The photo was set up on an easel in front of the church of Saint-Germain-des-Prés in Paris, where her funeral was held on Friday, August 11. In it, Hélène Carrère d'Encausse was standing, tall and elegant, in front of a portrait of Cardinal de Richelieu, founder of the Académie Française in 1634. She was wearing a light-colored, tailored jacket. Her left arm was extended with her hand holding the back of an upholstered chair, as if to consolidate her position, occupying the entire frame. The academician was looking up and smiling in triumph.

Her death, six days earlier, had come as a shock. Despite her age of 94, the Académie's long-lasting secretary had reigned over the French institution for a quarter of a century and had never shown any sign of faltering. On July 6, as she did every Thursday, the historian presided over the commission responsible for updating the dictionary, surrounded by a dozen of her peers, who saw her as she always was: authoritative and energetic, attentive and courteous, with her hair styled impeccably.

That morning, they examined the word "zoo." At the end of the session, Carrère d'Encausse proudly announced that the ninth edition, which was started in 1936 and includes 28,000 more words than the previous one, had finally been completed. "We'll need a final session in the autumn, but it's finally finished," she enthused.

"It was very important for her," said the philosopher Jean-Luc Marion (seat no. 4). "She was determined to finish the job." The academicians then wished each other a happy summer. Carrère d'Encausse had mentioned that she was leaving for the Ile de Ré, as she did every year. "There was no indication of anything," said Frédéric Vitoux (seat no. 15). "If she knew she was ill, she hid it."

Three weeks later, she entered a Parisian palliative care institute, without telling anyone except her children. On July 29, she had also called the former parish priest of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Benoist de Sinety. "Are you sitting down?" she had asked, before telling him that she had arrived the day before "at the Maison Jeanne-Garnier." She asked him to preside over her funeral. She died on August 5, surrounded by her family and friends. "A stoic, Roman-style death," summed up Dominique Fernandez (seat no. 25), now the Académie's oldest member.

Interpret the signs

The indefatigable Russia specialist, who had come to be seen as truly "immortal," as Académie members are known, due to their motto "to immortality," had made no plans for her own succession, unlike her predecessors, the Perpetual Secretaries [as the role of chairperson is known] Maurice Genevoix, Jean Mistler and Maurice Druon, who handed over the reins during their lifetimes. She herself was anointed by Druon in 1999, becoming the first woman to hold the position. There has therefore been no vacancy at the head of the Académie since the war, nor the prospect of an open election; enough to set this Parisian microcosm abuzz.

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