Balzac accordingly wrote it, and it figures in the Comedie humaine as Beatrix.  Beatrix is the Comtesse d’Agoult, the inspirer, and Liszt is the composer Conti.

“You have no idea yet of the awful rights that a love which no longer exists gives to a man over a woman.  The convict is always under the domination of the companion chained to him.  I am lost, and must return to the convict prison,” writes Balzac in this book.  Then, too, there is no mistaking his portrait of Beatrix.  The fair hair that seems to give light, the forehead which looks transparent, the sweet, charming face, the long, wonderfully shaped neck, and, above and beyond all, that air of a princess, in all this we can easily recognize “the fair, blue-eyed Peri.”  Not content with bringing this illustrious couple into his novel, Balzac introduces other contemporaries.  Claude Vignon (who, although his special work was criticism, made a certain place for himself in literature) and George Sand herself appear in this book.  She is Felicite des Touches, and her pen name is Camille Maupin.  “Camille is an artist,” we are told; “she has genius, and she leads an exceptional life such as could not be judged in the same way as an ordinary existence.”  Some one asks how she writes her books, and the answer is:  “Just in the same way as you do your woman’s work, your netting or your tapestry.”  She is said to have the intelligence of an angel and even more heart than talent.  With her fixed, set gaze, her dark complexion and her masculine ways, she is the exact antithesis of the fair Beatrix.  She is constantly being compared to the latter, and is evidently preferred to her.  It is very evident from whom Balzac gets his information, and it is also evident that the friendship between the two women has cooled down.

The cause of the coolness between them was George Sand’s infatuation for Chopin, whom she had known through Liszt and Madame d’Agoult.  George Sand wrote to Liszt from Nohant, in March, 1837:  “Tell Chopin that I hope he will come with you.  Marie cannot live without him, and I adore him.”  In April she wrote to Madame d’Agoult:  “Tell Chopin that I idolize him.”  We do not know whether Madame d’Agoult gave the message, but she certainly replied:  “Chopin coughs with infinite grace.  He is an irresolute man.  The only thing about him that is permanent is his cough.”  This is certainly very feminine in its ferociousness.

At the time when he came into George Sand’s life, Chopin, the composer and virtuoso, was the favourite of Parisian salons, the pianist in vogue.  He was born in 1810, so that he was then twenty-seven years of age.  His success was due, in the first place, to his merits as an artist, and nowhere is an artist’s success so great as in Paris.  Chopin’s delicate style was admirably suited to the dimensions and to the atmosphere of a salon.(25)