But soon, without any need to be guided by the charitable Mme Cottard, the faithful had succeeded in overcoming the qualms which they had all more of less felt at first on finding themselves in the company of M. de Charlus. No doubt in his presence they were incessantly reminded of Ski's revelations, and conscious of the sexual abnormality embodied in their travelling companion. But this abnormality itself had a sort of attraction for them. It gave to the Baron's conversation, remarkable in itself but in ways which they could scarcely appreciate, a savour which, they felt, made the most interesting conversation, even Brichot's appear slightly insipid in comparison. From the very outset, moreover, they had been pleased to admit that he was intelligent. "Genius is sometimes akin to madness," the Doctor declared, and when the Princess, athirst for knowledge, questioned him further, said not another word, this axiom being all that he knew about genius and in any case seeming to him less demonstrable than everything relating to typhoid and arthritis. And as he had become proud and remained ill-bred: "No questions, Princess, do not interrogate me, I'm at the seaside for a rest. Besides, you wouldn't understand, you know nothing about medicine." And the Princess apologised and held her peace, deciding that Cottard was a charming man and realising that celebrities were not always approachable. In this initial period, then, they had ended by finding M. de Charlus intelligent in spite of his vice (or what it generally so named). Now it was, quite unconsciously, because of that vice that they found him more intelligent than others. The simplest maxims to which, adroitly provoked by the sculptor or the scholar, M. de Charlus gave utterance concerning love, jealousy, beauty, because of the strange, secret, refined and monstrous experience on which they were based, assumed for the faithful that charm of unfamiliarity with which a psychology analogous to that which our own dramatic literature has offered us from time immemorial is clothed in a Russian or Japanese play performed by native actors. They might still venture, when he was not listening, upon a malicious witticism at his expense. "Oh!" the sculptor would whisper, seeing a young railwayman with the sweeping eyelashes of a dancing girl at whom M. de Charlus could not help staring, "if the Baron begins making eyes at the conductor, we shall never get there, the train will start going backwards. Just look at the way he's staring at him: this isn't a puffer-train but a poofter-train." But when all was said, if M. de Charlus did not appear, they were almost disappointed to be travelling only with people who were just like everybody else, and not to have with them this painted, paunchy, tightly-buttoned personage, reminiscent of a box of exotic and dubious origin exhaling a curious ordour of fruits the mere thought of tasting which would turn the stomach.
Marcel Proust, Cities of the Plain, pp. 1074-1075
M. de Charlus continues to fascinate not only Marcel but also the broader "smart set" of society. Proust notes, "In this initial period, then, they had ended by finding M. de Charlus intelligent in spite of his vice (or what it generally so named). Now it was, quite unconsciously, because of that vice that they found him more intelligent than others." At the same time they certainly had no trouble harboring homophobic beliefs about him. "They might still venture, when he was not listening, upon a malicious witticism at his expense. 'Oh!' the sculptor would whisper, seeing a young railwayman with the sweeping eyelashes of a dancing girl at whom M. de Charlus could not help staring, 'if the Baron begins making eyes at the conductor, we shall never get there, the train will start going backwards. Just look at the way he's staring at him: this isn't a puffer-train but a poofter-train.'" Yes, the complexity and perversity of the human mind wherein it, even among folks educated enough to be more discerning, can ably contain both extreme views. However, are they polar opposite views? I'm flashing back to the concept of the "magic negro," which I learned from my friends in Folklore studies. You see that character all the time in literature and especially in cinema (think of The Matrix), the marginalized minority character who yet, oddly, because of their marginalization contains some essential knowledge or greater truth that is beyond the understanding of the majority characters. Truthfully, I don't know enough about the concept to speak more intelligently about it, and clearly I need to go pester my friends Steve and Kerry and pick their brains. On the one hand I want to think that it's nothing more than a conscious or unconscious desire to make up for the lack of giving such characters a bigger role in the narrative. However, on the other hand I suspect there's also something more profound going on, which may also bring us back to one of our favorite discussion topics: the need to exoticize our lives, in this case by exoticzing the lives of others. Following this logic (or in my case, my consistent lack of logic) would M. de Charlus exist as the "magic homosexual" in the story?
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