Cover
Gamiani -or- Two Passionate Nights by Alfred de Musset

Gamiani by Alfred de Musset

Gamiani – The classic tale of the obsessive pursuit of sensual pleasures which results in murder and suicide.

Gamiani was first published in 1833. Its authorship is anonymous, but it is believed to have been written by Alfred de Musset. The lesbian eponymous heroine is assumed to be a portrait of his lover, George Sand.  It became a bestseller among nineteenth century erotic literature.

This edition of Gamiani contains nine illustrations from the London edition of 1908. The illustrator was anonymous.

Excerpt

Gamiani

First Part

Midnight was striking, and Countess Gamiani’s reception rooms were still sparkling with a thousand lights.

The dancers were warming up to the sounds of a bewitching band in round dances and quadrilles. The ladies dresses were marvelous, the jewels a brilliant sight.

The fête had been organized at a vast expense, and the mistress of the house, gracious and smiling for all her guests, seemed happy at her success. One after another came to her to murmur their thanks in complimentary terms and this only added to her contentment.

As usual, I was satisfied to be a mere looker-on, but I had already remarked more than one detail that disinclined me to ascribe to Countess Gamiani all the virtues with which she was usually credited. I had already judged her as a woman of society. The task remained for me to dissect her moral character, to lay bare the region of her heart: and I do not know what strange, uneasy, incomprehensible feeling held me back in this probing of her nature. I felt I should have infinite trouble in penetrating this woman’s existence, perhaps because her conduct threw no light on it.

Still in the flower of her youth, with a considerable fortune, pretty enough for most people, this woman without relatives, without close friends, had to a certain extent carved out an individual position for herself. She was apparently spending on herself means that could easily have borne sharing with a partner in life.

Many little scandals had been whispered concerning her, but for lack of proof of any of the rumours, she always remained a mystery.

Some said she was like Balzac’s Feodora, a woman having neither heart nor passions: others imagined she had had some cruel disappointment in life, that had left her desirous of shunning any other liaison for fear of betrayal.

I wanted to know the truth; I used every artifice my mind could devise, but all in vain; I could never come to any satisfactory solution of the mystery.

Feeling piqued at my continued failure, I was going away from the scene, when an old roué standing behind me, said loud enough for me to hear: “Pooh, she’s a tribade, a Lesbian.”

This was like a flash of lightning to me: I immediately thought of a thousand reasons for believing this, there could be no mistake.

A tribade! Ah! this word sounds strangely in ones ears. Then it raises in ones mind I know not what murky images of unheard of sensations, lustful in the extreme. It means voluptuous madness, unbridled vice, a criminal enjoyment that is ever incomplete.

Vainly I strove to thrust these ideas from me; for a time my imagination ran riot. I closed my eyes, only to see the Countess before me, nude, in another woman’s arms, her hair undone and streaming around her panting body, always tormented with half-satisfied desire.

My veins seemed filled with liquid fire, my senses reeled, I fell back half unconscious on a sofa.

As I came to myself, I coolly thought out a plan for taking the Countess unawares: I felt I must do that at all costs.

I made up my mind to watch her that night, to conceal myself somewhere in her bedroom. The glass door of her dressing room faced the bed. I knew that. I realised at once the advantage of that spot; and hiding between dresses hung up, so that I could see unseen, I resolved to patiently await the orgy.

I was scarcely safely hidden there, when I saw the Countess enter her bedroom.

She called her maid, a dark-complexioned young girl with a striking figure, and said: “Julia, I shan’t want you this evening, go to bed… Ah, if you hear any noise in my room, don’t take any notice, I want to be alone.”

These words seemed to promise me something dramatic. I congratulated myself on my boldness in hiding there.

Gradually the guests’ voices from the drawing room faded away: the Countess was alone with one of her friends, Mademoiselle Fanny B… They were soon both together in the bedroom before my eyes.”

Excerpt From: Alfred de Musset. “Gamiani.”


Available in .epub

  1. Gamiani.epub

More Classic Erotica

More about Gamiani

Summary
product image
Author Rating
1star1star1star1star1star
Aggregate Rating
5 based on 3 votes
Brand Name
Classic Erotica
Product Name
Gamiani by Alfred de Musset
Price
USD 4.99
Product Availability
Available in Stock