long for a solution to things – a solution, a purpose, a final cause; but the better telescopes become, the more stars appear. You cannot change humanity, you can only know it.
A maxim upon maxims. Truths about writing can be framed before you’ve published a word; truths about life can be framed only when it’s too late to make any difference.
According to
Few of us have the courage to use the mallet and the chisel. Ellen did. I sometimes feel embarrassed by people’s sympathy. ‘It’s worse for her,’ I want to say; but I don’t. And then, after they’ve been kind, and promised me outings as if I were a child, and brusquely tried to make me talk for my own good (why do they think I don’t know where my own good lies?), I am allowed to sit down and dream about her a little. I think of a hailstorm in 1853, of the broken windows, the battered harvests, the wrecked espaliers, the shattered melon cloches. Is there anything stupider than a melon cloche? Applaud the stones that break the glass. People understand a little too quickly the function of the sun. The function of the sun is not to help the cabbages along.
14
It has become clear to the examiners in recent years that candidates are finding it increasingly difficult to distinguish between Art and Life. Everyone claims to understand the difference, but perceptions vary greatly. For some, Life is rich and creamy, made according to an old peasant recipe from nothing but natural products, while Art is a pallid commercial confection, consisting mainly of artificial colourings and flavourings. For others, Art is the truer thing, full, bustling and emotionally satisfying, while Life is worse than the poorest novel: devoid of narrative, peopled by bores and rogues, short on wit, long on unpleasant incidents, and leading to a painfully predictable denouement. Adherents of the latter view tend to cite Logan Pearsall Smith: ‘People say that life is the thing; but I prefer reading.’ Candidates are advised not to use this quotation in their answers.
Consider the relationship between Art and Life suggested by any
a) ‘The day before yesterday, in the woods near Touques, at a charming spot near a spring, I came across some cigar butts and some bits of pate. There’d been a picnic there! I’d described exactly that in
b) In Paris, Flaubert used a closed cab to avoid detection, and presumably seduction, by Louise Colet. In Rouen, Leon uses a closed cab for the seduction of Emma Bovary. In Hamburg, within a year of the publication of
c) (As his sister Caroline lay dying) ‘My own eyes are as dry as marble. It’s strange how sorrows in fiction make me open up and overflow with feeling, whereas real sorrows remain hard and bitter in my heart, turning to crystal as soon as they arise.’
d) ‘You tell me that I seriously loved that woman [Mme Schlesinger]. I didn’t; it isn’t true. Only when I was writing to her, with that capacity I possess for producing feelings within myself by means of the pen, did I take my subject seriously:
e) Giuseppe Marco Fieschi (1790–1836) attained notoriety for his part in a plot on the life of Louis Philippe. He took lodgings in the boulevard du Temple and constructed, with the help of two members of the Societe des Droits de l’Homme, an ‘infernal machine’, consisting of twenty gun-barrels which could be discharged simultaneously. On July 28th, 1835, as Louis Philippe was riding past with his three sons and numerous staff, Fieschi fired his broadside against established society.
Some years later, Flaubert moved into a house built on the same site in the boulevard du Temple.
f) ‘Yes, indeed! The period [of Napoleon III’s reign] will furnish material for some capital books. Perhaps after all, in the universal harmony of things, the
Trace the mellowing of Flaubert’s attitude towards critics and criticism as represented by the following quotations:
a) ‘These are the truly stupid things: 1) literary criticism, whatever it may be, good or bad; 2) the Temperance Society…’
b) ‘There is something so essentially grotesque about gendarmes that I cannot help laughing at them; these upholders of the law always produce the same comic effect on me as do attorneys, magistrates and professors of literature.’