"Il est certain que les femmes sont plus prêtes à la vie que les hommes en ce sens qu'elles sont moins préparées à la mort par la tradition idéologique"

Autograph letter signed and dated by Henri Barbusse addressed to a friend, 23 lines written in blue ink, very probably addressed to his wife Hélyonne Mendès.
Fold marks inherent to being placed in an envelope.
Letter entirely imbued with the admiration that Henri Barbusse professed for his wife Hélyonne Mendès, daughter of writer Catulle Mendès and musician and composer Augusta Holmès: "J'ai lu avec joie ta lettre rayonnante de vie, comme toi... Je t'entends aussi donnant du souffle à l'américaine pacifiste et aux corprs paralys de la Ligue. Mais quel grand effort infatigable il faut pour refouler toujours toutes les espèces de morts." ("I read with joy your letter radiant with life, like you... I also hear you breathing life into the American pacifist and the paralyzed bodies of the League. But what a great untiring effort is needed to always push back all kinds of death.")
His enthusiasm for his wife matches that which he generally has for women: "Pourtant, je crois aux femmes : en principe, elles te ressemblent un peu." ("Yet, I believe in women: in principle, they resemble you a little.")
The 1916 Goncourt Prize winner reveals his program for the coming days: "J'ai bouclé ce matin les épreuves de mon livre de nouvelles. Je vais me remettre au livre sur les Balkans, qu'il me faut unifier avec les morceaux que j'ai et dont j'extrais de temps en temps un article pour l'envoyer de ci, de là." ("I finished the proofs of my book of short stories this morning. I'm going to get back to the book on the Balkans, which I need to unify with the pieces I have and from which I extract an article from time to time to send here and there.") and ends his missive with this cutting remark: "Tu fais bien de ne pas aller à Genève, ville froide à tous les égards." ("You do well not to go to Geneva, a city cold in every respect.")