings of hatred towards
anyone, few people aroused any interest in me at all. But people are
hurt by indifference, and attribute it to malevolence or conceit, not
wishing to believe that it is entirely natural to be bored by their
company. Sometimes I tried to conceal my boredom, but when I
took refuge in total silence, this was attributed to my disdain for
others. At other times, tired of saying nothing, I took the liberty of
making witty observations and, letting myself get carried away by
my sense of humour, I went much too far. In one day I revealed all
the absurdities I had observed during a whole month. Those who
listened to my sudden and involuntary revelations did not thank me
for what I said.... Because of this I acquired a reputation for
facetiousness, mockery, cruelty. The sharpness of my tongue was
seen as proof that my heart was full of hatred, and my witticisms
were taken as attacks on everything that was worthy of respect....
Thus there was a vague sense of unease about my character among
the small group of people around me. They could not give a preciseBenjamin constant 110