Death would truly be for me the hour of deliverance!…

Tags

Herculine Barbin, intersex, memoir, Paris, translation

My God! What remains to me now? Nothing. Cold solitude, sombre isolation! Oh! To live , always , in the centre of a crowd that surrounds me, without a word of love ever lighting up my soul, without a loving hand ever stretching towards me! Terrible and nameless punishment! Who could ever understand you? To carry within you ineffable treasures of love and to be to hide them like a shame, like a crime! To have a soul of fire and tell oneself: a virgin will never accord you the sacred rights of a husband. This supreme consolation of man on Earth, I can never taste it. Oh! Death! Death would truly be for me the hour of deliverance! Another Jew, I await it like the most frightening end of all ordeals!!! But you remain to me, my God! You wished that I belong to no one here, by none of these terrestrial links which raise man up in perpetuating your divine work! Sad and deprived, I can still raise my eyes towards you , because you at least, you will not push me away!

Five or six weeks after my visit to the prefect, I received the invitation to present myself in Paris, to M. the chief of the railway of… This letter filled me with joy. At the prospect of a trip to Paris joined the hope of soon abandoning a country that I viewed with horror, and finally escaping this ridiculous inquisition of which I was the object. The prefect I would see soon sincerely shared my satisfaction and entreated me not to defer my departure. My poor mother was radiant, even though the idea of a coming separation sadly intruded on this compensation which seemed to her already the dawn of a radiant future.

Always good and provident, M. de Saint-M… urgently recommended I go to Paris, to see one of his great-nephews who had lived there for a long time. He was not a stranger to me. He knew me. He knew my mother, and how devoted his family were to her. He welcomed me like a brother. Thanks to him I didn’t know the terrible shame of the thrust and for the first time into the whirlwind of tumultuous Paris.

The day after my arrival, he accompanied me to the administration of … where I saw the chief of the railway, M… I won’t write his very recognisable name here. In the short interview I had with him, I asked him as a favour to be employed in Paris, this he promised me. His last words were these: “Return to B… and wait for your nomination as soon as possible.”

I therefore left Paris two days later, having barely registered it, but counting on being able to revisit properly. The time I passed at B… was untroubled by serious incident. I went out every day and always . The noise of my adventure started to die down. The situation was better understood now that it was out in the open. I must say that those to whom I was showed me greater sympathy since the initial shock of recent events. “Poor child,” said a mother whose daughter had been my friend and study companion, “I like him more now because I can doubly appreciate him. He must have suffered terribly.”

Abel in the 1985 film Mystère Alexina

They were the beautiful days of a life now doomed to abandonment

Tags

Herculine Barbin, hypertext, intersex, medical notes, memoir, translation

I think I’ve said everything concerning that phase of my life as a young girl. They were the beautiful days of a life now doomed to abandonment, to cold isolation. Oh my God! What would my fate be! But You wanted it, without doubt so I shall remain silent. On returning to B… we had to busy ourselves with the proceedings relative to my appearance in society as a subject belonging to the masculine sex.

Doctor H… had already prepared an extensive report, masterpiece in the medical style, aiming to bring about before the courts a petition for rectification, which would be ordained by the court of S…, where I was born.  with this document, I left for that town, also  with special recommendations for the presiding judge and the imperial prosecutor. My mother accompanied me. Our first visit was to the old curate my family had known for a long time. I won’t attempt to give an idea of his naïve astonishment on reading the letter that Monseigneur de B had written him on this subject. You can easily imagine. Such cases are so rare they can’t help but excite curiosity. M. the president of L… de V… gave us the warmest welcome. After appraising himself of all the facts and asking me a few questions he said, “You will go to M. D…, my lawyer, on my behalf and take him all these papers. The rest can be done without you. If your presence is needed later, we’ll let you know.” We left the next day, without informing my family of what was on the horizon. I wanted to keep the secret right until the end which would be soon anyway. One person was included though: my maternal grandfather. He was shocked, as he mistakenly foresaw an outcome that’d be dangerous to all. I tried my best to calm him, assuring him that everything was being done legally and conveniently.

No one but him knew the reason for our journey; however, I must point out several remarks, strange to say the least, that were made about my person that were all confided to me afterwards. An intimate friend of my mother had been singularly struck by my bearing, by my experience, my manner which was rather cavalier. It was the same elsewhere, for example, at the hospital where I’d  for three years until I was 10 amongst young orphans of my age. I met the chaplain again with infinite pleasure. The Mother Superior still called me her dear daughter. She took us to the door chatting. During that time a young girl of the house, who’d considered me a favourite companion, watched us from a window. She remarked that I had my umbrella under my left arm and that I held my right hand behind my back. That didn’t seem very gracious to her for a . My movements matched my physiognomy, hard and severely accentuated.

I’d been back at B… for about a fortnight when the lawyer in charge of the petition informed me that the court had, at a first hearing, appointed doctor G… to carry out a new examination before a definitive sentence was reached and that my presence was required at the doctor’s surgery.

I resigned myself to it. I’d been expecting it.

Needless to say, this second examination gave the same result as the first, and that, after his report, the civil court of S… ordered that the civil status registers be rectified to show that I belonged to the masculine sex and at the same time a new name was substituted for the feminine one I’d been given at birth.

I was at B… when this decree was handed down. I was sent the details of the judgement that were later consigned in the Annals of legal medicine.

On consulting this work I discovered that a similar case happened in 1813 in the Midi region of France, if not in the same circumstances, then with the same outcome.

So it was done. My civil status called me to belong to that half of the human race called the strong sex from now on. Brought  in religious houses until the age of 21, among timid companions, I would, like Achilles, leave far behind me a delicious past and enter into the lists,  with my only weakness and with my profound inexperience of men and things!

I asked myself if I wasn’t the plaything of an impossible dream

Tags

hypertext, intersex, memoir, translation

The next day, at the same time, I was at the bishopric. Monseigneur was waiting for me. “I’ve had an interview with Doctor H…,” he said to me. “Go to his surgery today, with your mother.” I’d told her about it the day before. Her anxiety was beyond words. At the arranged time we arrived at the doctors. He was not what is widely recognised as a doctor but he was a man of science in every sense of the word.

He understood the seriousness of the mission which he’d been given. It flattered his pride as it was certainly the first of its kind he’d been assigned, and I must say, he was up to the task.

Despite this, I had not expected him to give me such a rigorous examination.

I hated watching him discovering my dearest secrets and some of his questions seemed like such violations that I could barely restrain myself in answering.

“Here,” he said to me, “you must not only see me as a doctor, but as a confessor. I need to know everything as well as to see for myself. This moment is serious for you, even more than you think, perhaps. I must be able to answer for you in total security, to Monseigneur first of all, and undoubtedly before the law as well, which may call on me as a witness.” I won’t go into the minute details of the examination here, after which the science capitulated, convinced.

All that remained now was to undo an error committed outside the bounds of all ordinary rules. To undo it, it was necessary to instigate a judgement that would rectify my civil status.

“Frankly,” the good doctor said to me, “your godmother had a stroke of genius calling you Camille. Give me your hand mademoiselle; in a while, I hope, we’ll call you something else. When I leave you, I’ll go to the bishopric. I don’t know what Monseigneur will decide, but I doubt that he’ll permit you to return to L… There, your position is lost; it cannot be tolerated. What is beyond me is that my colleague at L… compromised himself to the point of letting you stay so long, knowing what you are. As for Madame P…, her naivety is unfathomable.” He then addressed some comforting words to my mother, whose stupefaction was at its height. “You’ve lost your daughter, it’s true,” he said to her, “but you’ve gained a son who you weren’t expecting.”

Our entrance into the appartment of M. de Saint-M… was an event. The old nobleman was pacing up and down to hide his feverish impatience. On seeing us, he stopped; my mother guided him to a chair and sat at his feet. I put myself at some distance, not wishing to start the story of what had just happened. From time to time M. de Saint-M… raised his eyes to me and responded to the details my mother was giving him with an exclamation. He was stupefied at first, but he then saw the situation more calmly, calculating that in the future it could give me a more advantageous position. With the right protection, one can only hope for it. “All the same,” he said, “I’ve had to wait 80 years to witness such an outcome, and it’s you, Camille, who has brought it about! May you be happy later, poor child!” I was so I couldn’t reply; my delirious imagination couldn’t fix on a serious or rational thought. Every now and again I asked myself if I wasn’t the plaything of an impossible dream.

The inevitable outcome that I’d predicted, desired even, now scared me like a revolting enormity. I had definitely provoked it, it had undoubtedly been my duty; but who knows? Perhaps I’d been wrong. This abrupt change which was going to expose me in unexpected ways, wouldn’t it ruin any chance of respectability?

Would the world, so severe, so blind in its judgments consider this a movement that could pass for loyalty, and not think more to spoil it, to accuse me of a crime?

“My God! Is it possible!”

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drafts, Herculine Barbin, hypertext, intersex, memoir, translation

[This is the 4^th draft of my translation, the previous three drafts are shown in my translator’s journal]

Some time later the pains I’d been having returned more frequently, more intensely. Sara was worried, constantly nagging me to see a doctor. I didn’t want to agree for anything but the violence of the pain made me give in.

Informed by her daughter, Madame P… called Doctor T… I’ve never forgotten that visit; I can recall the smallest details of it, even now. It was nearly six o’clock in the evening. We hadn’t yet lit the lamps. The apartment I found myself in with the doctor was plunged into a semi-darkness but I didn’t complain. The answers I gave to his questions mystified rather than enlightened him. He wanted to examine me. As far as doctors and patients are concerned, we all know that the doctor enjoys certain privileges that the patient can’t contest. During this operation I heard him sighing, as if he wasn’t satisfied with his examination. Madame P… was there, waiting for him to speak.

I was waiting too, but in an entirely different frame of mind. Standing by my bed, the doctor looked at me with interest. Several times he let slip heavy exclamations like: “My God! Is it possible!”

I understood from his gestures that he would’ve liked to prolong the examination to bring the truth to light!!!…

He lifted up the bedcovers. My disordered clothes revealed the upper part of my body! The doctor’s hand wandered over it, indecisive, trembling, until it reached my abdomen, the site of my pain. While groping about he undoubtedly pressed where it hurt most as I let out a piercing cry and vigorously pushed him away. He then sat down next to me, gently insisting that I gather my courage; no doubt he needed to do the same. His faltering expression betrayed an extraordinary agitation.

“I beg you,” I said to him “get off, you’re killing me!”

“Mademoiselle, I only ask you to give me one minute, then it will be done.”

He slipped his hand under the sheet and went straight for the sensitive spot. He pressed down on it several times as if by doing so he could find the solution to a difficult problem. His hand didn’t stop there!!! He found the explanation he was looking for! But it was obvious that it surpassed all his expectations! The poor man was overcome with a terrible emotion. Several times he started to speak but kept stopping himself, as though he were afraid of what he might say. I wished he were a hundred feet under the ground!!!

Madame P… understood nothing of what was going on. Out of pity for me she wanted to cut short this exhausting scene by taking the doctor away.

“Goodbye, mademoiselle,” he said to me, half-smiling; “we’ll be seeing each other again!!!”

I got up straight away to re-join Sara who was busy in the study. She questioned me with a look. In a few words I told her what had happened.

At dinner I noticed that Madame P… was more serious than usual. She could not hide her feelings; her anxiety and her confusion were visible. When the meal was over I went to warm myself in the kitchen a moment; “Mademoiselle Camille,” she said to me, “I have sent for the medicine the doctor prescribed. But he won’t be coming back; I’m totally against it.”

What did such an order, from her, signify? Did she know something, and fear to know more? I asked myself this without actually acknowledging that she’d spoken. When we to bed, Sara told me that the doctor had had a long chat with her mother. But that was all. It was enough to fill me with fears that were shared by my friend!!! I later learned that, during that ultimate chat, the doctor had asked Madame P… a plethora of delicate questions about me without overtly explaining why. She had barely replied, being incapable of believing the thoughts that motivated these questions. Her soul wasn’t open to suspicion; she couldn’t bear it, she rejected it wholeheartedly. Faced with such blind obstinacy, the doctor decided he wasn’t obliged to take the initiative that his title and faith usually demanded of him as an honest man. He contented himself with suggesting that I be removed from her house as soon as possible, believing that, with this, he had cleared himself of all responsibility.

Let me repeat it: his duty demanded a different course of action. In similar circumstances, indecision was not allowed, it was a serious error, not simply morally, but also in the eyes of the law. Frightened of the secret he’d uncovered, he preferred to bury it forever!

A true sword of Damocles hung above our heads…

Tags

confession, Herculine Barbin, hypertext, intersex, memoir, translation

A missionary monk was preaching at the retreat; exercises took place in the convent chapel, a sacred asylum which, without doubt, I was seeing for the last time!!!…

I was in need of this religious calm, in the midst of the ever increasing agitations of my life!

At that moment, perhaps, I was putting an insurmountable barrier between the past and the future; I needed to gather myself in front of God!!!

My project was to open myself up, in all frankness, to this unknown confessor and wait for his judgement! One can imagine the surprise, the stupefaction which my strange confession caused him!!!…

I’d done it! He kept silent, pensive. My failures, my miseries only caused him to feel the sweetest commiseration.

I had, to put it this way, put my fate in his hands, in asking him to be my judge! “My child,” he said, “the situation is most serious and demands serious reflection, I cannot give you a plan of action straight away. Come back tomorrow, and in two days I can give you my opinion.”

My anxiety was overwhelming. I felt my existence hung on these words promised to me. I didn’t sleep, or else I slept badly. The fixed delay passed; here is the advice the abbot gave me: “I will not tell you,” he said to me, “what you, like me, already know; that is, that you could, from now on, take the title of man which rightfully belongs to you. Assuredly you could, but how would you go about obtaining it? At the price of the greatest scandals, perhaps. However, you cannot keep your current position which is full of danger. I advise you this: withdraw from the world and enter the religious life; but make sure to renew the confession you made me, a convent of nuns would not admit you. This is the only solution I propose, and believe me, accept it.”

I left without promising anything, I was not prepared for such a result.

He proposed I avoided a blow by creating an even more dangerous situation which would inevitably end in scandal. And besides, I didn’t have the least taste for the religious life. I felt too strongly against it; I was  to everything, rather than ruining it all. In this state of affairs, I decided to wait for what would come.

The next day I left D… In separating myself from my dear mistress, I was  that I would never see her again, at least not in the same condition! Everything was finished between us! A gulf would separate us! This thought saddened me greatly.

I saw her angelic gaze fixed upon mine while my hands pressed hers!!!

My God! If she could have read my soul!!

I bent my forehead to her pure lips, and mine touched her cheek!!! It was done! I had forever broken the sweet links of my past!!!

at B…, I avoided all meaningful conversation with extreme care, either with my mother, or with M. de Saint-M…, whose touching concern did not abandon me.

After his lunch I read him the newspaper and I put his business papers in order.

We chatted informally with the abandon that comes with trust and reciprocal esteem.

I went then to put the intimate thoughts, impressions, regrets of each day down in writing; it was all destined for Sara who sent me a long letter weekly which I devoured in the silence of the night. Each of these missives implored me to shorten our separation! We were in mid-October. I had promised Madame P… that I would be back with her around this time and I wanted to keep that promise. How much longer could I spend in her house? I did not know. An explosion could occur from one moment to the next. I was resigned to it in advance. The closer the crisis came, the more my strength increased! But Sara!

The carriage service had been changed. This time I did not arrive at L… until midnight. They were not awaiting me at that hour. Madame P… was in bed, she cordially embraced me and wanted to get up to feed me, but I formally refused.

“So,” she said, “go quickly to rest. Sara is in bed, she is certainly asleep. She will like the surprise.”

I didn’t wait to be told twice. My young friend had recognised my voice.

She awaited me with open arms!!!

We hardly slept at all that night!!!…

Happiness took the place of sleep during those long hours!

We had so much to tell each other!!! Late the next morning we still hadn’t moved!

Madame P… came to open the curtains and scolded us teasingly for our laziness.

I wanted to respond in the same tone; but I was truly . After her mother had left, Sara told me a secret that distressed me! – tears suffocated her! If her fears were founded we would have both been lost! A true sword of Damocles hung above our heads.

My crime was kissing mademoiselle Sara too often

Tags

Herculine Barbin, hypertext, intersex, memoir, translation

At first, people had admired the intimacy between Sara and me but as it became slightly exaggerated, not to say suspicious, they soon criticised it. Assuredly they were a hundred miles from the truth.

Because of their ignorance, people made all kinds of comments. Finally some charitable gossips, of the kind to be found everywhere, thought they had to warn Madame P… in the name of a common decency which we’d ignored with our daily behaviour in front of our pupils.

Above all I came   fire. My crime was kissing mademoiselle Sara too often.

We remarked that we were the object of serious scrutiny by the children, some of whom were quite old. Seeing me lean over my friend and take her in my arms, they turned away with embarrassment, as if they feared seeing us blush. The boarders, above all, who were present when we woke and went to bed, showed more than once their surprise at certain small details by which they’d been struck. They obviously spoke about it amongst themselves. Things were being said in public and Madame P…, who feared for her house above everything else, was seriously affected.

Not daring to speak to me, she called her daughter. Sara, she said to her, I must beg you to be more reserved in your relations with mademoiselle Camille. You love each other too much, it makes me happy; but even young girls must be careful for the sake of propriety. This commencement of hostilities made us tremble for the future. What would it be like when the truth came out!!!

We continued to share the same bed!!! This had not come into the recommendations of Madame P… who didn’t know about it. She wasn’t about to suspect us either. The excellent woman was too sincerely virtuous and her confidence in us was too blind for her thoughts to rest on such an idea. Her two eldest daughters, more perceptive than she was, and both married, were not so indulgent towards us. However, neither ever directed an accusative word towards me; their relations with me were always of an affectionate politeness. Nonetheless, I thought I saw that their curiosity was roused.

From time to time family reunions were held at Madame P…’s and I was invariably  . Madame P… said to us: My children, the boarders will dine a bit earlier tonight, as for you, you’ll eat upstairs.

If I’d refused, Sara would’ve refused too: that was well known. These meetings were exclusively composed of my friend’s sisters and their husbands. They loved Sara but, in contrast, they seemed uneasy around me. How to explain that?… This unease was hardly perceptible; you had to be me to notice it! For their part it was nothing but endless courtesy and perpetual allusions to their young sister-in-law’s marriage. She accepted this with apparent cheerfulness of which I   had the secret!…

I was mad with joy…

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Herculine Barbin, hypertext, intersex, memoir, translation

I was born to love…

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Herculine Barbin, intersex, memoir, translation

to the Teacher training school of … A few miles barely separated me from it. Nevertheless the voyage was an event for me. It was necessary to cross the ocean; so I was going to find the charms of novelty there.

at D…, the captain drove me to the convent. Its aspect was simple and modest like the lives of those who lived there.

I don’t know what inexpressible trouble came to seize me when I crossed the threshold of that house. It was of pain and shame. What I felt, no human word can express it.

This will seem unbelievable, undoubtedly, because after all I was

 

I was seventeen, and I was going to find myself faced with

 

young girls, of whom some were barely sixteen. The very affectionate welcome of the mother superior

and, rather strangely,

to the class of teacher-students, the sight of all those fresh and charming faces smiling at me closed up my heart.

On all those young faces I read joy, contentment and

Something instinctive raised up in me, seeming to bar my entry to this sanctuary of virginity. The love of study, a feeling that dominated in me, gave me a distraction from the bizarre perplexity which took possession of all my being.

Those hoping to achieve the diploma numbered 20 to 25. Nevertheless, aside from our class, the same establishment contained at least a hundred small girls, as many boarders as day-pupils, forming two separate classes. An immense dormitory, composed of about 50 beds brought us all together.

At the two ends of this room there was a bed covered in white curtains, each occupied by a nun.

to having my own room for a long time, I suffered enormously in this community space. Above all, the wake-up call was torture for me, I would have liked to have not been obliged to get undressed in front of my friendly companions, not because I hoped to flee them, I loved them too much for that, but instinctively I was ashamed of the enormous distance which separated me from them physically speaking.

At that age when all the graces of women develop, I did not have that allure full of abandon, nor did I have that roundness of limbs which reveal youth in all its bloom. My complexion, of a sickly paleness, denoted a state of permanent suffering. My traits had a certain hardness which one couldn’t help but notice. A light duvet which grew every day covered my upper lip and a part of my cheeks. Understandably, this particularity often attracted jokes which I tried to avoid by making frequent use of scissors as razors. Unsurprisingly, I only succeeded in making it thicker and even more noticeable.

My body was literally covered, I also carefully avoided uncovering my arms, even in the strongest heat, unlike my companions. As for my size, I was ridiculously thin. All of that struck the eye, I saw myself every day. I must say, however,

by my teachers and my companions, and this affection I reciprocated well, but in an almost fearful manner.

all the faculties of my soul pushed me to it; under an appearance of coldness, and almost indifference, I had a heart of fire.

My state, without causing concern, was not more natural…

Tags

Herculine Barbin, intersex, memoir, translation

At his house I had my lesser and greater tasks.

When his health permitted it, and it was beloved distraction for him, he made me reread and minutely consult enormous bundles of family papers.
“Come close to me, Camille,” he said to me, “and see if you can find this or that letter, in connection with that affair that you know so well”.
I read slowly, stealing glances in his direction to see if I had satisfied him.
The reading over, I carried on looking and found some fragments of an intimate correspondence. For the most part, they were letters from a sister or from his older brother, a brave general of the Empire, gloriously injured on our great battlefields.

with such a find because the topic afforded him a wealth of stories which I listened to with unequalled avidity.
Even though I was very young, his confidence in me was limitless.
As I’ve already said, I am well-read. My judgement developed early. At the age when one still belonged to adolescence.

and none of the principal facts of our history, so full of events, was unknown to me.
At the same time each day, my young mistress came to sit close to her grandfather, she was his favourite; but her presence didn’t interrupt the work we had started.
When evening arrived, I read the paper.
During this reading, he sometimes closed his eyes and leant back against the cushions. The first time I saw he’d fallen asleep I stopped.
He noticed immediately.

He said to me, and on hearing my negative response, he bid me continue. I had to read everything save the serial.

It is true that I didn’t miss out. 

I thus devoured a large collection of old and modern works, stacked on the shelves of a library next to my room.
More than once, I caught myself at this occupation late into the night. It was my recreation, my relaxation. This way I acquired more than a useful education, I have to say.

I admit that

on reading Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Those who know of them will get the idea. This find was of a singularity which the rest of my story will unequivocally prove.

The years passed by. I turned 17. My state, without causing concern, was not more natural.
The doctor I consulted recognised every day that the most significant remedies were inefficient. He ended up deciding not to worry about it, leaving everything to time.

I was soon at ease in that holy house…

Tags

Herculine Barbin, intersex, memoir, Nicole Brossard, Suzanne de Lotbiniere-Harwood, translation

A few days later I entered the convent of S… as a boarder. The good sister M… wanted to accompany me and hand me over personally into the hands of the Mother Superior.

I will never forget the impression that woman made when I first saw her. I’d never seen so much majestic grandeur nor such an expressive beauty underneath a religious habit. I later discovered that the Mother, who was called, Eléonore belonged to the highest ranks of Scottish nobility.

Her bearing was proud and inspired respect. Though you couldn’t see a more sympathetic or attractive face. To see her was to love her. To her very extensive knowledge she could add a rare skill, which she demonstrated in the management of the house. The unlimited consideration she enjoyed in high society made her an authority in the town.

I’m not the only one who can attest to the fact that she deserved it in every respect. As I write these lines she’s no longer alive, and I feel that I will miss her forever. Her memory is still one of the sweetest that remains to me. During the incredible agitations of my life I liked to remember the softness of her angelic smile and it made me more cHEerful.

I was soon at ease in that holy house , under the aegis of an affection which I instinctively treaSIRed with pride and which gave me as much satHISfaction.

The boarders were numerous, and as I said, it was mainly composed of young girls who would be later called to occupy a certain rank in society, either by their birth, or by their wealth.

There was, therefore, a gulf between them and me which could only be closed by the future. However, they never made me suffer for that difference which young people sometimes understand all too quickly, and which, at the encouragement of older children, they cruelly abuse.

They all loved me, but I have to say it, I didn’t feel any pride at this because I believed that from then on my affection had no value in their eyes.

Study was taken seriously and was confined to truly intelligent hands. I was accompliSHEd and had a real aptitude for serious study, I soon profited from them greatly. My progress was rapid and more than once caused the astonishment of my excellent teachers.