Chapter 71
and I think that our fifteenth- or early sixteenth-century _vates_ showed his wisdom most in sticking to the strict negative in his exculpatory second line, here italicised.
Now if Alexander the Younger does not absolutely insist that "all they _be_ so," he goes very near to it, excepting only characters of insignificant domesticity. When he does give you an "honnete femme" who is not merely this, such as the Clementine of the _Roman d'une Femme_ or the Marceline of _Diane de Lys_, he gives them some queer touches. His "_shady_ Magdalenes" (with apologies to one of the best of parodies for spoiling its double rhyme) and his even more shady, because more inexcusable, _marquises_; his adorable innocents, who let their innocence vanish "in the heat of the moment" (as the late Mr. Samuel Morley said when he forgot that Mr. Bradlaugh was an atheist), because the husbands pay too much attention to politics; and his affectionate wives, like the Lady in _Therese_,[388] who supply their missing husbands' place just for once, and forget all about it--these _might_ be individually creatures of fact, but as a cla.s.s they _are_ creatures of theory. And theory never made a good novel yet: it is lucky if it has sometimes, but too rarely, failed to make a good into a bad one. But it has been urged--and with some truth as regards at least the later forms of the French novel--that it is almost founded on theory, and certainly Dumas _fils_ can be cited in support--perhaps, indeed, he is the first important and thoroughgoing supporter. And this of itself justifies the place and the kind of treatment allotted to him here, the justification being strengthened by the fact that he, after Beyle, and when Beyle's influence was still little felt, was a leader of a new cla.s.s of novelist, that he is the first novelist definitely of the Second Empire.
FOOTNOTES:
[349] As, for instance, in _A Short History of French Literature_ (Oxford, 7th ed., 1917), pp. 550-552.
[350] At the same time, and admitting (see below) that it is wrong to meet overpraise with overblame, I think that it may be met with silence, for the time at any rate.
[351] I have, for reasons unnecessary to particularise, not observed strict chronological order in noticing his work or that of some others; but a sufficient "control" will, I hope, be supplied by the Appendix of dated books under their authors' names as treated in this volume.
[352] I observe with amus.e.m.e.nt (which may or may not be shared by "the friends of Mr. Peter Magnus") that I have repeated in the case of Dumas _fils_ what I said on Crebillon _fils_. The contrast-parallel is indeed rather striking. Partly it is a case of reversal, for Crebillon _pere_ was a most respectable man, most serious, and an academician; the son, though not personally disreputable, was the very reverse of serious, and academic neither by nature nor by status. In Dumas' case the father was extremely lively, and the Academy shuddered or sneered at him; the son was very serious indeed, and duly academised. Some surprise was, I remember, occasioned at the time by this promotion. There are several explanations of it; mine is Alexander the son's fondness for the correct subjunctive. George Sand, in a note to one of her books (I forget which), rebelliously says that the speaker in the text _ought_ to have said, "aima.s.se," not "aimais," but that he didn't, and she will not make him do it. On the other hand, I find "aima.s.se," "ha.s.se," and "revisse"
in just three lines of _La Dame aux Camelias_. And everybody ought to know the story of the Immortal who, upon finding a man "where nae mon should be," and upon that "mon" showing the baseness derived from Adam by turning on his accomplice and saying, "Quand je vous disais qu'il etait temps que je m'en aille!" neglected _crim. con._ for _crim. gram._ and cried in horror, "Que je m'en all_a.s.se_, Monsieur!" But this preciseness did not extend to the younger Alexander's choice of subjects.
[353]
To whose "music" also our young friends, As they tell us, have "lost the key."
[354] Dumas, like other mid-nineteenth century novelists in France and England both, is perhaps too fond of this complaint. But, after all, it _does_ "stage" more prettily than appendicitis or typhoid.
[355] Nor is this the only place where _Manon_ figures in the work of Alexander the younger. Especially in the early books direct references, more or less obvious, are frequent; and, as will be seen, the inspiration reappears in his best and almost last novel.
[356] It may perhaps seem to some readers that Janin's own novel-work should have been noticed earlier. I had at one time thought of doing this. But his most famous book of the sort, _L'ane Mort et la Femme Guillotinee_, is a foolish _fatrasie_ of extravagant, undigested, unaffecting horrors, from the devouring by dogs of the _live_ donkey, at the beginning, to the "resurrectioning" of the guillotined woman, at the end. Sterne has played tricks with many clumsy imitators, but with none to more destructive effect than in this case. I read it first in the flush of my early enthusiasm for 1830, and was miserably disappointed; I tried to read it again the other day, and
[357]
And, with dim-fretted foreheads all, On corpses _three_ months old at noon she came.
(_The Palace of Art._)
[358] If anybody cannot tolerate the stretching he had better abstain from Alexander the younger's work, for "they all do it" there. The fact may have conciliated some of our own contemners of "good form."
[359] Every one is ent.i.tled to write this word once in his life, I believe; so I have selected my occasion at last. Of course some one may say: "You have admitted that he did not know Marguerite's pact with his father." True; and this might excuse the wrath, but not the way of showing it.
[360] As I write this I remember a comic experience of fifty years ago.
I was trying to find out the ruins of a certain castle in Brittany, and appealed, in my very best bad French, to an old road-mender. He scowled at me, as if it had been in the days of the _Combat des Trente_, and answered, "_Mais c'est de l'Anglais que vous me parlez la!_"
[361] Another trait of his may not displease readers, though it be not strictly relevant. I once, perhaps with some faint mischievous intent, asked him about the competence of Dr. Pusey and of M. Renan in the sacred tongue. "Pusey," he said, "knew pretty well everything about Hebrew that there was to be known in his day." He was not quite so complimentary about Renan; though, as he put his judgment less pointedly, I do not remember the exact words.
[362] With a bow and arrows, remember; not a Browning pistol.
[363] The indebtedness to Michelet is pretty obvious.
[364] It may be well to ill.u.s.trate this, lest it be said that having been more than just to the father (_v. sup._) I am still less than just to the son. Merlin is made to visit Morgane la Fee in the _eleventh_ century. It is quite true that people generally began to hear about Merlin and Morgane at that time. But he had then been for about half a millennium in the sweet prison of the Lady of the Lake--over whom even Morgane had no power. The English child-King, for whom Bedford was regent, is repeatedly called Henry _IV_. There would have been quite other fish for Joan to fry, and other thread for her to retwist, if she had had to do with Henry of Bolingbroke instead of Henry of Windsor.
Tristan's Mauthe Doog--not a bad kind of hound, though--bears the "Celtic" name of Thor. Of course all these things are trifles, but they are annoying and useless. When the father abridged Charles the First's captivity from years to days, he did it for the good of his story. The son had no such justification. He is also very careless about minute joinings of the flats at a most important point of the conclusion (_v.
inf._). Tristan has no sword, begs one of the _bourreau_, and is refused. He goes straight to church, and immediately afterwards we find him sword in hand. Where did he get it? By an unmentioned miracle?
[365] Tristan defeats an effort of Xaintrailles to rescue her, in a way vaguely resembling the defeat, in the greater Alexander's work, of the rescue of King Charles by the Four.
[366] Unluckily, with a young man's misjudgment, Dumas would not let it be the actual end, though that is not a couple of pages off. After the fight Tristan goes out of the tomb to rest himself; and meets the herald Bretagne, whom he had saved from the wolves in the overture. Bretagne tells him what has happened since the Maid's death, including the fate of his half-brother on the father's side, Gilles de Retz, who, like himself, has repented in time to save his soul, if not his life. Having also seen afar off a cavalcade in which are Olivier and Alix, now married and rapturous, Tristan retires into the tomb, which closes over him. His horse "Baal" and his dogs, the "Celtically" (in the latter case we may say _Piratically_) named Thor and Brinda, are petrified round its entrance.
[367] Crusading times, and Jof or Edessa for Rouen and Poitiers as places, might seem preferable. But the fifteenth century did a lot of _diablerie_ in the West.
[368] A curious variant of this fancy of his will be noticed later. What is more curious still need, perhaps, hardly be indicated for any intelligent reader--the "sicklying over" of Paul-de-k.o.c.kery with a "cast of thought"--"pale," or "dry," or up to "Old Brown" in strength and character as it may seem to different people.
[369] As I have received complaints, mild and other, of the frequency of my unexplained allusions, I may here refer explicitly to Mr. Traill's _Recaptured Rhymes_; and if anybody, after looking up the book, is not grateful to me, I am sorry for him. For the commoner practice here I can only plead that I follow the Golden Rule. Nothing pleases _me_ so much as an allusion that I understand--except one that I don't and have to hunt up.
[370] _Rather_ too big a t.i.tle for an adventurer to meddle with, surely?
[371] He has found out a secret about her. When she learns his crimes and his fate, she puts an end to herself in a way which I fear Octave Feuillet borrowed, rather unceremoniously, though he certainly improved it, in _Julia de Trecoeur_ (_v. inf._). I did not read _Trois Hommes Forts_ till many years after I had read and praised Feuillet's work.
Also, is it absolutely blasphemous to suggest that the beginning of the book has a faint likeness to that of _Les Miserables_ much later?
[372] _V. sup._ last chapter, _pa.s.sim_.
[373] One remembers, as so often, Dr. Johnson to Boswell: "This lady of yours, Sir, is very fit for," etc.
[374] This is, I think, the best of his short stories. _Therese_ is rather a sermon on the somewhat unsavoury text of morbid appet.i.te in the other s.e.x, than a real story. The little _Histories Vraies_, which he wrote with a friend for the _Moniteur_ in 1864, are fairly good. For the formally ent.i.tled _Contes et Nouvelles_ and the collection headed by _Ilka_, _v. inf._
[375] He represents himself as suffering forty-eight hours of very easy imprisonment for not mounting guard as a "National," and writing the story to pa.s.s the time.
[376] The author has shown his skill by inducing at least one very old hand to wonder, for a time at least, whether Dr. Servans is a quack, or a lunatic, or Hoffmannishly uncanny, when he is, in fact, something quite different from any of these.
[377] The other, Clementine (who is not very unlike a more modern Claire d'Orbe), being not nearly so "candid" as her comrade Marie, continues honest.
[378] _V. sup._ Vol. I. p. 204.
[379]
[Sidenote: _Revenants. Sophie Printemps._]
Two early and slight books (one of them, perhaps, the "bad" one referred to above) may find place in a note. _Revenants_ is a fantasy, in which the three most famous pairs of lovers of the later eighteenth century, Des Grieux and Manon, Paul and Virginie, Werther and Charlotte, are revived and brought together (_v. sup._ p. 378). This sort of thing, not seldom tried, has very seldom been a success; and _Revenants_ can hardly be said to be one of the lucky exceptions. _Sophie Printemps_ is the history of a good girl, who, out of her goodness, deliberately marries an epileptic. It has little merit, except for a large episode or parenthesis of some forty or fifty pages (nearly a sixth of the book), telling the prowess of a peremptory but agreeable baron, who first foils a dishonest banker, and then defends this very banker against an adventurer more rascally than himself, whom the baron kills in a duel.
This is good enough to deserve extraction from the book, and separate publication as a short story.
[380] It is constantly called (and I fear I have myself sinned in this respect) _L'Affaire Clemenceau_. But this is not the proper t.i.tle, and does not really fit. It is the heading of a client's instruction--a sort of irregular "brief"--to the advocate who (_resp. fin._) is to defend him; and is thus an autobiographic narrative (diversified by a few "put-in" letters) throughout. The t.i.tle is the label of the brief.
[381] This is probably meant as the first "fight" on the shady side of Iza's character; not that, in this instance, she means to insult or hurt, but that the probability of hurting and insulting does not occur to her, or leaves her indifferent.
[382] Second "light," and now not dubious, for it is made a point of later.
[383] It has sometimes amused me to remember that some of the warmest admirers of Dumas _fils_ have been among the most violent decriers of Thackeray--_for_ preaching. I suppose they preferred the Frenchman's texts.
[384] Neither morality, nor friends.h.i.+p, nor anything like sense of "good form" could be likely to hold him back. But he is represented as nothing if not _un homme fort_ in character and temperament, who knows his woman thoroughly, and must perceive that he is letting himself be beaten by her in the very act of possessing her.
[385] Vide _Mr. Mids.h.i.+pman Easy_.
[386] This phrase may require just a word of explanation. I admitted (Vol. I. p. 409) the abnormality in _La Religieuse_ as not disqualifying. But this was not an abnormality of the _individual_.
Iza's is.