The Luncheon PDF by Somerset Maugham

# The Luncheon ## Pre-reading Task 1. Prepare an ideal diet chart for a teenager. Does it match with the actual diet you are taking? 2. What could be the possible consequences of not taking a balanced diet? Discuss with your partner. 3. Work with your partner and prepare a list of the etiquettes a...

# The Luncheon ## Pre-reading Task 1. Prepare an ideal diet chart for a teenager. Does it match with the actual diet you are taking? 2. What could be the possible consequences of not taking a balanced diet? Discuss with your partner. 3. Work with your partner and prepare a list of the etiquettes and table manners one must observe during a formal lunch in the family. ## Now read this interesting story by Somerset Maugham. I caught sight of her at the play and in answer to her beckoning, I went over during the interval and sat down beside her. It was long since I had last seen her and if someone had not mentioned her name, I hardly think I would have recognised her. She addressed me brightly. 'Well, it's many years since we first met. How time does fly! We're none of us getting any younger. Do you remember the first time I saw you? You asked me to luncheon.' Did I remember? It was twenty years ago and I was living in Paris. I had a tiny apartment in the Latin Quarter overlooking a cemetery and I was earning barely enough money to keep body and soul together. She had read a book of mine and had written to me about it. I answered, thanking her, and presently I received from her another letter saying that she was passing through Paris and would like to have a chat with me; but her time was limited and the only free moment she had was on the following Thursday; she was spending the morning at the Luxembourg and would I give her a little luncheon at Foyot's afterwards? Foyot's is a restaurant at which the French senators eat and it was so far beyond my means that I had never even thought of going there. But I was flattered and I was too young to have learned to say no to a woman. I had eighty francs to last me the rest of the month and a modest luncheon should not cost more than fifteen. If I cut out coffee for the next two weeks, I could manage well enough. *beckoning: signalling by a movement of the head or hand* *senators: members of the Senate* I answered that I would meet my friend—by correspondence—at Foyot's on Thursday at half past twelve. She was not so young as I expected and in appearance imposing rather than attractive. She was in fact a woman of forty. She was talkative, but since she seemed inclined to talk about me I was prepared to be an attentive listener. I was startled when the bill of fare was brought, for the prices were a great deal higher than I had anticipated. But she reassured me. 'I never eat anything for luncheon,' she said. 'Oh, don't say that!' I answered generously. 'I never eat more than one thing. I think people eat far too much nowadays. A little fish, perhaps. I wonder if they have any salmon.' Well, it was early in the year for salmon and it was not on the bill of fare, but I asked the waiter if there was any. Yes, a beautiful salmon had just come in, it was the first they had had. I ordered it for my guest. The waiter asked her if she would have something while it was being cooked. 'No,' she answered, 'I never eat more than one thing. Unless you had a little caviare. I never mind caviare.' My heart sank a little. I knew I could not afford caviare, but I could not very well tell her that. I told the waiter by all means to bring caviare. For myself I chose the cheapest dish on the menu and that was a mutton chop. 'I think you're unwise to eat meat, she said. 'I don't know how you can expect to work after eating heavy things like chops. I don't believe in overloading my stomach.' Then came the question of drink. 'I never drink anything for luncheon,' she said. 'Neither do I,' I answered promptly. *Note*: Salmon, caviare and asparagus are very expensive food items that a person of average means cannot even dream of ordering at a costly hotel like the Foyot's. *imposing: impressive* *startled: surprised* *salmon: large fish with pinkish flesh* *caviare: a salty relish made from the eggs of sturgeon or certain other large fish, eaten as an appetiser* I tried with all my might to will him to say no. A happy smile spread over his broad, priest-like face, and he assured me that they had some so large, so splendid, so tender, that it was a marvel. 'I'm not in the least hungry,' my guest sighed, but if you insist I don't mind having some asparagus.' I ordered them. 'Aren't you going to have any?' 'No, I never eat asparagus.' 'I know there are people who don't like them. The fact is, you ruin your palate by all the meat you eat.' We waited for the asparagus to be cooked. Panic seized me. It was not a question now how much money I should have left over for the rest of the month, but whether I had enough to pay the bill. It would be mortifying to find myself ten francs short and be obliged to borrow from my guest. I could not bring myself to do that. I knew exactly how much I had and if the bill came to more, I made up my mind that I would put my hand in my pocket and with a dramatic cry start up and say it had been picked. Of course it would be awkward if she had not money enough either to pay the bill. Then the only thing would be to leave my watch and say I would come back and pay later. The asparagus appeared. They were enormous, succulent and appetising. The smell of the melted butter tickled my nostrils. But all I could do was to watch my guest thrust them down in large mouthfuls. At last she finished. 'Coffee?' I said. 'Yes, just an ice-cream and coffee,' she answered. I was past caring now, so I ordered coffee for myself and an ice-cream and coffee for her. 'You know, there's one thing I thoroughly believe in,' she said, as she ate ice-cream. 'One should always get up from a meal feeling one could eat a little more.' 'Are you still hungry?' I asked faintly. 'Oh, no, I'm not hungry; you see, I don't eat luncheon. I have morning and then dinner, but I never eat more than one th speaking for you.' 'Oh, I see!' *mortifying: humiliating* *succulent: juicy* Then a terrible thing happened. While we were waiting for the coffee, the head waiter came up to us bearing a large basket full of huge peaches. They had the blush of an innocent girl; they had the rich tone of an Italian landscape. But surely peaches were not in season then? Lord knew what they cost. I knew too—a little later, for my guest, going on with her conversation, absentmindedly took one. You see, you've filled your stomach with a lot of meat—my one miserable little chop—'and you can't eat any more. But I've just had a snack and I shall enjoy a peach.' The bill came and when I paid it, I found that I had only enough for a quite inadequate tip. Her eyes rested for an instant on the three francs I left for the waiter and I knew that she thought me mean. But when I walked out of the restaurant, I had the whole month before me and not a penny in my pocket. 'Follow my example,' she said as we shook hands, 'and never eat more than one thing for luncheon.' I'll do better than that, I retorted. 'I'll eat nothing for dinner tonight.' 'Humorist!' she cried gaily, jumping into a cab. 'You're quite a humorist!' But I have had my revenge at last. Today, she weighs twenty-one stone. *stone: a unit of weight (1 stone = app. 6.35 kg)* 'Except white wine,' she proceeded as though I had not spoken. These French white wines are so light. They're wonderful for the digestion.' What would you like?' I asked, hospitable still, but not exactly effusive. She gave me a bright and amicable flash of her white teeth. 'My doctor won't let me drink anything but champagne.' I fancy I turned a trifle pale. I ordered half a bottle. I mentioned casually that my doctor had absolutely forbidden me to drink champagne. 'What are you going to drink, then?' 'Water.' She ate the caviare and she ate the salmon. She talked gaily of art and literature and music. But I wondered what the bill would come to. When my mutton chop arrived she took me quite seriously to task. 'I see that you're in the habit of eating a heavy luncheon. I'm sure it's a mistake. Why don't you follow my example and just eat one thing? I'm sure you'd feel ever so much better for it.' 'I am only going to eat one thing.' I said, as the waiter came again with the bill of fare. She waved him aside with an airy gesture. 'No, no, I never eat anything for luncheon. Just a bite, I never want more than that, and I eat that more as an excuse for conversation than anything else. I couldn't possibly eat anything more—unless they had some of those giant asparagus. I should be sorry to leave Paris without having some of them.' My heart sank. I had seen them in the shops and I knew that they were horribly expensive. My mouth had often watered at the sight of them. 'Madame wants to know if you have any of those giant asparagus,' I asked the waiter. *effusive: unrestrained, enthusiastic* *champagne: an expensive white or pink wine made in the Champagne area of France* *asparagus: a plant whose shoots are used as a vegetable* ## Understanding the Story **A.** Tick (✔) the correct answers from the options given below. 1. ‘Did I remember?’ The narrator means that--- * (i) he did not remember. * (ii) he could not forget. * (iii) he was not sure. 2. The narrator is by profession--- * (i) a writer. * (ii) a musician. * (iii) an artist. 3. He had never been to Foyot’s before because--- * (i) it was meant only for the French senators. * (ii) it was very expensive. * (iii) he had not heard of it. 4. He did not order champagne for himself because--- * (i) he did not like it. * (ii) his doctor had forbidden him to drink it. * (iii) he could not afford it. 5. He did not give an adequate tip to the waiter because--- * (i) he did not believe in giving tips. * (ii) he was miserly. * (iii) he had no more money. **B.** Give two pieces of evidence from the story to justify each of the following statements. 1. The narrator was still a struggling writer. 2. He promptly said ‘yes’ to the woman’s proposal for lunch at the Foyot’s. 3. The woman did not approve of the narrator’s choice of eating meat 4. The narrator planned ways to face a bill beyond his means. 5. The asparagus were tempting and difficult to resist. 6. The narrator was shocked to see the head waiter carry a basket full of peaches. **C.** Answer the following questions in about 30 words each. 1. How did the woman know the narrator? Why did she want to meet him? 2. What impression did the narrator gather of the woman when he met her? 3. Why was the narrator panic-stricken while they were waiting for the asparagus to be cooked? 4. Why did the narrator order coffee for himself also? 5. What is the waiter’s contribution in allowing the woman to have a gorgeous meal? ## HOTS **A**. The narrator’s meeting with the woman begins with his being flattered and hospitable and ends with being mortified and disgusted. Discuss his different states of mind. **B**. The woman calls the narrator 'a humorist'. Who do you think actually contributes to the humour in the story? How? ## Life Skills If you come across such a guest at home, how will you behave? ## Values **A.** Observe the following remarks made by the woman during the luncheon. * ‘I never eat anything for luncheon’. * ‘I never drink anything for luncheon’. * ‘I never eat more than one thing for luncheon’. Discuss these statements in the light of her behaviour during the luncheon. **B.** Was the woman considerate or self-centred? ## Writing Skills Imagine that you are the narrator. * (a) Write a diary entry expressing your plans on how you hope to manage the budget of the entire month. * (b) Write a diary entry expressing your satisfaction on observing the woman put on a lot of weight in the second meeting. ## About the Author W. Somerset Maugham (1874–1965) was an eminent novelist, playwright, short-story writer, travel writer, autobiographer and essayist. He was one of the most popular writers in English in the twentieth century and is noted for his clarity of style and skill in story-telling. His popular short stories include "The Verger", "The Ant and the Grasshopper", "Mr. Know-All" and "The Traitor".