Hangelin The Life of Jeanne Bécu, Comtesse du Barry

From Maid to Madame Stufe B1 mit Englisch-deutscher Übersetzung
1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-3-347-81276-5
Verlag: tredition
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Deutsch, 124 Seiten

Das Buch lässt sich schnell lesen und endet als eine ziemlich tragische Geschichte über eine Frau, die es durch ihre natürliche Schönheit zu einem unglaublichen Reichtum gebracht hat. Obwohl du Barry im Grunde genommen nur ausgehändigt wurde, um das Vermögen ihrer Familie zu mehren, und sie von den Männern in ihrem Leben manipuliert wurde, konnte sie dennoch etwas naiv und ziemlich charmant bleiben. Es ist amüsant, sich vorzustellen, wie du Barry ihr affektiertes Lispeln benutzt, um Männer für sich zu gewinnen, selbst als ihre Schönheit zu verblassen beginnt. Es war aber auch erschreckend zu erkennen, wie schwer es für Frauen wie du Barry war, zu begreifen, dass ihre Welt durch die Revolution auf den Kopf gestellt wurde, bis es viel zu spät war. Es ist eine kurze, schnelle Lektüre, die Lust macht, mehr über diese Frau zu erfahren. Das Buch bietet eine parallele Übersetzung auf dem Sprachniveau B1, die es dem Leser ermöglicht, die Sprache in kürzerer Zeit zu lernen. Auf einen Blick lässt sich hier sofort erkennen, was unbekannte Wörter bedeuten. Die Audiodateien sind inklusive und online erhältlich. Mit Hilfe von QR-Codes kann man im Handumdrehen auf eine Audiodatei zugreifen, ohne manuell Webadressen eintippen zu müssen.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hangelin, Cris

Leseproben

Chapter 1 A Humble Beginning
Ein bescheidener Anfang It was a warm August night in a small town called Vaucoulers in 1743. Most of the citizens were asleep, gathering strength for the upcoming week. However, some people were still awake despite the late hour. Lovers meeting under the guise of darkness. Vagrants looking for a place to stay. And in one tiny bedroom, a soon-to-be mother wailing in birthing pains while her sister acted as a midwife. “Not long anymore. You’re nearly there, Anne, nearly there,” said the sister. She was a pretty-looking girl with kind eyes and fair hair, but the woman in labour was so much prettier. Even the messy hair, tears of pain, and drops of sweat could not hide the fact that she was a stunning beauty. “I can’t take this anymore! I just want it to be over, Hélène. It hurts so much,” Anne shrieked. She was laying on her bed in just her white nightgown. Long, blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were tightly closed as if she tried to escape the pain that way. “You’re doing so well; it won’t be long. I can see the head already,” Hélène comforted her. And true to her words, a few minutes later a different kind of shriek could be heard. The wail of a baby who had just arrived at a bright and cold world. Hearing the noise, Anne sighed and tears of happiness and relief started flowing down her cheeks. After taking a few calming breaths, she opened her eyes to see what her sister was doing. Hélène was carefully wrapping the baby up in a warm, cream-coloured blanket while softly humming a lullaby. “Which one?” Anne asked and waited with bated breath for an answer. “A daughter. You have a daughter, my dear sister. Oh, and she is a beauty like you!” Anne's face lit up with happiness when she heard the answer. She had longed for a sweet girl who would become her own little princess. Of course, she would also have loved a boy if one had come. But Anne believed she was better able to raise a girl than a boy. After all, she had once been a little girl herself. “Let me see her,” she demanded eagerly. The fatigue brought by long and painful childbirth was forgotten for a moment as she impatiently waited to have her daughter in her own arms. “Of course,” Hélène said and then cooed to the newborn. “Here you go, little darling. Ready to meet your maman?” She then placed the baby carefully in Anne’s waiting arms. Anne looked at her daughter in wonder. Her baby was mesmerizing, like a little angel. With pale blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Fair hair, a cute nose, and silky soft skin. Ten delicate fingers and toes. How had she been able to create such a miracle and carry it inside her for nine months? And how could she keep her daughter as innocent and perfect as the little one was at that moment? “Oh, my sweet, little angel. I am your maman. How I love you so much already!” Anne softly murmured to her daughter while gently caressing the little one’s cheek. Hélène silently watched the precious moment between mother and daughter before asking a question that had been in her mind all night. “Have you thought about names?” “I needed to see her before choosing. I want the name to suit her perfectly, she deserves that. She deserves a name fit for a lady.” Anne's answer made Hélène sigh. Although she understood that her sister's words of praise for the child were justified, she also knew her sister. Anne had a bad habit of living with her head in the clouds with dreams and of forgetting the hard facts of everyday life. It hadn’t been so worrisome when her sister lived alone, but she was now solely responsible for another person. One that would not be able to take care of itself for a long time yet. Hélène worried for her niece and how Anne's lifestyle would affect the little darling’s future. Especially when the girl's life had begun with a shocking scandal, but her sister seemed to have forgotten that little detail. “But she isn’t one. Nor will she ever be a lady. No matter how dear she is to you, to me and our family. She is a common girl and one without a father.” “Don’t be silly. Of course, she has a father!” Anne protested loudly. The sudden harsh noise startled her daughter and the baby started crying again. Realizing that she had scared her child, Anne immediately quieted down and started to rock the baby gently to sleep in her arms. Hélène waited until the little one had calmed down before calmly continuing their conversation. She didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings. She only wanted to make Anne realize the consequences her previous and future actions could have on the baby’s life. “Not officially, she doesn’t. Everyone will know that she is illegitimate. No matter where she goes. And they’ll treat her worse because of it. You know that, Anne; you have seen it happen countless times. And your lapsing friar won’t be able to help you or her when the times are rough.” “He promised to do his best.” “His best is not good enough. You’re not alone anymore, Anne. You need to think about her too. She needs a stable home, security, and enough food to help her grow. You, my dear, are a 30-year-old unmarried seamstress loving and living freely. You barely make enough money for your own needs.” Hélène’s calm and reasonable words had the desired effect. Anne paused and thought about everything her sister had said. She didn’t want her daughter to live in squalor. She wanted a good life for her sweet angel. So she made a vow to herself that she would do everything she possibly could to make that happen. Her baby would grow up to be a strong woman. The thought made her smile as she gazed down at her sleeping daughter. Strong, beautiful, and brave. Those were the qualities she wanted her baby to have. In her mind she imagined her baby all grown up, riding independently through the meadows fair hair blowing in the wind. Suddenly she knew what name her girl should get. She hoped that it would serve as an inspiration for the child later on. “I will find something better. I will work harder. Jeanne won’t starve.” “Jeanne?” “Yes, her name is Jeanne. Jeanne Bécu.” The baby seemed to agree with the choice of her name, as at that moment she opened her eyes and looked wonderingly at her mother and aunt. Both women smiled at her softly. “You know, you both could come with me to Paris. There would be more options for you both in the great city,” Hélène said to her sister. She would have loved to see the little one grow and by keeping them both close she could make sure that Anne was a responsible parent. But Anne was not very pleased with the idea. She loved the freedom her home town offered her. “Paris? I think not.” The harsh answer dashed Hélène’s hopes. “Well, if you ever do change your mind, you know where to find me.” Es war eine warme Augustnacht in einer kleinen Stadt namens Vaucoulers im Jahr 1743. Die meisten Bürger schliefen und sammelten Kraft für die kommende Woche. Einige Leute waren jedoch trotz der späten Stunde noch wach. Liebende treffen sich unter dem Deckmantel der Dunkelheit. Landstreicher auf der Suche nach einer Bleibe. Und in einem winzigen Schlafzimmer weinte eine werdende Mutter in Geburtswehen, während ihre Schwester als Hebamme fungiert. „Nicht mehr lange. Du hast es fast geschafft, Anne, fast geschafft“, sagte die Schwester. Sie war ein hübsch aussehendes Mädchen mit freundlichen Augen und blondem Haar, aber die Frau in den Wehen war so viel hübscher. Sogar das unordentliche Haar, die Tränen des Schmerzes und die Schweißtropfen konnten nicht darüber hinwegtäuschen, dass sie eine atemberaubende Schönheit war. „Ich halte das nicht mehr aus! Ich will nur, dass es vorbei ist, Hélène. Es tut so weh“, schrie Anne. Sie lag nur in ihrem weißen Nachthemd auf ihrem Bett. Langes, blondes Haar umrahmte ihr herzförmiges Gesicht. Ihre Augen waren fest geschlossen, als ob sie versuchte, dem Schmerz auf diese Weise zu entkommen. „Du machst das so gut; es wird nicht lange dauern. Ich kann den Kopf schon sehen“, tröstete Hélène sie. Und getreu ihren Worten war ein paar Minuten später ein anderer Schrei zu hören. Das Weinen eines Babys, das gerade in einer hellen und kalten Welt angekommen war. Als Anne das Geräusch hörte, seufzte sie und Tränen der Freude und Erleichterung begannen, ihre Wangen hinabzufließen. Nachdem sie ein paar beruhigende Atemzüge genommen hatte, öffnete sie ihre Augen, um zu sehen, was ihre Schwester tat. Hélène wickelte das Baby sorgfältig in eine warme, cremefarbene Decke, während sie leise ein Schlaflied summte. „Was ist es?“ fragte Anne und wartete mit angehaltenem Atem auf eine Antwort. „Eine Tochter. Du hast eine Tochter, meine liebe Schwester. Oh, und sie...