But Maupassant affected7 Tolstoy as he had affected Turgenieff. Guy has told us of his first [Pg 289] meeting with the latter, an artist superior to Tolstoy. "The first time I saw Turgenieff was at Gustave Flaubert's—a door opened; a giant came in, a giant with a silver head, as they would say in a fairy tale." This must have been in 1876, for in a letter dated January 24, 1877, Turgenieff writes: "Poor Maupassant is losing all his hair. He came to see me. He is as nice as ever, but very ugly just at present." In 1880 the young man published a volume of poetry, Des Vers. He was thirty years old (born August 5, 1850).
The literary apprenticeship8 of Guy to Gustave Flaubert is a thrice-told tale, and signifies only this: If the pupil had not been richly endowed all the lessons of Flaubert would have availed him little. Perhaps the anecdote9 has been overdone10; Maupassant has related it in the preface to Pierre et Jean, and in the introduction to the George Sand-Flaubert correspondence—now at the head of the edition of Bouvard et Pécuchet. There are letters of Flaubert to his disciple11 full of his explosive good nature, big heart, irascibility and generous outpouring on the subject of his art. The thing that surprises a close student of this episode and its outcome is that Maupassant was in reality so unlike his master. And when I further insist that the younger man appropriated whole scenes from Flaubert for his longer stories, especially from L'Education Sentimentale, I feel that I am uttering a paradox13.
[Pg 290] What I mean is this: Maupassant's temperament14 was utterly15 different from Flaubert's. They were both prosecuted16 for certain things they wrote, Guy for a poem in 1880, at Estampes; there had been a détraqué nervous system in both cases. Yet, similar in ideals and physical peculiarities17 as were these two men, there was a profound psychical18 gulf19 between their temperaments20. Flaubert was a great genius, a path breaker, a philosophic21 poet, and the author of La Tentation de St. Antoine, the nearest approach that France can show to a prose epic, and a book of beauty and originality22. Maupassant was a great talent, and a growing one when disease cut him down. He imitated the externals of Flaubert, his irony23, his vivid power of picture-making; even his pessimism24 he developed—though that was personal, as we shall soon see. And yet his work is utterly unlike Flaubert, probably unlike what Flaubert had hoped for—the old man died in 1881 and therefore did not live to enjoy Maupassant in full bloom. If it did not sound quite heretical I should be tempted25 to assert that the writer Maupassant most patterned after, was Prosper26 Mérimée, an artist detested27 by Flaubert because of his hard style. It is this precise style that Maupassant exhibits but coupled with a clarity, an ease, and a grace that Mérimée could not boast. Of Flaubert's harmonious28 and imaginatively coloured manner, Maupassant shows no trace in his six novels and his two hundred and odd tales.
[Pg 291] Maupassant was not altogether faithful to Flaubert's injunctions regarding the publication of his early attempts. He made many secret flights under different pen-names, though Boule de Suif was the first prose signed by him. It appeared in Les Soirées de Medan, and its originality quite outshone the more solid qualities of Zola's L'Attaque au Moulin, and a realistic tale of Huysmans's, Sac au dos. It was this knapsack of story, nevertheless, that opened the eyes of both Zola and Goncourt to the genuine realism of Huysmans as opposed to the more human but also more sentimental12 surface realism of Maupassant. Huysmans proved himself devoid29 of the story-telling gift, of dramatic power; yet he has, if compared to Maupassant, without an iota30 of doubt, the more vivid vision of the two; "the intensest vision of the modern world," says Havelock Ellis. Pictorial31, not imaginative vision, be it understood. In his mystic latter-day rhapsodies it is the realist who sees, the realist who makes those poignant32, image-breeding phrases. Take up Maupassant and in his best tales and novels, such as La Maison Tellier, Boule de Suif, Une Vie, Fort Comme la Mort, to mention a few, you will be surprised at the fluidity, the artful devices to elude33 the harshness of reality, the pessimistic poetry that suffuses34 his pages after reading Huysmans's immitigable exposition of the ugly and his unflinching attitude before the unpleasant. And Huysmans's point of departure is seldom from an idea; facts furnish him with an adequate spring-board. Maupassant is more [Pg 292] lyric35 in tone and texture36. Edmond de Goncourt, jealous of the success of the newcomer, wrote in his diary that Maupassant was an admirable conteur, but a great writer, never. Zola admitted to a few intimates that Guy was not the realist that Huysmans was. All of which is interesting, but proves nothing except that Maupassant wrote a marvellous collection of short stories, real, hyphenated short-stories, as Mr. Brander Matthews makes the delicate distinction, while Huysmans did not.
Edouard Maynial's La Vie et l'?uvre de Guy de Maupassant is the most recent of the biographical studies devoted37 to our subject, though Baron38 Albert Lumbroso, who escapes by a single letter from being confounded with the theory-ridden Turin psychiatrist39, has given us, with the approval of Guy's mother, the definitive40 study of Maupassant's malady41 and death. It is frequently quoted by Maynial; there is a careful study of it which appeared in Mercure de France, June, 1905, by Louis Thomas. And there is that charming volume, Amitié amoureuse, in which Guy is said to figure as the Philippe, by Henri Amic and Madame Lecomte du Nouy. Here we get another Maupassant, not the taureau triste of Taine, but a delightful42, sweet-tempered, unselfish, and altogether lovable fellow. What was the cause of his downfall? Dissipation? Mental overwork—which is the same thing? Disease? Maynial, Lumbroso, and Thomas offer us such a variety of documents [Pg 293] that there can be no doubt as to the determining element. From 1880 to his death in 1893 Guy de Maupassant was "a candidate for general paralysis43." These are the words of his doctor, later approved by Doctor Blanche, to whose sanitarium in Paris he was taken, January 7, 1893.
The father of Guy was Gustave de Maupassant, of an ancient Lorraine family. This family was noble. His mother was of Norman extraction, Laure de Poittevin, the sister of Alfred de Poittevin, Flaubert's dearest friend, a poet who died young. There is no truth in the gossip that Guy was the son of Flaubert. Flaubert loved both the Poittevins; hence his lively interest in Guy. There was a younger brother, Hervé de Maupassant, who died of a mental disorder44. His daughter, Simone, is the legatee of her uncle. The marriage of the elder Maupassants proved a failure. They are both dead now, and the subject may be discussed to the point of admitting that the father was not a domestic man; Guy inherited his taste for Bohemian life, and Madame Laure de Maupassant, after separating from her husband, was subject to nervous crises in which she attempted her life by swallowing laudanum and by strangling herself with her own hair. She was rescued both times, but she was an invalid45 to the last. A loving mother, she overlooked the education of Guy, and let it be said that no happier child ever lived. His early [Pg 294] days were passed at Etretat, at the Villa46 Verguies, and generally in the open air.
The future writer adored the sea; he has written many tales of the water, of yachts and river sports. He went to the seminary at Yvetot and the lyceum of Rouen, but his education was desultory47, his reading principally of his own selection—like most men of individual character. He was a farceur, fond of mystifications, of rough practical jokes, of horseplay. His physique was more Flemish than French—a deep chest, broad shoulders, heavy muscular arms and legs, a small head, a bull-neck. He looked like the mate of a deep-sea ship rather than a literary man. Add to this a craze for rowing, canoeing, swimming, boxing, fencing, and running. An all-round athlete, as the phrase goes, Guy, it is related, once paid a hulking chap to let himself be kicked. So hard was Guy's kick, done in an experimental humour, that the victim became enraged48 and knocked the kicker off his pins. Flaubert, the apostle of the immobile, objected. Too many flirtations, too much exercise! he admonishingly cried. A writer must cultivate repose49.
In sooth Maupassant went a terrific pace. He abused his constitution from the beginning, seemingly tormented50 by seven restless devils. He spent five hours a day at his office in the Ministry51, in the afternoon he rowed on the Seine, in the evening he wrote. After he had resigned as a bureaucrat52 he worked from seven until [Pg 295] twelve every morning, no matter the excesses of the previous night; the afternoon he spent on the river, retiring very late. "Toujours les femmes, petit cochon," wrote Flaubert in 1876, "il faut travailler." But it was precisely54 work that helped to kill the man. Those six pages a day, while they seldom showed erasures, were carefully written, and not until after much thought. Guy was the type of the apparently55 spontaneous writers. His manuscripts are free from the interlineations of Flaubert. He wrote at one jet; but there was elaborate mental preparation. Toward the last began the ether inhalations, the chloroform, hasheesh, the absinthe, cocaine56, and the "odour symphonies"—Huysmans's des Esseintes, and his symphonic perfume sprays were not altogether the result of invention. On his yacht Bel Ami Guy never ceased his daily travail53. It was Taine who called him un taureau triste. Paul Bourget relates that when he told Maupassant of this epigram, he calmly replied: "Better a bull than an ox."
His output—as they say in publishing circles—was breath-catching. It is whispered that he worked all the better after a "hard night." Now there can be but one end to such an expenditure57 of nervous energy, and that end came, not suddenly, but with the treacherous58, creeping approach of paralysis. "Literary" criticism of the Nordau type is usually a foolish thing; yet in Maupassant's case one does not need to be [Pg 296] a skilled psychiatrist to follow and note the gradual palsy of the writer's higher centres. Such stories as Qui Sait? Lui, Le Horla—a terrifying conception that beats Poe on his own chosen field—Fou, Un Fou, and several others show the nature of his malady. Guy de Maupassant came fairly by his cracked nervous constitution, and instead of dissipation, mental and physical, being the determining causes of his shattered health, they were really the outcome of an inherited predisposition to all that is self-destructive. The French alienists called it une hérédité chargée. (No doubt the dread59 Spiroch?ta pallida.)
He never relaxed his diligence, even writing criticism. He saluted60 the literary debuts61 of Paul Hervieu and Edouard Rod in an article which appeared in Gil Blas. At the time of his death he was contemplating62 an extensive study of Turgenieff. Edmond de Goncourt did not like him, suspecting him of irreverence63 because of some words Guy had written in the preface to Pierre et Jean about complicated exotic vocabularies; meaning the Goncourts, of course. It is to be believed that Flaubert also had some quiet fun with the brothers and with Zola regarding their mania64 for note taking; read Bouvard et Pécuchet for confirmation65 of this idea of mine.
Maupassant was paid one franc a line for his novels in the periodicals, and 500 francs for the newspaper rights of publication only; good prices twenty-five years ago in Paris.
[Pg 297] His annual income was about 28,000 to 35,000 francs, and it kept up for at least ten years. A table shows us that to December, 1891, the sale of his books was as follows: short stories, 169,000; novels, 180,000; travel, 24,000; in all 373,000 volumes. Maupassant was even for these days of swollen66 figures a big "seller." His mother had an income of 5,000 francs, but she far excelled the amount in her living expenses. Guy was an admirable son—tender, thoughtful, and generous. He made her an allowance, and at his death left her in comfort, if not actually wealthy. She died at Nice, December 8, 1904, his father surviving him until 1899.
And that death was achieved by the most hideous67 route—insanity. Restless, travelling incessantly68, fearful of darkness, of his own shadow, he was like an Oriental magician who had summoned malignant69 spirits from outer space only to be destroyed by them. Not in Corsica or Sicily, in Africa nor the south of France, did Guy fight off his rapidly growing disease. He worked hard, he drank hard, but to no avail; the blackness of his brain increased. Melancholia and irritability70 supervened; he spelled words wrong, he quarrelled with his friends, he instituted a lawsuit71 against a New York newspaper, The Star; then the persecution72 craze, folie des grandeurs, frenzy73. The case was "classic" from the beginning, even to the dilated74 pupils of his eyes, as far back as [Pg 298] 1880. The 1st of January, 1892, he had promised to spend with his mother at Villa de Ravenelles, at Nice. But he went, instead, against his mother's wishes, to Ste.-Marguerite in company with two sisters, society women, one of them said to have been the heroine of Notre C?ur.
The next day he arrived, his features discomposed, and in a state of great mental excitement. He was tearful and soon left for Cannes with his valet, Fran?ois. What passed during the night was never exactly known, except that Guy attempted suicide by shooting, and with a paper-knife. The knife inflicted75 a slight wound; the pistol contained blank cartridges—Fran?ois had suspected his master's mood, and told the world later of it in his simple loving memoirs—and his forehead was slightly burned. Some months previous he had told Doctor Frémy that between madness and death he would not hesitate; a lucid76 moment had shown him his fate, and he sought death. After a week, during which two stout77 sailors of his yacht, Bel Ami, guarded him, as he sadly walked on the beach regarding with tear-stained cheeks his favourite boat, he was taken to Passy, to Doctor Blanche's institution. One of his examining physicians there was Doctor Franklin Grout, who later married Flaubert's niece, Caroline Commanville.
July 6, 1893, Maupassant died, as a lamp is extinguished for lack of oil. But the year he [Pg 299] spent at the asylum78 was wretched; he became a mere79 machine, and perhaps the only pleasure he experienced was the hallucination of bands of black butterflies that seemed to sweep across his room. Monsieur Maynial does not tell of the black butterflies, the truth of which I can vouch80 for, as I heard the story from Lassalle, the French barytone, a friend of Maupassant's.
It may be interesting to the curious to learn that the good-hearted, brave heroine of Boule de Suif was a certain Adrienne Legay of Rouen, and that she heartily81 reprobated the writer for giving her story to the world. She even went so far as to say that Guy did it in a spirit of revenge. Madame Laure de Maupassant made inquiries82 about the patriotic83 little sinner so as to help her. It was too late. She had died in extreme poverty. The heroine of Mademoiselle Fifi was a brunette, Rachel by name; the hero was a young German officer, Baron William d'Eyrick.
Would Maupassant have reached the sunlit heights, as Tolstoy believed? Who may say? Truth lies not at the bottom of a well, but in suffering; suffering alone reveals the truth of himself, of his soul to man, and Guy had suffered as few; he had passed into the Inferno84 that later Nietzsche entered, passed into though not through it. Turgenieff, for whom Guy entertained a profound regard, had influenced him more than he, with his doglike fidelity85 for Flaubert, would have cared to acknowledge. [Pg 300] Paul Bourget gives us chapter and verse for this statement; furthermore, the same authority, has described—in his Etudes et Portraits—the enormous travail of Maupassant in pursuit of style—he, seemingly, the most spontaneous writer of his generation. His books offend, delight, startle, and edify86 thousands of readers. That they have done absolute harm we are not prepared to say; book wickedness is, after all, an academic, not a vital question. If all the wicked books that have seen the light of publication had wrought87 the evil predicted of them the earth would be an abomination. In reality, we discuss with varying shades of enthusiasm or detestation such frank literature—naturally when it is literature—and after the hullabaloo of the moral bell-boys has ceased, the book is quietly forgotten on its shelf. Flaubert once wrote of the vast fund of indifference88 possessed89 by society. Dramas, books, pictures, statues have never ruined our overmoral world. The day for such things—if there ever was such a day—has passed. Besides, among the people of most nations, the hatred90 of art and literature is pushed to the point of lecturing boastfully about that same hatred.
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deficient
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| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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apotheosis
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| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
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vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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humanitarianism
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| n.博爱主义；人道主义；基督凡人论 | |
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epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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prosecuted
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| a.被起诉的 | |
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peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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psychical
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| adj.有关特异功能现象的；有关特异功能官能的；灵魂的；心灵的 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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temperaments
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| 性格( temperament的名词复数 )； （人或动物的）气质； 易冲动； （性情）暴躁 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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iota
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| n.些微，一点儿 | |
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pictorial
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| adj.绘画的；图片的；n．画报 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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suffuses
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的第三人称单数 ) | |
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lyric
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| n.抒情诗，歌词；adj.抒情的 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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psychiatrist
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| n.精神病专家；精神病医师 | |
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definitive
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| adj.确切的，权威性的；最后的，决定性的 | |
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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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bureaucrat
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| n. 官僚作风的人，官僚，官僚政治论者 | |
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travail
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| n.阵痛；努力 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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cocaine
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| n.可卡因，古柯碱（用作局部麻醉剂） | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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debuts
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| 演员首次演出( debut的名词复数 ) | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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irreverence
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| n.不尊敬 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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edify
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| v.陶冶；教化；启发 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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