Marie Delcourt

The first female lecturer at the University of Liège, she was a classical philologist, historian of ancient Greek religion and specialist in humanism.

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t's not uncommon for students to give their teachers nicknames of varying degrees of irreverence. But not Marie Delcourt: "(they) invented for her, without having to look far for it, the most familiar, respectful and tender nickname. From the start, they simply called her Marie The anecdote recounted by writer Alexis Curvers (1), her husband, clearly illustrates the attachment her pupils and disciples felt for her, as well as the simplicity and accessibility of her character.

Marie Delcourt was born in Ixelles in 1891. Her Brussels origins were purely due to the random postings of her father, a career soldier. But her mother came from Arlon, and that's where she spent her childhood: Luxembourg was her home. In those days, secondary education wasn't for girls; nor was anything easy for them, especially when, like Marie Delcourt, they were still suffering from the after-effects of polio contracted at the age of 3: they had to redouble their efforts. Marie passed her diploma in Greco-Latin humanities before the central jury; in 1911, she was finally able to begin her studies in classical philology at the University of Liège. The war, of course, interrupted her studies, especially as her father was killed at the head of his regiment in October 1914. if she worked so hard all her life, as a teacher, researcher, columnist and writer, it was because she knew that, as a disabled woman, she would have to rely solely on herself to support herself," explains Vinciane Pirenne. That was the price of her autonomy . After her father's death, Marie Delcourt also became involved: she was a member of the "La Dame Blanche" intelligence network, which collected information on troop movements for the British War Office. Her work earned her an Officer's Cross of the British Empire. Despite her disability, she drew on this commitment to give lectures on Sunday tours, and above all to write Nos grands cœurs (2), a book extolling the courage of the "passeurs d'hommes", the "fearless people", as she called them, who took young men across the Belgian-Dutch border to join the Yser front. Commitment, willpower, hard work, self-sacrifice. Already, still and always.

She graduated from university in 1919 and spent two years studying in Paris. On her return to Liège, she became a teacher at the "Institut supérieur des demoiselles", now the Lycée Léonie de Waha, a post she held until the war, working tirelessly to promote young girls' access to knowledge.
It has to be said that, appointed in 1929 as the first female lecturer at the University, she burst into a highly masculine, not to say misogynistic, and very conservative environment. It's hardly surprising, then, that at the outset, she was not paid for the free course she taught in the history of humanism. Nor that, by way of an office, she was "offered" a cubbyhole in the university entrance hall! As Jean Hoyoux, one of her disciples, pointed out, Marie Delcourt never had her own office at the university (she even shared her cubicle), nor an assistant! (3)
Adored by her students and close collaborators, Marie Delcourt has always kept her distance from the academic milieu of Liège, which she considers bourgeois and conservative. if I'm appointed to the university (that "moron")," she wrote to her future husband, "I won't have to work so hard to earn a living. But university means Liège in perpetuity, and in the face of that, my heart fails me." (4) Female, disabled, free-spirited and promiscuous (Alexis, her future husband, is 15 years her junior), she knows she can only play a marginal role in the institution. She set out on her own, with the help of her will and her knowledge.

In 1930, she published a Life of Euripides, the poet and playwright to whom she remained faithful for the rest of her life. No doubt because she shared his lucid view of society and, as Roland Crahay, one of her first collaborators, points out, because Euripides denounced the fate of those left behind in Greek society: women, slaves, foreigners (5). This is undoubtedly one of the mainsprings of Marie Delcourt's life: her concern for the most underprivileged, the downtrodden, her never-failing generosity. This concern for others is first and foremost shown towards her husband, Alexis Curvers, who often goes through periods of depression, and whom she supports again and again, even when he is experiencing impossible homosexual passions. And also when he set out to publish a poetic art magazine, La flûte enchantée, of which only 10 issues were ever published. It was a risky venture that ended in a falling-out with Marguerite Yourcenar, a close friend of the couple since the publication of Mémoires d'Hadrien and a regular visitor to the Curvers' home: "Gallimard and Yourcenar rhyme pleasantly and both with nightmare", she wrote to the Liège writer Paul Dresse (6). She also gave of herself to find work for a young outsider, or to adopt a young Basque refugee who had fallen victim to the Spanish Civil War. Or recommending a promising young writer to a publisher.

While Marie Delcourt does not seek academic honors, she does not shy away from Belgian or international intellectual life. On the contrary, she is a woman of networks. She corresponded with all those who formed the core of Belgian letters between the wars and in the immediate post-war period: Thiry, Vivier, Le Dantec, Norge, Dresse, and many others. She encourages them, gives her opinion. She was also the soul of the group of intellectuals who met at the Château de Colpach in the Grand Duchy. This place, where she liked to go to recharge her batteries and work in peace and quiet, was owned by her friend Aline Mayrisch. From the 1920s onwards, it became a meeting place for the French and Germans, where the greatest intellectuals from both countries met: Paul Claudel, André Gide, Jean Paulhan, Jean Schlumberger and Henri Michaux exchanged ideas with Karl Jaspers, Walther Rathenau and Bernard Groethuysen. So much so that it was referred to as the "nucleus of future Europe".

Gifted with an extraordinary capacity for work, according to those who knew her, Marie Delcourt was a multi-tasker. She worked every day, every evening, with, as she said herself, just a pen and a piece of scrap paper. marie Delcourt couldn't imagine life without working, without writing," confirms Franz Bierlaire. She spent all her time writing. She'd collect all the papers and send you letters or notes on the back of an envelope or advertisement. She devoted an enormous budget to her correspondence ". Writing was her way of working. Her disability restricted her movements. Those with whom she worked, such as Aloïs Gerlo for the edition and translation of Erasmus's correspondence (7), sent her their doubts and remarks, and received Marie Delcourt's comments by return mail. a gentle, accessible woman, she nonetheless had strong opinions," recalls Franz Bierlaire, " very dry, very categorical. But she was always motivated.

This thirst for writing led her to indulge in all genres. In her husband's magazine, for example, she tried her hand at poetry; in Nos grands cœurs - as we have seen - she scripted acts of resistance. And she can't resist writing down her cooking recipes (8)... all the while pointing out that they are "for the use of intelligent people"! It's clear from the book's preface that intelligent people are women who have more important things to do than spend their time in the kitchen satisfying their husbands. The recipe for pig's trotters à la Sainte-Menehould requires 24 hours of uninterrupted work? "Well, husbands who can't do without pig's trotters à la Sainte-Menehould should go and eat them in a restaurant (...) and thank God they married a sensible woman, who knows how to refuse mind-numbing slavery and thus retain some leisure." (9) Even in the kitchen, she campaigns for women's rights.
Writing again, this time short stories (10), which she contributes to the magazine Audace, and in which we find one of the hallmarks of Marie Delcourt's style, her extreme conciseness. Still writing, like these columns for the newspaper Le Soir (11), which published them on the front page, and many of which remain surprisingly topical. Education, in particular, features prominently. She worries about it, criticizes the economies of politicians in this field, and worries about its future. But these chronicles are also an opportunity for her to build bridges between eras: she moves with unfailing erudition from Antiquity to the Renaissance or contemporary society, excelling at highlighting what unites human beings across the ages. Scattered? Certainly not: "Marie Delcourt liked to play hooky", as Franz Bierlaire so eloquently put it. A school where there's a lot to learn and a lot to teach.

To bring to light, to illuminate, through her work, through her life: this is undoubtedly what best characterizes Marie Delcourt. When Alexis Curvers was thinking of composing his wife's tomb , in the tradition of the poets of yesteryear, he came up with the epitaph (12), an anagram of Marie Delcourt's name: Çà dort lumière(Hic dormit lux)

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