Dear master,
Cruchard should have thanked you sooner for sending him your last
book; but his reverence is working like ten thousand negroes, that
is his excuse. But it did not hinder him from reading "Impressions
et Souvenirs." I already knew some of it, from having read it in le
Temps (a pun). [Footnote: "Dans de temps" means also, "some time
ago."]
This is what was new to me and what struck me: (1) the first
fragment; (2) the second in which there is a charming and just page
on the Empress. How true is what you say of the proletariat! Let us
hope that its reign will pass like that of the bourgeois, and for
the same causes, as a punishment for the same folly and a similar
egoism.
The "Reponse a un ami" I knew, as it was addressed to me.
The "Dialogue avec Delacroix" is instructive; two curious pages on
what he thought of father Ingres.
I am not entirely of your opinion as regards the punctuation. That
is to say that I would shock you by my exaggeration in that respect;
but I do not lack, naturally, good reasons to defend my point of
view.
"J'allume le fagot," etc., all of this long article charmed me.
In the "Idees d'un maitre d'ecole," I admire your pedagogic spirit,
dear master, there are many pretty a b c phrases.
Thank you for what you say of my poor Bouilhet!
I adore your "Pierre Bonin." I have known people like him, and as
these pages are dedicated to Tourgueneff it is the moment to ask you
if you have read "I'Abandonnee"? For my part, I find it simply
sublime. This Scythian is an immense old fellow.
I am not at such high-toned literature now. Far from it! I am
hacking and re-hacking "le Sexe faible." I wrote the first act in a
week. It is true that my days are long. I spent, last week, one of
eighteen hours, and Cruchard is as fresh as a young girl, not tired,
no headache. In short, I think that I shall be through that work in
three weeks. After that, God knows what!
It would be funny if Carvalho's fantasticality was crowned with
success!
I am afraid that Maurice has lost his wager, for I want to replace
the three theological virtues by the face of Christ appearing in the
sun. What do you think about it? When the correction is made and I
have strengthened the massacre at Alexandria and clarified the
symbolism of the fantastic beasts, "Saint-Antoine" will be finished
forever, and I shall start at my two good fellows who were set aside
for the comedy.
What a horrid way of writing is required for the stage! The
ellipses, the delays, the questions and the repetitions have to be
lavish, if movement is desired, and all that in itself is very ugly.
I am perhaps blinding myself, but I think that I am now writing
something very quick and easy to play. We shall see.
Adieu, dear master, embrace all yours for me.
Your old good-for-nothing Cruchard, friend of Chalumeau. Note that
name. It is a gigantic story, but it requires one to toe the mark to
tell it suitably.
CCLVIII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 4 July, 1873
I don't know where you are at present, Cruchard of my heart. I am
addressing this to Paris whence I suppose it will be forwarded to
you. I have been ill, your reverence, nothing except a stupid
anemia, no legs, no appetite, continual sweat on the forehead and my
heart as jumpy as a pregnant woman; it is unfair, that condition,
when one gets to the seventies, I begin my seventieth spring
tomorrow, cured after a half score of river baths. But I find it so
comfortable to rest that I have not yet done an iota of work since I
returned from Paris, and until I opened my ink-well again to write
to you today. We reread your letter this morning in which you said
that Maurice had lost his wager. He insists that he has won it as
you are taking out the vertus theologales.
As for me, bet or no bet, I want you to keep the new version which
is quite in the atmosphere, while the theological virtues are not.--
Have you any news of Tourgueneff? I am worried about him. Madame
Viardot wrote me, several days ago, that he had fallen and hurt his
leg.--Yes, I have read l'Abandonnee, it is very beautiful as is all
that he does. I hope that his injury is not serious! such a thing is
always serious with gout.
So you are still working frantically? Unhappy one! you don't know
the ineffable pleasure of doing nothing! And how good work will seem
to me after it! I shall delay it however as long as possible. I am
getting more and more of the opinion that nothing is worth the
trouble of being said!
Don't believe a word of that, do write lovely things, and love your
old troubadour who always cherishes you.