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Victor Hugo was devastated when his oldest and favorite daughter, Léopoldine, died at age 19 in 1843, shortly after her marriage. She drowned in the Seine at Villequier, pulled down by her heavy skirts, when a boat overturned. Her young husband Charles Vacquerie also died trying to save her. Victor Hugo was traveling with his mistress at the time in the south of France, and learned about Léopoldine's death from a newspaper as he sat in a cafe.[2] He describes his shock and grief in his poem À Villequier:
Hélas ! vers le passé tournant un oeil d'envie,
Sans que rien ici-bas puisse m'en consoler,
Je regarde toujours ce moment de ma vie
Où je l'ai vue ouvrir son aile et s'envoler !
Je verrai cet instant jusqu'à ce que je meure,
L'instant, pleurs superflus !
Où je criai : L'enfant que j'avais tout à l'heure,
Quoi donc ! je ne l'ai plus !
Alas! turning an envious eye towards the past,
unconsolable by anything on earth,
I keep looking at that moment of my life
when I saw her open her wings and fly away!
I will see that instant until I die,
that instant—too much for tears!
when I cried out: "The child that I had just now--
what! I don't have her any more!"
Even if they are from WAY the hell back in the day. For instance; Anne Rice. I've never read her works. Any fans? Dean Koontz? Stephen King? I've got a Kindle gift certificate, and I want to branch out from my usual fantasy fare.
Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine.
Even if they are from WAY the hell back in the day. For instance; Anne Rice. I've never read her works. Any fans? Dean Koontz? Stephen King? I've got a Kindle gift certificate, and I want to branch out from my usual fantasy fare.
George RR Martin !! a song of ice and fire series !!