Joris-Karl Huysmans

Joris-Karl Huysmans

Summary

Portrait of Joris-Karl Huysmans Joris-Karl Huysmans The Cathedral — Chapter XII

The crypt was closed in the afternoon, but he found his way in by a small door in the sacristy inside the cathedral, and descended into utter darkness.
Having reached the crypt in front of the altar, he round once more the doubtful but soothing odour of that vault, smoked by burning tapers, and went forward in the soft, warm atmosphere of frankincense and a cellar. It was even darker than in the early morning, for the lamps were out; floating wicks only, shining through what looked like very thin orange-peel, threw gleams of tarnished gold on the sooty walls.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Joris-Karl Huysmans Joris-Karl Huysmans The Cathedral — Chapter XII

An altar stood in the middle of this well, dedicated in the name of Saint Lubin. In the crypt the distant hum of the bells, the sounds of life in the cathedral above, could still be heard; here, nothing! It was like being in the tomb. Unfortunately, some squalid, square columns whitened with lime-wash, built on the altar to give support to Bridan's group in the choir above, spoilt the barbaric simplicity of this oubliette, forgotten, lost in the night of ages, and underground.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Joris-Karl Huysmans Joris-Karl Huysmans The Cathedral — Chapter XII

Oh! to have a soul so quenched that it should know no sorrows, no joys, but those of the liturgy, that it might only be claimed, day by day, by Jesus or by Thee, and follow Your lives as they are unfolded in the annual cycle of the Church services! To rejoice at the Nativity, to laugh on Palm Sunday, to weep in Holy Week, and be indifferent to all else, to cease to hold oneself as of any account, to care not at all for one's individual self! What a dream! How easy it then would be to take refuge in a cloister!
Source: Wikisource

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