Your troubadour.
Paris, Friday evening, 28 August or 4 September, 1868. In October,
yes, I will try!
XCIII. TO GEORGE SAND
Saturday evening
I received your two notes, dear master. You send me "halcyon" to
replace the word, "dragonfly." Georges Pouchet suggested gerre of
the lakes (genus, Gerris). Well! neither the one nor the other suits
me, because they do not immediately make a picture for the ignorant
reader.
Must I then describe that little creature? But that would retard the
movement! That would fill up all the landscape I shall put "insects
with large feet" or "long insects." That would be clear and short.
Few books have gripped me more than Cadio, and I share entirely
Maxime's [Footnote: Maxime Du Camp.] admiration.
I should have told you of it sooner if my mother and my niece had
not taken my copy. At last, this evening, they gave it back to me;
it is here on my table, and I am turning the pages as I write you.
In the first place, it seems to me as if IT OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN THE
WAY IT IS! It is plain, it gets you and thrills you. How many people
must be like Saint-Gueltas, like Count de Sauvieres, like Rebec!
and even like Henri, although the models are rarer. As for the
character of Cadio, which is more of an invention than the others,
what I like best in him is his ferocious anger. In it is the
special truth of the character. Humanity turned to fury, the
guillotine become mystic, life only a sort of bloody dream, that is
what must take place in such heads. I think you have one
Shakespearean scene: that of the delegate to the Convention with his
two secretaries, is of an incredible strength. It makes one cry out!
There is one also which struck me very much at the first reading:
the scene where Saint-Gueltas and Henri each have the pistols in
their pockets: and many others. What a fine page (I open by chance)
is page 161!
In the play won't you have to give a longer role to the wife of the
good Saint-Gueltas? The play ought not to be very hard to cut. It is
only a question of condensing and shortening it. If it is played,
I'll guarantee a terrific success. But the censorship?
Well, you have written a masterpiece, that's true! and a very
amusing one. My mother thinks it recalls to her stories that she
heard while a child. A propos of Vendee, did you know that her
paternal grandfather was, after M. Lescure, the head of the Vendee
army? The aforesaid head was named M. Fleuriot d'Argentan. I am not
any the prouder for that; besides the thing is doubtful, for my
grandfather, a violent republican, hid his political antecedents.
My mother is going in a few days to Dieppe, to her grandchild's. I
shall be alone a good part of the summer, and I plan to grub.
"I labor much and shun the world.
It is not at balls that the future is founded."
(Camilla Doucet.)
But my everlasting novel bores me sometimes in an incredible
manner! These tiny details are stupid to bother with! Why annoy
oneself about such a miserable subject?
I would write you at length about Cadio; but it is late and my eyes
are smarting.
So, thank you, very kindly, my dear master.
XCIV. To M. GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Croissset
Paris, end of September, 1868
Dear friend,
It is for Saturday next, 3rd October. I am at the theatre every
evening from six o'clock till two in the morning. They talk of
putting mattresses behind the scenes for the actors who are not in
front. As for me, as used to wakefulness as you are, I experience no
fatigue; but I should be very much bored if I had not the resource
that one has always, of thinking of other things. I am sufficiently
accustomed to it to be writing another play while they are
rehearsing, and there is something quite exciting in these great
dark rooms where mysterious characters move, talking in low tones,
in unexpected costumes; nothing is more like a dream, unless one
imagines a conspiracy of patients escaped from Bicetre.
I don't at all know what the performance will be. If one did not
know the prodigies of harmony and of vim which occur at the last
moment, one would judge it all impossible, with thirty-five or forty
speaking actors of whom only five or six speak well. One spends
hours over the exits and entrances of the characters in blue or
white blouses who are to be the soldiers or the peasants, but who,
meanwhile perform incomprehensible manoeuvres. Still the dream. One
has to be a madman to put on these things. And the frenzy of the
actors, pale and worn out, who drag themselves to their place
yawning, and suddenly start like crazy people to declaim their
tirade; continually the assembling of insane people.
The censorship has left us alone as regards the manuscript; tomorrow
these gentlemen will inspect the costumes, which perhaps will
frighten them.
I left my dear world very quiet at Nohant. If Cadio succeeds, it
will be a little DOT for Aurore; that is all my ambition. If it does
not succeed, I shall have to begin over again, that is all.
I shall see you. Then, in any case, that will be a happy day. Come
to see me the night before, if you arrive the night before, or even
the same day. Come to dine with me the night before or the same day;
I am at home from one o'clock to five. Thank you; I embrace you and
I love you.