La Chartreuse d´Ardon

Pierre Besson & SAGReiss

La Correrie & Voiron (Isère) - 12 avril 2013

The major-domo of M. de Besance was wondering how he could fill the place of the caned lackey whose arm would be useless for a week. Well, he would have to wait upon the table himself. Monsieur was undoubtedly a hard case, and perhaps it would be better to take no chances. M. de Besance had sent strict orders for the careful entertainment of these guests. The accident was terrible! He must make amends for it. He glanced at the face of the sufferer. A restorative perhaps, something unusual. He bowed and retired, to return presently with a small, squat, greenish-black bottle. Continue reading...


Pierre par SAGReiss - 10h57
Pierre chez Béatrice Magnin par SAGReiss - 10h57

Cirque de Saint-Même par SAGReiss - 12h23

Cirque de Saint-Même par SAGReiss - 12h23

Pierre par SAGReiss - 12h35

Pierre par SAGReiss - 12h35

Monastère de la Grande Chartreuse par SAGReiss -
                13h17

Monastère de la Grande Chartreuse par SAGReiss - 13h17

Crucifixion par SAGReiss - 13h49

Crucifixion par SAGReiss - 13h49

SAGReiss par Pierre - 14h01

SAGReiss par Pierre - 14h01

Pierre par SAGReiss - 14h05

Pierre par SAGReiss - 14h05

Arbre par SAGReiss - 14h07

Arbre par SAGReiss - 14h07

Fleurs par SAGReiss - 14h08

Fleurs par SAGReiss - 14h08

Crucifixion de Pierre par SAGReiss - 14h22

Crucifixion de Pierre par SAGReiss - 14h22

SAGReiss par Pierre - 14h23

SAGReiss par Pierre - 14h23

Arbre par SAGReiss - 14h46

Arbre par SAGReiss - 14h46

Pierre par SAGReiss - 15h47

Pierre par SAGReiss - 15h47

Vitrail par SAGReiss - 15h56

Vitrail par SAGReiss - 15h56

Caves de la Chartreuse par SAGReiss - 17h14

Caves de la Chartreuse par SAGReiss - 17h14

Tarte aux Poireaux par SAGReiss - 17h25

Tarte aux Poireaux par SAGReiss - 17h25

Aftermath par SAGReiss - 6h27

Aftermath par SAGReiss - 6h27

Barfly de juillet 2009

SAGReiss par Mike - 22h14

Chartreuse

Chartreuse, you got the color that turns me loose.
Chartreuse, that color just turns me loose.
Better than magenta, better than fuchsia,
You got a shade that gets rid of the blues.

Chocolate mousse, don’t you know I like a big caboose.
Chocolate mousse, you know I like that big caboose.
It’s sure sweet, it lights my fuse.
I said, it’s sure sweet, babe, it lights my fuse.

Chartreuse, that color just turns me loose.
Chartreuse, you got the color that turns me loose.
When you get the blues, baby, I got the juice.
If you get the blues, remember I got the juice.

Demande de Main Levée

The marquis’ expression changed. He watched the cork-drawing with the eye of an expert and could find nothing at which to cavil. The man’s precise mixture of art and ritual was impeccable. A divine odour as of a basket of fresh, ripe peaches left in the sun filled the room. With good care and a steady hand the butler decanted the upper inch of the liquid into a glass that had been carefully wiped, and handed it to Don Luis. The latter inhaled the bouquet and a look of understanding passed between the two men. It was an occasion.

“Of the year of Malplaquet, Your Excellency,” said the man bowing.

The marquis drank slowly. Old toper as he was he was scarcely prepared for the surcharged flavour. It would have been cloying had it not been accompanied by a fiery glow that might have made a salamander start. The marquis just succeeded in not choking, and finished the glass. His eyes shone. He was surprised that such a beverage existed. It was worth having come from Paris just to sniff the bouquet. A genial glow miraculously combined with a delightful languor swam through his veins. His leg ceased to stab. When the mist of pain and the dullness of fatigue cleared from his eyes as though someone had washed a dusty window, he now saw that he was seated in an apartment furnished with an exquisite but somewhat outmoded taste.

“Monsieur need not move,” said the butler. He lit a fire of resinous wood which instantly began to crackle and throw lambent shadows about the brass and irons and white marble mantelpiece where two satyrs grinned at each other through a tracery of leaves and grapes.

It was not the first nobleman the old servant had treated for the gout with brandy. The great thing to do was to keep them still. “Hot water and a valet will be here instantly, Your Excellency. You shall be made comfortable.” He covered the bottom of the glass again. “Supper will also be served here, and I shall have an apartment prepared for monsieur on the ground floor. The stairs are unnecessary. I did not know of His Excellency’s affliction or the chamber on this floor should have been ready upon his arrival. Another accident for monsieur is unthinkable! The new room will take some few moments. After dinner it will be ready. Monsieur can retire then, if he desires, without going upstairs.”

The man waited without seeming to do so for a sign of approval. Don Luis knew when he was being well served. A major-domo of the old school was rare in this degenerate reign. He raised his hand in a gesture of assent and let it fall back to the stem of his glass. The man retired. His queue, the precisely horizontal bow, and every line of his back were at once respectful and correct. As he turned to close the door silently he saw the guest of his master sitting dreamfully with his nose poised like a beak just over the rim of the glass. In his eyes there was an expression of great content.

Anthony Adverse (1933), volume one: The Roots of the Tree, book I: In which the Seed Falls in the Enchanted Forest, chapter 2: The Little Madonna by Hervey Allen

Ordonnance de
          Refus

Madame le Président, j´irai ou je n´irai pas enterrer mon père sur le Mont des Oliviers, mais je ne demanderai plus d´autorisation.

SAGReiss