Madame Descartes

The narrator does a greeat job of describing the beauty of Madame Descartes. He says, "Regal checkbones". He goes on to say, "The nearly opague sea blue eyes". The least of statements, "The silver of her hair, with astonishing gold. The words that he uses give me the ideal that he sees her as a "used to be. You know, in her day she was the look of a beauty queen. But now, she is gray-headed, old, but yet the beauty remains.

The narrator spends a a lot of time with how she looks. He talks about how much makeup she use, which is a lot. But yet, he finds admiration in how delicately she applys it.
In quote, "I's never seen a beauty like hers", what an interesting thing to say. The words that he use is , her beauty is singular, volcanic, viscous, lava, and close to vengeance. I have seen the type of beauty that the narrator is speaking of. A lady all in a class of her own. There is a danger in that kind of beauty. What I mean is that kind of beauty demands attention in a not natural way.

The historical background and the scence play very well in this piece of literature. Two people meeting in a cafe in Paris during was times. The narrator is a newspaper man. This particular woman has caused chaos between several continents. This could be very dangereous for the newspaper man. The newspaper man has carefully reviewed this woman's files, he is amazed at her pictures.

Madame Descartes begins her conversation with " I suppose I think the War years Were the worst". The narrator presents her personality well. There is not doubt about how she is looked at. She does not like her husband. Her life with him was not desireable to her. During war times a beautiful woman could survive on her looks. Madame is protrayed as a loose woman in the lime light of pictures.

The Rolliflex camera which her friend gave her plays a great part in the literature text. She would take pictures of the people that she met. In doing so, she was invisioning her life as well.
Madame kept a journal of her life. We can also see ourselves through journals like she did. Her life was not so pretty at times.

The last part of this text does leave me to wonder if something bad happened to this newpaperman because she spoke of pictures of death.