(1860-'87)
Laforgue was the "end of a period"; that is to say, he summed up and
summarized and dismissed nineteenth-century French literature, its
foibles and fashions, as Flaubert in "Bouvard and Pécuchet" summed up
nineteenth-century general civilization. He satirized Flaubert's heavy
"Salammbô" manner inimitably, and he manages to be more than a critic,
for in process of this ironic summary he conveys himself, _il raconte
lui-même en racontant son âge et ses mœurs_, he delivers the moods
and the passion of a rare and sophisticated personality: "point ce
'gaillard-là' ni le Superbe ... mais au fond distinguée et franche comme
une herbe"!
Oh! laissez-moi seulement reprendre haleine,
Et vous aurez un livre enfin de bonne foi.
En attendant, ayez pitié de ma misère!
Que je vous sois à tous un être bienvenu!
Et que je sois absous pour mon âme sincère,
Comme le fut Phryné pour son sincère nu.
He is one of the poets whom it is practically impossible to "select."
Almost any other six poems would be quite as "representative" as the six
I am quoting.