Buch lesen: «Bouvard and Pécuchet, part 2», Seite 8

If there should be somewhere two young men who spend their Sundays reading poetry together, telling each other what they have written and what they would like to write, and, while indifferent to all else, conceal this passion from all eyes – if so, my advice to them is this:

Go side by side, through the woods, reciting poetry; mingle your souls with the sap of the trees and the eternity of God’s creations; abandon yourselves to reverie and the torpors of sublimity! Give up your youth to the Muse; it will replace all other loves. When you have experienced the world’s miseries; when everything, including your own existence, seems to point towards one purpose; when you are ready for any sacrifice, any test, – then, publish your works. After that, no matter what happens, you will look on the wretchedness of your rivals without indignation, and on their success without envy. As the less favoured will be consoled by the other’s success, the one with a stouter heart will encourage the weaker one; each will contribute his particular gift; this mutual help will avert pride and delay declination.

When one of you dies – as we must all die – let the other treasure his memory; let him use it as a bulwark against weakness, or, better, as a private altar where he can open his heart and pour out his grief. Many times, in the stillness of night, will he look vainly for his friend’s shadow, ready to question him: “Am I doing right? What must I do? Answer me!” – and if this memory be a constant reminder of his sorrow, it will at least be a companion in his solitude.

LETTER TO THE
MUNICIPALITY OF ROUEN
ON THE SUBJECT OF A MEMORIAL
TO
LOUIS BOUILHET

Gentlemen: —

BY A majority of two votes – thirteen votes against eleven (including that of the mayor and his six clerks) – you refused the offer I made you to erect free of cost, at any place you might choose in your city, a small fountain ornamented with the bust of Louis Bouilhet.

As I am spokesman for the persons who contributed their money for this purpose, I must protest in their name against this decision – that is, I must reply to the objections uttered in your meeting of the 8th of December last, an account of which appeared in the newspapers of Rouen on the 18th of the same month.

The four principal objections were:

1. – That the subscription committee changed the destination of the monument;

2. – That the municipal budget would be imperilled;

3. – That Bouilhet was not born in Rouen;

4. – That his literary talent is inadequate.

First objection (I use the words as they were printed): “Can the committee modify the intention and substitute a fountain for a tombstone? Will all the subscribers accept the substitution?”

We have modified nothing, gentlemen! the monument (a vague expression, not precisely designating a tombstone) was suggested by M. Ernest Leroy, ex-prefect of the “Seine-Inférieure,” on the day of Bouilhet’s funeral.

I immediately started a subscription, on which figured the names of an imperial highness, George Sand, Alexandre Dumas, the great Russian author Tourgeneff, Harrisse, a New York journalist, etc. Some subscribers from the Comédie Française are: Mmes. Plessy, Favart, Brohan and M. Bressant; from the Opéra, M. Fauré and Mlle. Nilsson; in short, after six months, we had about 14,000 francs at our disposal; besides this, the marble was to be given to us by the Beaux-Arts administration, and the sculptor chosen by us refused to accept any remuneration.

Surely, all those people, known or unknown, did not give their time, talent, or money, for the erection in a cemetery (which very few would ever visit) of so costly a tombstone; one of those grotesque constructions that are adverse to all religious feeling, to all philosophies, whose derisive pride insults eternity!

No, gentlemen, what they desired was something less useful – and more moral: that when passing Bouilhet’s statue each one could say: “There was a man who, in this avaricious century, devoted his whole life to the worship of literature. This mark of respect is but justice to him, and I have contributed my share to this reparation.” This was their idea; nothing else. Besides, how do you know? Who asked you to defend them?

The municipal council say: “As we understand it to be a tombstone, we will give ten metres of ground and subscribe 500 francs.” As this decision implies a recrimination, let them keep their 500 francs! As to the ground, we are willing to buy it. What is your price? But enough on your first objection.

The second is dictated by excessive caution: “If the subscription committee have made a mistake in their estimate, the city could not leave it (the monument) unfinished; and we must even now foresee that, if need be, we should have to make up the deficit.”

Our estimate was submitted to your architect; as to our funds, if they had been insufficient, rest assured the committee would have made an appeal to the subscribers, or rather, would have supplied them out of their own pockets. Thank heaven! we are rich enough to keep our word! Your excessive anxiety seems somewhat rude.

Third objection: “Bouilhet was not born in Rouen!” Yet, M. Decorde says in his report: “He is one of us”; and after the first performance of La Conjuration d’Ambroise, M. Verdrel, ex-Mayor of Rouen, at a banquet given in honor of Bouilhet, complimented him in the most flattering terms; calling him “one of the geniuses of Rouen.” For some years, it was quite a fad of the smaller Parisian publications to ridicule the enthusiasm of the people of Rouen for Bouilhet. In the Charivari, a caricature represented the people of Rouen offering their respects to Hélène Peyron in the shape of bonbons and cakes; in another, I was represented dragging the “Rouenese float.”

But no matter. According to you, gentlemen, if an illustrious man is born in a village consisting of thirty shanties, the monument must be erected in that village, and not in the county seat? Then why not erect it in the street, house, or even room where he was born? Suppose his birthplace were unknown (history is not always decisive on this point), – what would you do? Nothing. Am I right?

Fourth objection: – “His literary merit!”

I find in the report many big words on this subject: “Propriety”; “principles.” “It must be risky.” “It would be a great distinction; an extreme honour; a supreme homage; which must be granted only with extreme caution”; lastly, “Rouen is too large a pedestal for his genius!” Really, such praise was not bestowed even upon the excellent M. Pottier, “whose services to the city library were more conspicuous” (no doubt, because it was your library). Nor, secondly, on Hyacinthe Langlois! I knew him, gentlemen, better than all of you. Do not revive this painful recollection! Never speak of this noble man! His life was a disgrace to his countrymen! You call him “a great Norman celebrity,” and, dispensing fame in fantastic manner, you quote among the celebrities of which our city can boast (you can, but do not always) Pierre Corneille! Corneille a celebrity? Really, you are severe! Then, in the same breath, you mention Boieldieu, Lemonnier, Fontenelle, and, gentlemen, you forget Gericault, the dean of modern painting; Saint-Amant, the great poet; Boisgilbert, the first economist of France; De La Salle, who discovered the mouth of the Mississippi; Louis Poterat, inventor of porcelain in Europe, – and others!

That your predecessors should have forgotten to pay high, immoderate, sufficient tribute, or even no tribute at all, to these “celebrities” (Samuel Bochart, for instance, whose name adorns one of the streets of Caen) is an indisputable fact! But does a previous injustice authorise subsequent wrongs?

It is true, nothing has been erected to the memory of Rabelais, Montaigne, Ronsard, Pascal, La Bruyère, Le Sage, Diderot, Vauvenargues, Lamennais, Alexandre Dumas, and Balzac, in their native cities. On the other hand, there is a statue of General de Saint-Pol at Nogent-le-Rotrou; one of General Blanmont at Gisors; one of General Leclerc at Pontoise; one of General Valhubert at Avranches; one of M. Vaisse at Lyons; one of M. Billault at Nantes; one of M. de Morny at Deauville; one of Ancelot at Havre; one of Ponsard at Valence; in a public park at Vire, an enormous bust of Chênedollé; at Séez, in front of the cathedral, a magnificent statue of Conté, etc.

This is all well enough, if the public purse has not suffered. Let those who desire fame pay for it; let those who wish to pay tributes to others, do so at their own cost. This is exactly what we wished to do.

So long as you were subject to no financial risks, your duty was to demand of us a guaranty of execution. Besides the right to choose the spot for our fountain, you had that of rejecting our sculptor and choosing one yourselves. But you are too engrossed in the hypothetical success of Mademoiselle Aïssé! “If this drama is not a success, might not the erection of a public monument to his literary talent [Bouilhet’s] be looked upon with disfavour?”

M. Nion (who has special charge of the fine arts) thinks that if by chance this drama should be a failure, the adoption of the proposed plan would be “rashness” on the part of the municipal council. So, it would seem that the bone of contention is the financial success of the piece! If it is a success, Bouilhet is a great man; if a failure, he is not! What a noble theory! The immediate success of a drama has nothing to do with its literary value. There are numerous examples: Molière’s L’Avare ran four nights; Racine’s Athalie and Rossini’s Barbier de Seville were hooted. But rest easy, Mademoiselle Aïssé was a great success. It does not seem to matter to M. Decorde, your reporter, who says: ‘Bouilhet’s talent is not proof against criticism’; and: ‘His reputation is not sufficiently established.’ M. Nion says: ‘His method is more remarkable than his scenic conceptions! He is not original, not a first-class author!’ M. Decorde calls him ‘an imitator of Alfred de Musset, who was sometimes successful’! Really, my dear sir, you are not as indulgent as you should be towards a contemporary, – you who, artfully scoffing at this very city of Rouen, whose literary morals you defend so well, have stigmatized Saint-Tard as ‘a progressive borough.’³ A nice little place, where, “Despite the city toll, against which they grumble, liquor-shops and cafés flourish.”

If you had been asked for money, I should have understood your reluctance.

“Here is another thing; we are continually taxed for the least reason.” ’Tis true the bourgeois of Saint-Tard are not much given to generosity!

We expected better of you after your treatment of modern slang in your epistle Des importations Anglaises⁴ in which are these lines: “I read in a paper that at Boulogne-sur-Mer a fashionable cricket-club had arranged a match. And having so poorly aped fashion, can lay claim to admiration.” Attractive lines, but these are better: “I have read somewhere that a miser of Rennes, knowing no better way to avoid giving presents, had died on the New Year.”

You are really versatile – whether you praise photograph collections: “It is a pleasant pastime, and everyone has a large collection,” or Saint-Ouen Park: “Your fate is that of the great stream once so sought after, and you in your turn are deserted.”⁵ Or dancing: “As everything must follow the fashion, Terpsichore has submitted to the law of exchange. Ignoring prohibition, the Lancers have already reached us from Albion.”⁶ Or dinners in town: “You must not expect me to divulge what the menu consists of; but from the beginning the dessert adorns the table. Alas! those pleasures are not had for nothing; a winter in the city is more costly than one thinks!”⁷ Or the marvels of modern industry: “And now, thanks to special trains, we can visit Belgium or Switzerland in eight days, and at much less cost. And when De Lesseps has at last made a passage through the Suez Canal, the tourist can take a pleasure trip to India or the extreme Orient as easily as travelling through France.”⁸

Do not stop, by any means! Write dramas even, you who have such a keen conception of dramatic form! And rest assured, honourable sir, that if your “reputation were sufficiently established,” and although like Louis Bouilhet’s, your “talent” is not “proof against criticism,” you are not “original” not “a first-class author,” you will never be called “an imitator,” even “sometimes successful,” of Alfred de Musset!

Besides, your memory is at fault on this point. Did not one of your colleagues of the Academy of Rouen, at the meeting of Aug. 7th, 1862, praise Louis Bouilhet in flattering terms? He praised him so highly as a dramatic author, and denied so energetically that he was an imitator of Alfred de Musset, that when I wrote the preface to Dernières Chansons, I simply copied the words of my old friend, Alfred Nion, brother of M. Emile Nion, the gentleman that lacked boldness!

What was the gentleman “who has special charge of the fine arts” afraid of? Of obstructing your public by-ways? Poets like this one (begging your pardon) are not precisely innumerable. Since you have refused to accept his statue, notwithstanding our gift of a fountain, you have lost one of your colleagues, M. Thubeuf. I do not wish to speak unbecomingly, or to insult a sorrowful family I have not the honour of knowing, but it seems to me that Nicholas-Louis-Juste Thubeuf is at the present moment as forgotten as if he never had existed, while Bouilhet’s name is known over all Europe. Aïssé is being played in St. Petersburg and London. His plays and verses will be printed in six, twenty, even a hundred years hence, and perhaps beyond that. A man is seldom remembered unless he has been amusing or serviceable. You are not able to be the former; grant us the latter. Instead of devoting your time to literary criticism, a pastime that is beyond your powers, attend to more serious things such as: the construction of a bridge; the construction of a bonded-warehouse; the widening of the Rue du Grand-Pont; the opening of a street, running from the Court-House to the docks; the much delayed completion of the spire of the cathedral, etc. Queer collection, indeed! It might be called “Museum of deferred projects.”

You are so afraid of compromising yourselves, so afraid to act, that each outgoing administration hands its caution down to its successor. You think caution such a virtue that it would be a crime for you to act. Mediocrity is not detrimental, you think, but one must avoid being enterprising. When the public clamours, a committee is at once appointed; and from that time nothing is done. “We can do absolutely nothing; we await the committee’s decision.” Invincible argument to soothe public impatience!

Sometimes, however, you are bold enough to act; but it almost creates a scandal: as when the ex-Rue de l’Impératrice, now the Rue Jeanne-Darc, and the Square Solferino were opened in Rouen. Still: “Public parks are the style now, and Rouen must have one!”⁹

But the most important, though the most neglected, of all your projects is the distribution of water throughout the city. Take Saint-Sever, for example, where there is great need of it. What we proposed was, to erect, at any street corner, a small fountain adorned with a statue. Several of you had formally promised that our fountain should be erected; we were therefore greatly surprised at your decision, inasmuch as you are sometimes generous in these matters. The statue to Napoleon I. on the Place Saint-Ouen is an instance. You gave, for the erection of this masterpiece, which had cost 160,000 francs or thereabouts, the small sum of 30,000 francs! The council had appropriated the first time 10,000 francs; the second time, 8,000; and the third time, 5,000, as indemnity to the sculptor, because his maquette had casually been overthrown by the committee – always the committee! What aptitude for art! For the statue of Pierre Corneille, proposed in 1805 and erected twenty-nine years later, 1834, you spent 7,037.38 francs – not a cent more. True, he was a great poet, and you are so considerate that you prefer to deprive yourselves of a necessity, rather than honour a second-rate poet!

Permit me to ask two questions: If this fountain, this useful public monument which we offered, had represented anything but Louis Bouilhet’s bust, would you have refused it? If it had been intended for one of the capitalists of our district, whose fortune runs into the millions, would you have refused it? I doubt it.

Be careful, or you will be accused of despising those who cannot boast of a fortune! For such cautious men, who consider success the main object, you have sadly erred, gentlemen! The Moniteur Universel, l’Ordre, the Paris-Journal, the Bien Public, the XIXème Siècle, l’Opinion Nationale, the Constitutionnel, the Gaulois, the Figaro, in fact, nearly all the papers, were against you. To convince you, we will simply quote a few lines from the dean of modern critics, Jules Janin:

“When the time came for definitive compensation, the last hope of Louis Bouilhet’s friends was dashed to the ground; they encountered all sorts of obstacles. His statue was refused a place in a city that his fame had made illustrious! His friends proposed in vain to erect a much needed fountain, so that the statue ornamenting it might not be thought the main object of this good deed. But how can unjust men understand the cruelty of such a refusal? They might erect a statue to war, but to a poet, never!”

Of the twenty-four composing the committee, eleven sided with us; and Messrs. Vaucquier du Traversin, F. Deschamps and Raoul Duval spoke eloquently in our favour. This affair is trifling in itself, but it may be noted as a characteristic feature of the century – of your class.

“I address myself to you no longer, gentlemen, but to all the bourgeoisie. Therefore I say: Conservators who conserve nothing, it is time to follow a different path. You speak of decentralizing, regenerating, – if so, rouse yourselves. Be active! Originate! French nobles lost their prestige for having had, during two centuries, the feelings of menials. The end of the bourgeois is at hand, because their feelings are those of the rabble. I do not see that they read different papers, or hear different music, or that their pleasures are more refined. In one as in the other, it is the same love of money; the same wish to destroy idols; the same hatred of superior minds; the same meanness; the same crass ignorance.”

Of the seven hundred members of l’Assemblée Nationale, how many are there who could name six kings of France, who know the first rudiments of political economy, who have even read Bastiat? The whole municipality of Rouen, who disowned a poet’s talent, no doubt are ignorant of the rules of versification. They do not need to know them, so long as they do not meddle with poetry.

To be respected by those beneath us, we must respect those above us! Before educating the rabble, educate yourselves! Enlightened people, enlighten yourselves! Because of your disdain for superiority, you think you have abundant good sense, you are positive, you are practical. One is never really practical unless he carries it a little farther… You would not enjoy the benefits of industry if your ancestors of the eighteenth century had had other ideals than common usefulness. How we scoffed at Germany – at her dreamers, her ideologists, her ethereal poets! Our milliards compensated her for the time well employed in perfecting plans. It seems to me, it was the dreamer Fichte who reorganized the Prussian army after Jena; and that the poet Koërner sent a few Uhlans against us about 1813!

You practical? Come! You cannot even hold a pen or a gun! You let convicts rob, imprison, and slaughter you! You have lost even the brute’s instinct of defence; and when not only your life, but your purse (which ought to be dearer to you), is in danger, you lack the energy to drop a ballot into a box! With all your capital, all your wisdom, you never can form an association equal to l’Internationale! All your intellectual efforts consist of trembling for the future. Think! Hasten! or France, between a hideous demagogy and a stupid bourgeoisie, will sink lower and lower!

Gustave Flaubert.