Cancel Save settings. Bestselling Series. Harry Potter. Books By Language. Books in Spanish. Old Man Goriot. Free delivery worldwide. Expected delivery to Germany in business days. Not ordering to Germany? Click here. Order now for expected delivery to Germany by Christmas. Description Monsieur Goriot is one of a disparate group of lodgers at Mademe Vauquer's dingy Parisian boarding house.
At first his wealth inspires respect, but as his circumstances are mysteriously reduced he becomes shunned by those around him, and soon his only remaining visitors are his two beautifully dressed daughters.
Goriot's fate is intertwined with two other fellow boarders: the young social climber Eugene Rastignac, who sees a way to gain the acceptance and wealth he craves, and the enigmatic figure of Vautrin, who is hiding darker secrets than anyone. Weaving a compelling and panoramic story of love, money, self-sacrifice, corruption, greed and ambition, Old Man Goriot is Balzac's acknowledged masterpiece.
A key novel in his Comedie Humaine series, it is a vividly realized portrait of bourgeois Parisian society in the years following the French Revolution. Other books in this series. Add to basket. The Black Sheep Honore de Balzac. The other women were furious. She must have enjoyed herself, if ever creature did!
It is a true saying that there is no more beautiful sight than a frigate in full sail, a galloping horse, or a woman dancing. If their husbands cannot afford to pay for their frantic extravagance, they will sell themselves. They will turn the world upside down. Just a Parisienne through and through! Did you speak to her? Did you ask her if she wanted to study law?
There is no place like Paris for this sort of adventures. Taillefer had scarcely heeded the talk, she was so absorbed by the thought of the new attempt that she was about to make. Couture made a sign that it was time to go upstairs and dress; the two ladies went out, and Father Goriot followed their example.
Vauquer, addressing Vautrin and the rest of the circle. Michonneau gave Vautrin a quick glance at these words. They must drink the water from some particular spring—it is stagnant as often as not; but they will sell their wives and families, they will sell their own souls to the devil to get it. For some this spring is play, or the stock-exchange, or music, or a collection of pictures or insects; for others it is some woman who can give them the dainties they like.
You might offer these last all the women on earth—they would turn up their noses; they will have the only one who can gratify their passion. Father Goriot here is one of that sort. He is discreet, so the Countess exploits him—just the way of the gay world.
The poor old fellow thinks of her and of nothing else. In all other respects you see he is a stupid animal; but get him on that subject, and his eyes sparkle like diamonds. That secret is not difficult to guess. And now, mark what follows—he came back here, and gave a letter for the Comtesse de Restaud to that noodle of a Christophe, who showed us the address; there was a receipted bill inside it.
It is clear that it was an urgent matter if the Countess also went herself to the old money lender. Father Goriot has financed her handsomely. There is no need to tack a tale together; the thing is self-evident.
You are so unlucky as to walk off with something or other belonging to somebody else, and they exhibit you as a curiosity in the Place du Palais-de-Justice; you steal a million, and you are pointed out in every salon as a model of virtue. And you pay thirty millions for the police and the courts of justice, for the maintenance of law and order! A pretty slate of things it is! I happened to see him by accident.
The student went up to his room. Vautrin went out, and a few moments later Mme. Couture and Victorine drove away in a cab which Sylvie had called for them. Poiret gave his arm to Mlle. Michonneau, and they went together to spend the two sunniest hours of the day in the Jardin des Plantes. They are such a couple of dry sticks that if they happen to strike against each other they will draw sparks like flint and steel. Vauquer was listening to the history of the visit made that morning to M.
Taillefer; it had been made in vain. Taillefer was tired of the annual application made by his daughter and her elderly friend; he gave them a personal interview in order to arrive at an understanding with them. Couture, addressing Mme. He said to me quite coolly, without putting himself in a passion, that we might spare ourselves the trouble of going there; that the young lady he would not call her his daughter was injuring her cause by importuning him importuning!
She took it up and gave it to him, saying the most beautiful things in the world, most beautifully expressed; I do not know where she learned them; God must have put them into her head, for the poor child was inspired to speak so nicely that it made me cry like a fool to hear her talk.
And what do you think the monster was doing all the time? Cutting his nails! He took the letter that poor Mme. Taillefer had soaked with tears, and flung it on to the chimney-piece. He held out his hands to raise his daughter, but she covered them with kisses, and he drew them away again.
And his great booby of a son came in and took no notice of his sister. That is the history of our call. Well, he has seen his daughter at any rate. How he can refuse to acknowledge her I cannot think, for they are as alike as two peas.
The boarders dropped in one after another, interchanging greetings and empty jokes that certain classes of Parisians regard as humorous and witty. Dulness is their prevailing ingredient, and the whole point consists in mispronouncing a word or a gesture. This kind of argot is always changing. The essence of the jest consists in some catchword suggested by a political event, an incident in the police courts, a street song, or a bit of burlesque at some theatre, and forgotten in a month.
Anything and everything serves to keep up a game of battledore and shuttlecock with words and ideas. The diorama, a recent invention, which carried an optical illusion a degree further than panoramas, had given rise to a mania among art students for ending every word with rama.
The Maison Vauquer had caught the infection from a young artist among the boarders. Confound it, your foot covers the whole front of the stove. It is incorrect; it should be frozenrama.
Michonneau came noiselessly in, bowed to the rest of the party, and took her place beside the three women without saying a word. Michonneau to Vautrin. Father Goriot, seated at the lower end of the table, close to the door through which the servant entered, raised his face; he had smelt at a scrap of bread that lay under his table napkin, an old trick acquired in his commercial capacity, that still showed itself at times. The eight responses came like a rolling fire from every part of the room, and the laughter that followed was the more uproarious because poor Father Goriot stared at the others with a puzzled look, like a foreigner trying to catch the meaning of words in a language which he does not understand.
The poor old man thus suddenly attacked was for a moment too bewildered to do anything. Christophe carried off his plate, thinking that he had finished his soup, so that when Goriot had pushed back his cap from his eyes his spoon encountered the table. Every one burst out laughing. So papa was refractory, was he? The old man had forgotten his dinner, he was so absorbed in gazing at the poor girl; the sorrow in her face was unmistakable,—the slighted love of a child whose father would not recognize her.
Try your Gall system on him, and let me know what you think. I saw him crush a silver dish last night as if it had been made of wax; there seems to be something extraordinary going on in his mind just now, to judge by his face. His life is so mysterious that it must be worth studying. I will dissect him, if he will give me the chance.
On the way thither he indulged in the wild intoxicating dreams which fill a young head so full of delicious excitement. Young men at his age take no account of obstacles nor of dangers; they see success in every direction; imagination has free play, and turns their lives into a romance; they are saddened or discouraged by the collapse of one of the visionary schemes that have no existence save in their heated fancy.
If youth were not ignorant and timid, civilization would be impossible. Eugene took unheard-of pains to keep himself in a spotless condition, but on his way through the streets he began to think about Mme. He equipped himself with wit, rehearsed repartees in the course of an imaginary conversation, and prepared certain neat speeches a la Talleyrand, conjuring up a series of small events which should prepare the way for the declaration on which he had based his future; and during these musings the law student was bespattered with mud, and by the time he reached the Palais Royal he was obliged to have his boots blacked and his trousers brushed.
At last he reached the Rue du Helder, and asked for the Comtesse de Restaud. He bore the contemptuous glances of the servants, who had seen him cross the court on foot, with the cold fury of a man who knows that he will succeed some day.
He understood the meaning of their glances at once, for he had felt his inferiority as soon as he entered the court, where a smart cab was waiting.
All the delights of life in Paris seemed to be implied by this visible and manifest sign of luxury and extravagance. A fine horse, in magnificent harness, was pawing the ground, and all at once the law student felt out of humor with himself. Every compartment in his brain which he had thought to find so full of wit was bolted fast; he grew positively stupid.
He sent up his name to the Countess, and waited in the ante-chamber, standing on one foot before a window that looked out upon the court; mechanically he leaned his elbow against the sash, and stared before him.
The time seemed long; he would have left the house but for the southern tenacity of purpose which works miracles when it is single-minded. Rastignac was impressed with a sense of the formidable power of the lackey who can accuse or condemn his masters by a word; he coolly opened the door by which the man had just entered the ante-chamber, meaning, no doubt, to show these insolent flunkeys that he was familiar with the house; but he found that he had thoughtlessly precipitated himself into a small room full of dressers, where lamps were standing, and hot-water pipes, on which towels were being dried; a dark passage and a back staircase lay beyond it.
Stifled laughter from the ante-chamber added to his confusion. Eugene turned so quickly that he stumbled against a bath. By good luck, he managed to keep his hat on his head, and saved it from immersion in the water; but just as he turned, a door opened at the further end of the dark passage, dimly lighted by a small lamp.
Rastignac heard voices and the sound of a kiss; one of the speakers was Mme. Eugene followed the servant through the dining-room into the drawing-room; he went to a window that looked out into the courtyard, and stood there for a while. He meant to know whether this Goriot was really the Goriot that he knew.
Tell Madame la Comtesse that I waited more than half an hour for her. Just at that moment Father Goriot appeared close to the gate; he had emerged from a door at the foot of the back staircase.
The worthy soul was preparing to open his umbrella regardless of the fact that the great gate had opened to admit a tilbury, in which a young man with a ribbon at his button-hole was seated. Father Goriot had scarcely time to start back and save himself.
The horse took fright at the umbrella, swerved, and dashed forward towards the flight of steps. The young man looked round in annoyance, saw Father Goriot, and greeted him as he went out with constrained courtesy, such as people usually show to a money-lender so long as they require his services, or the sort of respect they feel it necessary to show for some one whose reputation has been blown upon, so that they blush to acknowledge his acquaintance.
Father Goriot gave him a little friendly nod and a good-natured smile. All this happened with lightning speed. Maxime, were you going away?
The Countess had not seen the incident nor the entrance of the tilbury. Rastignac turned abruptly and saw her standing before him, coquettishly dressed in a loose white cashmere gown with knots of rose-colored ribbon here and there; her hair was carelessly coiled about her head, as is the wont of Parisian women in the morning; there was a soft fragrance about her—doubtless she was fresh from a bath;—her graceful form seemed more flexible, her beauty more luxuriant.
Her eyes glistened. A young man can see everything at a glance; he feels the radiant influence of woman as a plant discerns and absorbs its nutriment from the air; he did not need to touch her hands to feel their cool freshness. The Countess had no need of the adventitious aid of corsets; her girdle defined the outlines of her slender waist; her throat was a challenge to love; her feet, thrust into slippers, were daintily small.
Maxime, as the Countess Anastasie had called the young man with the haughty insolence of bearing, looked from Eugene to the lady, and from the lady to Eugene; it was sufficiently evident that he wished to be rid of the latter. The quick-witted child of the Charente felt the disadvantage at which he was placed beside this tall, slender dandy, with the clear gaze and the pale face, one of those men who would ruin orphan children without scruple. Eugene, in a fury, followed Maxime and the Countess, and the three stood once more face to face by the hearth in the large drawing-room.
The law student felt quite sure that the odious Maxime found him in the way, and even at the risk of displeasing Mme. It had struck him all at once that he had seen the young man before at Mme. Rash resolve! He did not know that M. He stopped short. The door opened, and the owner of the tilbury suddenly appeared.
The young provincial did not understand the amenities of a triple alliance. Related to Mme. These words, on which the countess threw ever so slight an emphasis, by reason of the pride that the mistress of a house takes in showing that she only receives people of distinction as visitors in her house, produced a magical effect.
Maxime de Trailles himself gave Eugene an uneasy glance, and suddenly dropped his insolent manner. It was as if a sudden light had pierced the obscurity of this upper world of Paris, and he began to see, though everything was indistinct as yet. They had only one daughter, who married the Marechal de Clarimbault, Mme. The Government during the Revolution refused to admit our claims when the Compagnie des Indes was liquidated. Maxime looked at Mme.
We will leave you two gentlemen to sail in company on board the Warwick and the Vengeur. She rose to her feet and signed to Maxime to follow her, mirth and mischief in her whole attitude, and the two went in the direction of the boudoir. The morganatic couple to use a convenient German expression which has no exact equivalent had reached the door, when the Count interrupted himself in his talk with Eugene.
She came back almost immediately. It was Eugene who had brought about this untoward incident; so the Countess looked at Maxime and indicated the law student with an air of exasperation. She followed Maxime into the little drawing-room, where they sat together sufficiently long to feel sure that Rastignac had taken his leave. The law student heard their laughter, and their voices, and the pauses in their talk; he grew malicious, exerted his conversational powers for M.
This Countess with a husband and a lover, for Maxime clearly was her lover, was a mystery. What was the secret tie that bound her to the old tradesman? This mystery he meant to penetrate, hoping by its means to gain a sovereign ascendency over this fair typical Parisian. He will make you a declaration, and compromise you, and then you will compel me to kill him. Of course, I mean to make Restaud furiously jealous of him. Maxime burst out laughing, and went out, followed by the Countess, who stood at the window to watch him into his carriage; he shook his whip, and made his horse prance.
She only returned when the great gate had been closed after him. At the sound of this name, and the prefix that embellished it, the Count, who was stirring the fire, let the tongs fall as though they had burned his fingers, and rose to his feet. He wished the earth would open and swallow him. Eugene made a profound bow and took his leave, followed by M. And now I am going to spoil my hat and coat into the bargain.
I ought to stop in my corner, grind away at law, and never look to be anything but a boorish country magistrate. How can I go into society, when to manage properly you want a lot of cabs, varnished boots, gold watch chains, and all sorts of things; you have to wear white doeskin gloves that cost six francs in the morning, and primrose kid gloves every evening? A fig for that old humbug of a Goriot! This young man of fashion, species incerta, did not know that there were two Hotels Beauseant; he was not aware how rich he was in relations who did not care about him.
Goriot has cost me ten francs already, the old scoundrel. My word! I will tell Mme. Doubtless she will know the secret of the criminal relation between that handsome woman and the old rat without a tail. Let us look higher. If you set yourself to carry the heights of heaven, you must face God. The innumerable thoughts that surged through his brain might be summed up in these phrases.
He grew calmer, and recovered something of his assurance as he watched the falling rain. A Swiss, in scarlet and gold, appeared, the great door groaned on its hinges, and Rastignac, with sweet satisfaction, beheld his equipage pass under the archway and stop before the flight of steps beneath the awning. The driver, in a blue-and-red greatcoat, dismounted and let down the step.
As Eugene stepped out of the cab, he heard smothered laughter from the peristyle. Three or four lackeys were making merry over the festal appearance of the vehicle. In another moment the law student was enlightened as to the cause of their hilarity; he felt the full force of the contrast between his equipage and one of the smartest broughams in Paris; a coachman, with powdered hair, seemed to find it difficult to hold a pair of spirited horses, who stood chafing the bit.
In Mme. He began to understand, though somewhat tardily, that he must not expect to find many women in Paris who were not already appropriated, and that the capture of one of these queens would be likely to cost something more than bloodshed. I expect my cousin also has her Maxime. He went up the steps, feeling that he was a blighted being.
The glass door was opened for him; the servants were as solemn as jackasses under the curry comb. So far, Eugene had only been in the ballroom on the ground floor of the Hotel Beauseant; the fete had followed so closely on the invitation, that he had not had time to call on his cousin, and had therefore never seen Mme. He was the more curious, because Mme. At half-past four the Vicomtesse de Beauseant was visible.
Five minutes earlier she would not have received her cousin, but Eugene knew nothing of the recognized routine of various houses in Paris. He was conducted up the wide, white-painted, crimson-carpeted staircase, between the gilded balusters and masses of flowering plants, to Mme. He did not know the rumor current about Mme. It was one of those innocent liaisons which possess so much charm for the two thus attached to each other that they find the presence of a third person intolerable.
The Vicomte de Beauseant, therefore, had himself set an example to the rest of the world by respecting, with as good a grace as might be, this morganatic union. As, under the circumstances, Mme. She went to the Bouffons or to the Opera with M. But M. In the whole fashionable world there was but one person who as yet knew nothing of the arrangement, and that was Mme. Some of her friends had hinted at the possibility, and she had laughed at them, believing that envy had prompted those ladies to try to make mischief.
And now, though the bans were about to be published, and although the handsome Portuguese had come that day to break the news to the Vicomtesse, he had not found courage as yet to say one word about his treachery. How was it? Nothing is doubtless more difficult than the notification of an ultimatum of this kind. There are men who feel more at their ease when they stand up before another man who threatens their lives with sword or pistol than in the presence of a woman who, after two hours of lamentations and reproaches, falls into a dead swoon and requires salts.
At this moment, therefore, M. He told himself that in some way or other the news would reach Mme. So when the servant announced M. It was impossible, therefore, that Mme. If, down to the present day, our language has no name for these conversational disasters, it is probably because they are believed to be impossible, the publicity given in Paris to every scandal is so prodigious.
After the awkward incident at Mme. But if Mme. She did not pay the slightest attention to Eugene, who stood there dazzled by the sparkling marvels around him; he began to think that this was some story out of the Arabian Nights made real, and did not know where to hide himself, when the woman before him seemed to be unconscious of his existence. The Vicomtesse had raised the forefinger of her right hand, and gracefully signed to the Marquis to seat himself beside her. The Marquis felt the imperious sway of passion in her gesture; he came back towards her.
Eugene watched him, not without a feeling of envy. The demon of luxury gnawed at his heart, greed burned in his veins, his throat was parched with the thirst of gold. He had a hundred and thirty francs every quarter. His father, mother, brothers, sisters, and aunt did not spend two hundred francs a month among them.
This swift comparison between his present condition and the aims he had in view helped to benumb his faculties. When a man once enters on a course of deception, he is compelled to add lie to lie. Eugene ran his fingers through his hair, and constrained himself to bow. He thought that now Mme. Those words, and the way in which M. The most terrible catastrophes only happen among the heights. The Vicomtesse went to her own room, sat down at a table, and took up a sheet of dainty notepaper.
Eugene was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, but at last the Vicomtesse appeared; she spoke to him, and the tremulous tones of her voice vibrated through his heart. Now I am quite at liberty. But is he still free?
This evening the marriage shall be broken off, or else But before to-morrow I shall know. He reddened:. I am distantly related to you, and this obscure and remote relationship is even now a perfect godsend to me. You have confused my ideas; I cannot remember the things that I meant to say to you.
I know no one else here in Paris The southern brain was beginning to scheme for the first time. Between Mme. I am a novice, and my blunders will set every one against me, if you do not give me your counsel. I believe that in Paris it is very difficult to meet with a young, beautiful, and wealthy woman of fashion who would be willing to teach me, what you women can explain so well—life. I shall find a M. So I have come to you to ask you to give me a key to a puzzle, to entreat you to tell me what sort of blunder I made this morning.
It was believed that the Duchess was desperately in love with M. What should induce M. The Rochefides were only ennobled yesterday. It is very surprising to me that you should know so little about it. Be merciful to him, and let us finish our talk to-morrow. Everything will be announced to-morrow, you know, and your kind informal communication can be accompanied by official confirmation.
The Duchess gave Eugene one of those insolent glances that measure a man from head to foot, and leave him crushed and annihilated. We women never care about anything that no one else will take. Besides, I am confessing my sins, and it would be impossible to kneel in a more charming confessional; you commit your sins in one drawing-room, and receive absolution for them in another. Do you remember, Claire? The King began to laugh, and made some joke in Latin about flour. People—what was it? And her name is Delphine, is it not?
She comes sometimes to the Bouffons, and laughs loudly to attract attention. Why do you take so much interest in people of that kind? One must have been as madly in love as Restaud was, to be infatuated with Mlle. Anastasie and her flour sacks. She is in M. He was still under the spell of youthful beliefs, he had just left home, pure and sacred feelings had been stirred within him, and this was his first day on the battlefield of civilization in Paris.
Genuine feeling is so infectious that for a moment the three looked at each other in silence. Is there not a reason for it? Tell me, dear, have you ever really thought what a son-in-law is? But yesterday our little daughter thought of no one but her mother and father, as we had no thought that was not for her; by to-morrow she will have become a hostile stranger. The tragedy is always going on under our eyes.
On the one hand you see a father who has sacrificed himself to his son, and his daughter-in-law shows him the last degree of insolence. I sometimes hear it said that there is nothing dramatic about society in these days; but the Drama of the Son-in-law is appalling, to say nothing of our marriages, which have come to be very poor farces.
He was in the secret of the famous scarcity of grain, and laid the foundation of his fortune in those days by selling flour for ten times its cost. He had as much flour as he wanted. No doubt Noriot shared the plunder with the Committee of Public Salvation, as that sort of person always did. I recollect the steward telling my grandmother that she might live at Grandvilliers in complete security, because her corn was as good as a certificate of civism.
Well, then, this Loriot, who sold corn to those butchers, has never had but one passion, they say—he idolizes his daughters. You can quite understand that so long as Bonaparte was Emperor, the two sons-in-law could manage to put up with the old Ninety-three; but after the restoration of the Bourbons, M.
As for me, dear, I believe that love has second-sight: poor Ninety-three; his heart must have bled. He saw that his daughters were ashamed of him, that if they loved their husbands his visits must make mischief.
So he immolated himself. He made the sacrifice because he was a father; he went into voluntary exile. His daughters were satisfied, so he thought that he had done the best thing he could; but it was a family crime, and father and daughters were accomplices. You see this sort of thing everywhere. He would only have been in the way, and bored other people, besides being bored himself. And this that happened between father and daughters may happen to the prettiest woman in Paris and the man she loves the best; if her love grows tiresome, he will go; he will descend to the basest trickery to leave her.
It is the same with all love and friendship. Our heart is a treasury; if you pour out all its wealth at once, you are bankrupt. We show no more mercy to the affection that reveals its utmost extent than we do to another kind of prodigal who has not a penny left. Their father had given them all he had. For twenty years he had given his whole heart to them; then, one day, he gave them all his fortune too.
The lemon was squeezed; the girls left the rest in the gutter. She did not raise her head as she spoke; the words that Mme. If I speak in this way, it is only to show that I am not duped by it. She rose to her feet and kissed Mme. I have never seen such a lovely color in your cheeks before. For several minutes the silence remained unbroken till the law student became almost paralyzed with embarrassment, and was equally afraid to go or stay or speak a word.
Epigrams and sarcasms already! I will defend myself! She raised her head like the great lady that she was, and lightnings flashed from her proud eyes. You are determined to succeed? I will help you. Deeply as I am versed in such learning, there were pages in the book of life that I had not read. Now I know all. The more cold-blooded your calculations, the further you will go.
Strike ruthlessly; you will be feared. Men and women for you must be nothing more than post-horses; take a fresh relay, and leave the last to drop by the roadside; in this way you will reach the goal of your ambition. You will be nothing here, you see, unless a woman interests herself in you; and she must be young and wealthy, and a woman of the world. And if ever you should love, never let your secret escape you! Trust no one until you are very sure of the heart to which you open your heart.
Learn to mistrust every one; take every precaution for the sake of the love which does not exist as yet. Restaud comes of a good family, his wife has been received into their circle; she has been presented at court; and her sister, her wealthy sister, Mme.
Delphine de Nucingen, the wife of a great capitalist, is consumed with envy, and ready to die of spleen. There is gulf set between the sisters—indeed, they are sisters no longer—the two women who refuse to acknowledge their father do not acknowledge each other.
Goriot's fate is intertwined with two other fellow boarders: the young social climber Eugene Rastignac, who sees a way to gain the acceptance and wealth he craves, and the enigmatic figure of Vautrin, who is hiding darker secrets than anyone. Weaving a compelling and panoramic story of love, money, self-sacrifice PDF, corruption, greed and ambition, "Old Man Goriot" is Balzac's acknowledged masterpiece.
A key novel in his "Comedie Humaine" series, it is a vividly realized portrait of bourgeois Parisian society in the years following the French Revolution. Reviews of the Old Man Goriot Until now regarding the e-book we've Old Man Goriot comments end users have never however left his or her overview of the overall game, or otherwise not make out the print yet.
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