Trafford Publishing: The Sublime Heights of Generous Passions

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The Sublime Heights of Generous Passions

by Ernst Delma

423 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0293; ISBN 1-55369-480-5; US$32.50, C$36.95, EUR26.50, £18.50

A love story between two individuals gifted of superior intelligence. Their ideology and their commitment to humanity make of their loving acquaintance, if not a platonic experience, but a philosophic sentiment.

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About the Book About the Author Excerpts Catalogue Information

About the Book

A fate impregnated of unspoken prophecies, a phenomenal tour de force - to properly speak - a tour de force commanding a favorable manipulation of the things of life has brought together what nature has created to live in harmony and that all egocentric human conventions tend to shamelessly set apart through racial pretexts and irrelevant schemes.
On a propitious stage - laid by Providence, supreme architect, unforeseeable genie of organization, as by enchantment, as by an imperious necessity, as if nature wanted to impose its supreme will in the intimacy of human affairs - are joined two destinies dressed for the conquest, the mastery and the triumph of life's noblest sentiments. In an exceptional situation arranged by a circumstance of the most unaccustomed came to life one of the most striking episodes of life sagacious occurrences promoter of those sentiments that are said to be too beautiful to be true. Two human entities joined wisdom, patience and stubbornness to ensure the triumph of the most powerful because the truest and the purest sentiments of life.
Gustave Brun - a man of color from humble social and economic background - has become the archetype of intellectual success, possessor of solid almost autodidactic Academic formation. Having walked his way with small but firm steps up to the zone where elitist intellectualism finds its more explicit definition, he silently nourished a male desire to succeed instilled in him by the harsh existence he has survived. A huge, quiet, logic and understandable ambition -"a vaulting ambition which overleaps itself," would say William Shakespeare - stayed the beacon that has led every single one of his short but constant strides in the long but fruitful crusade for the fulfillment of his manly aspirations.
Holder of undeniable credentials, he transcended to deserve a Professorial chair of Cultural Anthropology in one of the most prestigious establishments of Education on earth, as it occurs Princeton University. Yet, he still felt short on his success, which he acknowledged, unfinished until he would have the opportunity to add to his intellectual accomplishment what he would eventually consider as the most important acquisition of his lifetime: love, true love, the one that crowns all human longings.
Her Assistant secretly hung his heart high on the frontispiece of love, and - as he is going to admit it later - since day one, since his hungry eyes, thirsty of romantic complicity were posed on her adorable silhouette. Celine Lakadus, young female Caucasian, bearer of a proverbial sweetness in the neighborhood of culture, innate sweetness inside-outly expressed and inherited from the Latin background of her Romanian father, heiress of a colossal otherwise extravagant fortune and possessor of what can ensure high life standards in uppercase characters.
At the paroxysm of her womanly dreams, armed with a solid cultural formation, her quest for happiness came to an unexpected height when fate has placed on her way at the right time the unexpected and the inevitable. Her who felt before like abandoned on the endless boulevard of ecstasy - by fault of her own demanding character when it comes to sentimental questions - as a flower condemned to wither at the next dry season suddenly learned to dream.
Gustave Brun, her former mentor, stole her heart. She has learned - aided by her natural perspicacity to weigh details and to discover the truth of all things. During the course of several months of frank camaraderie although limited to intellectual exchange of ideas, she has arrived to the self-persuasion plateau and assessed him as being the man she's been expecting for so long. Why, would ask the stupefied, petrified spectator? "Reasons of the heart that reason ignores", she would argue.
For both, it's the renaissance of life in its entire splendor. A life that appeared for both senseless in its essence where any materialistic accomplishment that it is economic, intellectual or else could barely replace the heart's sentiments or provide the necessary nourishment to the soul's well-being. Their search for romantic outpourings reached its momentum when least expected; and existence suddenly opened up on something sublime, inexpressive and without a definition in any language.
Settled by a turbulent although moderate mutual passion that inspired a certain commitment to live and the enjoyment of existence in its fullness, they gave in with a tremendous frenzy to the ecstasy born from such a benevolent occurrence. Since the first demonstration of shared endeavors between the two, it's been a fast-paced tango delivered on the shores of happiness. The whole thing was evolved in a so self-centered frenetic passion around their mutual feelings that not even thin air could penetrate the tight intimacy established in their midst.
A walk to lunch together in a busy downtown in the midst of a huge melee, a bold action for many, a couple of attractive human beings if not natural phenomena proper to excite curiosity or to engender disdain, to provoke admiration or to generate hatred. A transgression to the status quo that must be reproached or punished according to a certain standard of thinking contributed to the irreversibility of their acquaintance loving. Idiosyncratically, absurd behavior was about to give way through one of its most pitiful manifestations to grandiose life's calling.
And the incident occurred, an incident while aiming at engendering the evanescence of their young, enthusiastic, legitimate aspirations has transcended in an irreversible tour de force. An incident that could tip in the bottomless precipice of the impossible their mutual interest - although undeclared - has contributed instead to strengthen what was coming surely but in a subtle and undecipherable manner. It has indeed helped to the emancipation of their timorous feelings similar to the benevolent early morning dewdrops joining forces with the warm reflections of the sunset to favor the sudden blossoming of multicolored spring flowers.
Thus came to life a moving story between two sublime natures, two grandiose representatives of the human race and two peaceful champions of the social factor. They are bearers of a culture, a way of life, a standard of thoughts and actions they intend to bring to another level of philosophical comprehension. They answer with fashion and class to the call of love and reasons. They want to be two simple although sublime human beings in love with each other; they turn out to be recipients and carriers of sublime feelings, catalysts of salutary reconsiderations of racial and social priorities. Their worlds that everything could contribute to divide at the expense of their loving fervor would eventually be joined around love, engagement and finally the sacred knot of marriage. In the midst of this novella, their quest for happiness gives way to one of the most beautiful expressions of love based on comprehension and reciprocal respect, and also on a perfect mastery of their individual impulsions for the crowning of their ambitious longings for personal ecstasy beyond the boundaries of all alienating social conventions.
Their spiritual maturity elevates love to the height of a philosophical sentiment, a platonic representation of a vehement and burning affection for each other. They demonstrate through their sophisticated interlocution and throughout the development of the novel all the innocence, the disinterestedness, the magnificent purity and the vivaciousness of their mutual devotion.

About the Author

Ernst Delma was born in Jacmel, Haiti. He has completed his secondary classic studies to his baccalaureate in Lyceum Toussaint Louverture, Port-au-prince. He has completed his University education through the State University of Haiti, New York University, Devry University and Keller School of Management.
Early in his life, he has expressed his inclination for poetry and prose writing. Besides of having taught French and Haitian Literatures, Literary and Historic Dissertation, Poetic and Literary Analysis he is himself a fervent passionate of the pen, a lover of Humanities, and a man of letters. He has published his poems of youth in the hebdomad "The screen " of his hometown Jacmel. His first famous one* Vain Pursuit* - published by Father Bernard, a religious Canadian then Director of School in Jacmel - got good reviews among the youth and was worth him the pseudonym "Mister Poet* at age seventeen. Moreover, he has written essays, editorials, and lately - having regained his past fervor for poetry the delights of his tender ages - he has been publishing his verses through the National Library of Poetry and on the Internet through poetry. COM.
With this novel, Mr. Delma pretends to inaugurate the eventual publication of all his works. He has several manuscripts he intends to develop to their full length, and many poems of which he wishes to share the quintessence with his readers in a near future. And this will be only the beginning if the harvest responds positively to the difficulties of the sowing, and faithfully keeps the promise of the flowers.

Excerpts

The sun - in that radiant although humid afternoon of May - similar to a blazing globe spitting out invisible flames, fiery and unforgivable - curiously enough hit the earth as hard as possible, hammered the town of Princeton of its incandescent rays, with a furious fist, glittered on people and things with a remarkable ardor as on purpose, as if Mother Nature had devised to punish mankind for some infamy committed against mankind.
Its reflections overwhelmed the senses, tortured the muscles with a particular cruelty that fatigue resulted from yet such a remarkable splendor. What a splendid calamity its brightness mixed with its ardor has made way to! People's faces displayed the painful expression that mothers usually experience in the midst of giving birth.
One could have said that the supreme eye of the firmament was voluntary taking aim at knocking down, so suffocating were its waves .The clients of the streets were abundantly transpiring, were walking fast, almost shoving each other in every possible direction - as demented ants looking for some hideaway hole so to guard themselves against a sure extermination.
The people, on their part, took to a frantic race towards the cools and shaded spots of the overcrowded downtown, to more adequately breath for the next half hour or so in the intimacy of a fast-food restaurant, to dwell in the agreeable felicity that offers for a short moment the swilling of a cup of exceedingly iced soft-drink, preventing further lost of calories or - who could rule out such an eventuality - a possible dehydration. More realistic the ones who were wise enough having chosen to take to work their lunch boxes just to not have to leave the comfort zones guaranteed by the air-conditioned freshness of their offices.
Nassau street was humming, bubbling and left to the dazzled first-time visitor or even to the native spectator - stupefied of such an occurrence - the impression of a giant hive of humans devoted to all sorts of lucrative and leisurely activities.
At the green lights, the many hurried ones devoted themselves to a true and pitiless jostling, one could have thought with a high level of accuracy that the notions of courtesy, of generosity, and the knowledge of how to handle other humans were vain words.
People drawn so much of an incomprehensible vanity in stepping on others, one was carrying at one's own pace without making a way for others, placing their feet in the footsteps prepared by the ones who could hardly take a step. In a few words, one was cultivating one's own garden at one's own request, without taking in account the existence of the other. Selfishness - in that simple matter of letting a path open for the other - has won the case. Generosity - in the midst of that yet current and so simple social discomfort, ineffectual in the administration of human behavior - has left the planet earth.
Cars and trucks - obliged to slow down to give priority to that bothersome and importune human swarming - wanted, them also, to go at a faster rate. Apparently prevented in their effort to speed up through the overpopulated junctions, the drivers in sweat or simply in trance - particularly those who couldn't put up with the necessary air-conditioned - have difficulty hidden their diversely expressed discontentment.
At the terrible sensation to be in an oven behind the wheel was added the disagreeable constraint to have to go at turtle steps in the hole of feverish activities to which the legendary restful Nassau Street was transformed. Worried about to be on time for the next delivery, many didn't care that much to appear courteous on behalf of the pedestrians infringing that way the most elementary laws of traffic or simply stepping on purpose or by circumstantial egocentrism on the vital notions of human civility. They were all but knocking the demented-like clients of the streets.
Some of them drivers have loudly and clearly expressed their disagreement to that unwanted human embarrassment to adequate velocity by making an abusive usage of the f-words, of the b-words and all their corollaries.
To the elders, and without any sense of decency "Why don't you stay home at this time of the day or hire someone who can drive for God's sake. Your time's up old bags, bed time, leave us some space now. Go to hell or elsewhere." To the youngest spoilsports with colored hair that transformed the junctions into a playground: "Goddham butthead, psychedelic cranium, move your slow ass out of my way ." Perfect expressions of commanded, perhaps comprehensible but unnecessary anger. We don't always find the words we need to let out non-founded madness, should we get them, they're revealed resoundingly senseless.
In the midst of such a confused hubbub, a colored man, impeccably dressed - certainly one of those persons who believe that exterior appearances should leave a positive first impression, should count for something in the vast human trade, should force somehow respect, and finally should make a difference or simply be able to change things around - he was, with solemn and measured steps, leaving the University gate.
From his upholding and his graceful gait transpired the impression that he wanted to make to whoever desired to hear it the salutary statement around his social condition. Sometimes our physical maintenance stays the unique last hope, our sole safety valve against the world's indifference. Thus, the strategy of walking the right way, speaking an articulated language, eating with tight manner stay the only method of measurement, let's say better the only scale for appreciation, all other resources that they are intellectual or else having been proved inefficient. That explains our willingness to look like someone else. We all at a certain degree would like to be from Europe and change our names to Dupont or Plantagenet or York or Orleans or Bourbon or Medicis etc. and for a few of us even Frankenstein or count of Dracula would do it as long as it would make us sound not like us. Question of leaving our cultural zone, to decamp from the frontiers of our background with a desperate velocity.
The young colored man in question has understood the fact and intended to make a supreme effort on himself to show adherence to such an idiosyncratic social contract. Thus, he didn't leave to chance the care for the people around him to guess nor doubt of his importance and of his level of education. As a desperate conqueror, he thrown in the harsh social battle all the necessary resources, his most secret troops were unleashed to seize the land of the impossible or simply the difficult to please. A University Professor without a second of doubt he wanted to demonstrate that he was.
He was in fact - without any spirit of exaggerated partisanship - remarkably solemn in his pigeon-gray expensive suit partially hand-tailored by some master from the other side of the Ocean. Also, physical characteristics left aside what a sweet-tempered gentleman would discover in him anyone who would have the courage to know before judging, to go into details before affixing the sinister etiquette. He could in some land on earth provoke admiration if not respect, and he wouldn't even have to be the dark-skinned heroes in some fairy tale to draw some sincere sighs out of certain chests.
Walking by his side was a beautiful, young, white woman, in her twenties, expressing an energy and a vivacity transpired from her entire person, a graceful gazelle in her sure and energetic allure, beautiful enough to take someone's breath and soul away or simply eat away, raw and unsalted, the heart of a suitor. She was one of those faces not easy to forget once seen by someone not even when submitted to an intensive brainwash, a silhouette that enhances the atmosphere around by their presence, one of those persons whose company and the completeness of their persona honor, not only by the effect of the apparent look but also by the grace that escapes from their very self. Finally, one of those feminine splendors whose souls spread a perfume hardly perceptible and who force admirers to follow their steps. A saint would deliberately - without the pretext of having been seduced - grind his teeth then beg heaven's forgiveness for having mercy on his adultery soul. If color wasn't the sole snag to that perfect picture, to that stupendous multi-cultural -racial phenomenon, one would have cried "What a magnificent spectacle, if Boticelli has been around, he would have composed from it perhaps the most valuable masterpieces of all times ." But...
Their presence there, at that time of the day was more like an apparition, a phenomenon from beyond the terrestrial sphere that offered itself to the shocked eyes, to the subjugated admiration of every one in the human neighborhood. As a painting submitted to the appreciation of fine connoisseurs, or even an exotic plate left to the verdict of some seasoned gastronomes, the two have made sense together, enough sense, in effect, to get some sighs out of the most intransigent souls in matter of race relation. One would have said that the whole world has stopped breathing to admire them.
Consequently, a good section of the area between Witherspoon and Tulane streets was suspended to their steps. Someone was obliged to have for them, hypocritically or not, the eyes of the heart as one is forced to admire something on which one is convinced to pose one's eyes even for a moment. Being politically correct can be revealed a rare virtue sometimes. They were both for different reasons two forces of nature, one of svelteness and solemnity, and of intellectual pride and the other equally superb in the head, but also squarely aggressive of grace and beauty, and splendor, and simplicity. Two pure-sang, sorted breeds, legitimate samples of the two races that mankind has made a duty to set apart since, let's say as long as human memory can remember or history has ever related.
Drivers and pedestrians were unanimous to acknowledge into their union - whatever the circumstance that has commanded its necessity might have been - a pair of remarkable human specimens, a jewel made of the fusion of two kinds of matter of two different origins, a ring made of the black diamond from the African coppices surmounted of an European pearl picked on the Mediterranean shores. The whole prodigious magnificence laid down by the fate of things on the banks of the Hudson River.
They couldn't pass unnoticed in a melee of a million of souls. All proud they could be, they were going yet-a few seconds later- to experience the unfortunate truth that a lot of things are not meant to be, that the beauties pay the price of their beauty, that innocents pay a heavy tribute to the land where non-sense becomes a logic, an execrable, but somehow vital principle. They were about to find out that competence, intrinsic values-when not conformed to the populace's philosophy, when not curbed for a passive obedience to the status quo-are most of the time, and strangely enough punished instead of rewarded. They were going to pay the price of a public insult for having been made famous and noticed everywhere they went by the grace of nature itself.
At the exact moment they intended to invest the spot reserved to pedestrians bizarrely crowded that afternoon as if nature has placed so many souls there, as having summoned them to a hearing on purpose to be the witnesses of something otherwise spectacular, a delivery truck - driven by a white man stripped to the waist - posture that no one would have attributed to lack of principles in such circumstances but would have rather translated otherwise, question to survive the devastating heat waves-materialized suddenly from nowhere.
The driver seemed at that precise minute deliberately stepped on the gas pedal. One could have said so, judged by the sudden change in the throbbing sound of the engine. The colored man flew, he had to jump backward, as abruptly as a frightened bird, as agile as an acrobat, grabbing his companion by the arm, capsizing himself and her on the sidewalk proving that way to whomever wants to stay alive, to hang in existence a little longer, the etiquettes can be quickly forgotten. The bravest, the proudest and the most solemn human can be revealed sometimes a lot less brave, less proud and less solemn when it comes to decamp and to leave with long strides a zone of imminent danger. Thus, they escaped to the verdict of a certain death or at least of some broken bones.
In the meantime, and without being begged to do so, the driver - having chosen the least annoying of two alternatives simply to stay away at least temporarily from an imminent contravention- drove away at the surprise of every witness to the scene who, themselves, could have nevertheless demonstrated a higher degree of mansuetude, a deeper mark of affection for the two victims if they weren't who they were, leaving the impression they left, at full noon in the heart of the town, transgressing the strange social contract that their togetherness has naively transgressed.
For that simple reason, they were alone to savour the bitterness of their misadventure, without any solidarity in their trust to ensure the triumph of the reasons of the heart. Humanity has never been animated of that rare virtue to forgive - not even in the most tragic of the circumstances - or to have mercy on what they disapprove.
So, the two - unanimously disapproved by the very prominent virtues of their exterior appearances and of their racial characteristics - were abandoned to themselves to swallow the bitterness of such an embarrassing episode.

Catalogue Information