Page 408 - Christian Maas Full Book
P. 408

The Lost Paradise.







                          Christian Maas came into the world at the end of summer 1951, on September 11th, symbolic

                   date if there ever was one. From his Ligerian* youth, so close to the river dear to Jules Vall?s, the Loire,

                   he will forever keep deep memories, buried in him like enduring inner roots.


                          A happy early childhood, carefree youth spent between his father, loving but so often being taken

                   up by the little business he created; and his mother in charge of the downtown hostel in Andrézieux.

                   The few shots taken of him kept from back then show him smiling and already willing to capture the
                   objective with his glance of an intense blue.



                          He was to experience peaceful years in the shade of the great trees, in his village close to the Loire

                   River’s whims, taking refuge in his world filled with animals born from his imagination, or, already, made
                   by his own hands.



                          For toys were scarce, as it used to be among Protestants. Never mind that, he would become the

                   craftsman of his own games, most often lonely; for being a loved child didn’t make him a pampered one.
                   The main thing was elsewhere; his father seemed to have found happiness with a young wife full of life,
                   who also gratified him by giving birth to a son, allowing him to heal the wounds from conflicting rela-

                   tionships with children born from previous marriages.



                          Besides the times were about joy, weren’t they? The fifties were years of renewal; progress would
                   set men free and consuming would make them happy. Of course, a rumbling was growing in Alge-

                   ria, but it was far away from Andrézieux-Bouthéon and the mood was toward hope and cheerfulness.

                   Laughter was often heard in the Hotel de la Loire, the hostess was gracious and her periwinkle-blue eyes
                   sparkled; she had much to do with her customers, to a point where she sometimes had to leave the little
                   Christian alone for lengthy moments in his bedroom. Therefore, loneliness was to be learned at a very






















 Christian Maas                                                 CATALOGUE RAISONNÉ Vol. II  417



        53-11-133_382-438_P BW.indd   417                                                                                                 10/9/2011   3:22
   403   404   405   406   407   408   409   410   411   412   413