"L'Argent," a tale of the Paris financial world, inspired chiefly by
the crash of the Union Générale Bank some years before. Of all the
subjects he had hitherto approached he found this the most difficult to
treat. He had no financiers among his friends, he had never dabbled in
Bourse gambling, and was at a loss for information respecting much of
the inner working of what the French call _la haute banque_. However,
while frequenting the Bourse almost daily for a whole month, he
obtained enlightenment from some gentlemen of the stock-broking world,
to whom he was introduced. He also studied the detailed reports of the
great swindles of previous years, going back as far as the time of the
notorious Mirès, which was, of course, legitimate, the period of his
story being that of the Second Empire. One may add that in writing his
book he did not spare some of the Jew financiers of Paris. "L'Argent"
appeared serially in the "Gil Blas," which paid twelve hundred pounds
for the privilege, and was issued as a volume in 1891.[14] Goncourt
mentions that while Zola was writing the work he again expressed his
anxiety to finish his series. There were to be only two more volumes,
one on the Franco-German war of 1870, and the other, in which he then
took most interest, a general summing-up of his "family history" by
a scientific man, Dr. Pascal Rougon, whom he thought of marrying
to some retrograde, bigoted woman who would destroy successively
everything he wrote. And Zola sighed that he wished he could obtain
permission to inspect the papers of Claude Bernard, on whose published
writings he had reared, as will be remembered, his theory of _le roman
expérimental_. As for his projected "war" book, he did not think he
could make much of a novel of it. His idea at that moment was to
show some character "promenading" through the siege of Paris and the
Commune.[15]
When, however, he took the subject in hand--spending the greater part
of 1891 in collecting and classifying materials[16]--his views changed,
and he decided rightly to make the battle of Sedan the keystone of the
work. The expression _"la débâcle"_ occurs already in Alexis's "Notes
d'un Ami," published in 1882, but at a later stage Zola thought of
calling his book "La Guerre" ("War"). It is just possible that this was
because a couple of French novels bearing the title of "La Débâcle"
were in existence already.[17] However, French authors are much less
punctilious than English ones with respect to titles, and it would be
easy to mention several instances in which the same has been used--by
different writers--three or four times over. In any case, Zola reverted
to the title of "La Débâcle" as being the most appropriate to his
series, signifying as it did the "smash-up" of that imperial _régime_
whose society he had been describing so long; and though charges of
plagiarism were so often brought against him, it would not appear that
any arose on this occasion.
Zola had found "L'Argent" a difficult subject, and now the preparation
of "La Débâcle" proved a herculean task for him. He had never witnessed
an engagement in the field; military matters were almost as foreign to
him as financial ones. He had dealt with them in a few short stories
only, such as "Le Capitaine Burle" and "Les Quatre Journées de Jean
Gourdon." But he now visited all the battlefields which were to figure
in his narrative, he followed the line of march of the Seventh Army
Corps, whose sufferings he intended to describe, he studied everything
that had been printed and published in France on his subject, and
he was fortunate enough to secure a large number of letters and
manuscripts in which eye-witnesses recounted one and another episode
of the battle of Sedan. Some of those communications emanated from
"privates," who set down their own curious personal experiences and
often naïve impressions; and for Zola's purpose these were even more
valuable than the reports of generals and other officers. What he made
of his subject the world knows; of all the books he ever wrote "La
Débâcle" has circulated the most widely.
One notable effect of that great epic on war was to determine some
revulsion of feeling in England with respect to the novelist. Directly
the liquidation of Vizetelly & Co.'s business had been decided on,
Ernest Vizetelly had found his occupation gone, for there were no new
books to be initiated or seen through the press, and even most of
those already in hand were abandoned, at least for the time. Vizetelly
was therefore reduced to very great straits. At a moment's notice,
so to say, he had to seek a living elsewhere. He was a journalist
by profession, but for two or three years he had virtually severed
his connection with newspapers. Moreover, his press work had almost
invariably been that of a foreign correspondent, and his experience
of such duties, even with some knowledge of European languages and
politics thrown in, did not give him much chance of securing work in
London. Again, one editor under whom he had written for eleven years
had retired; another was dead. He knocked at a few editorial doors and
encountered an unpromising reception. There was a decided prejudice
against anybody bearing his name. After the release of his father
from Holloway he helped him in a few little ventures, but was unable
to secure any regular remunerative work. Many young men with only
themselves to think of often find it hard to begin life; it is harder
still to begin it afresh when one is seven and thirty and has given
hostages to fortune. Vizetelly was married, had two children, and was
expecting the advent of another child. Robert Buchanan, whom he often
saw in connection with his father's troubles, inquired about his own
private circumstances, and on learning the position generously helped
him. "As you know," said Buchanan, "there are certain people who taunt
me in the papers because I draw a Civil List pension and yet make a
considerable income by my pen. Well, the truth is, Vizetelly, that the
pension often proves very useful. It will help me to assist you, as it
has helped me to assist a good many others."
When the baby was born and Vizetelly's wife was on foot again, "they
took their courage in both hands," as the French say, and moved to
a neighbourhood where living was cheap. And though their street was
"slummy," and from their front windows ragged urchins were constantly
to be seen fetching penn'orths of porter in pewter cans, and often
sampling the liquor on their way home, there lay behind the little
house they rented a large cabbage field, beyond which were the grounds
of Carnwath House and all the trees of Hurlingham. Vizetelly chose for
his work a first-floor room, whence one looked out on the cabbage patch
and the trees, and tried to devise some means of earning a living.
For a while the sale of his books and the pawnshop helped him, and he
gradually contrived to dispose of a few articles to newspapers. But
the one idea that haunted him was to bring Zola to the front again
in England. It was neither friendship for Zola nor an overpowering
admiration for his writings that inspired that idea. Vizetelly thought
chiefly of the ruin of his family and the odium cast on it by all that
had happened. At the same time he knew that Zola as well as his father
had been cruelly maligned by the Pecksniffs and those who had abetted
them.
Unfortunately nothing could be done at once. The next book that Zola
wrote (after "Le Rêve") was "La Bête Humaine," and such was the
state of public opinion that it seemed impossible to produce even a
bowdlerised version of that work in England. Vizetelly felt--as he had
felt with respect to the earlier translations--that one must proceed
cautiously, that the ground must be well prepared in advance if the
doctrine of outspokenness were ever to triumph. His father had acted
too audaciously, too precipitately, with little or no diplomacy. And
diplomacy was needed. It was useless to run against a wall of Cootes
and Clarkes, an outflanking movement must be tried.
After "La Bête Humaine" came "L'Argent," and that book and its subject
did not seem attractive enough to pave the way for a genuine revival
of Zola in England. So Vizetelly again had to wait. It was a dreary
time, but his wife was as plucky a woman as lived, and between them
they managed to keep the wolf from the door. At last, in the summer of
1891, on hearing that Zola had begun a novel on the Franco-German war,
it occurred to Vizetelly that the opportunity for which he had been
waiting since 1889 might be at hand. There were great possibilities in
the subject chosen by Zola, and it was one which had much attraction
for Vizetelly, who with boyish ambition had tried what he could do with
his pen and his pencil amid the fierce struggle which was now to be
Zola's theme.
Communications ensued between them, but though the novelist speedily
assented to the suggestions made to him, Vizetelly had much difficulty
in finding an English newspaper willing to publish a translation of "La
Débâcle" while the original was appearing in "La Vie Populaire." "Le
Figaro," one may mention, had offered Zola a very large sum for the
privilege of serialising that work; but he had declined the proposal,
saying that it would be absurd to publish his narrative of the battle
of Sedan, some two hundred pages long, in short daily "snippets." He
preferred to take the twelve hundred pounds offered him by "La Vie
Populaire," which appeared weekly, and was able to allot several pages
of each number to his work.
Vizetelly naturally desired to issue his translation in an English
journal, but editors feared apparently that they might soil their
immaculate hands if they had anything to do with the loathsome Zola.
Thus there were repulses upon every side, until Mr. Kibblewhite, of the
"Weekly Times and Echo," rising above the general prejudice, accepted
the proposals made to him. The translation as inserted in the "Weekly
Times" was anonymous, for Vizetelly was too shrewd to thrust himself
forward after all that had happened. However, he now tried to find a
firm willing to publish "The Downfall," as the translation was called,
in a volume; and again, in this respect also, he encountered several
rebuffs. Two publishers to whom proofs were sent returned the parcels
unopened; others, who were visited, curtly declined to negotiate,
one made a low offer, so low as to give the author little and the
translator virtually nothing. Thus the book went begging. Vizetelly
became disheartened, and his wife eventually suggested that he should
cease his efforts, since they only consumed time in which he might have
earned a little money. He felt she was right, but as a last attempt he
sent a few of his proofs, with a letter, to Messrs. Chatto and Windus.
This was a kind of forlorn hope. Judging by the firm's catalogue,
there was apparently little prospect that it would accept anything by
Zola. But Mr. Andrew Chatto and his partner, Mr. Percy Spalding, set
prejudices aside and took the trouble to look at what was submitted to
them. They agreed to publish the book, and were recompensed for their
enterprise by its very great success. Such, then, was the origin of a
connection which, as some readers may know, resulted in Messrs. Chatto
publishing nearly all the Zola translations and "revisions" attempted
by Ernest Vizetelly.
In the case of a new work by a foreign author of established
reputation, it is usually advisable that the translation should appear
at the same time as the original; but, owing to circumstances, the
success of "The Downfall" was helped materially by the earlier issue of
the French volume. Directly the latter appeared in Paris[18] Vizetelly
recommended it to a few former war correspondents; and as the praise
which Archibald Forbes bestowed upon Zola's work in a literary journal
exercised some influence, a dozen laudatory articles soon found their
way into the newspapers.
Moreover "La Débâcle" created an extraordinary sensation in France,
Germany, and other parts of Europe. The foreign correspondents of the
English press repeatedly had occasion to refer to it, thus virtually
compelling attention to the book. In Paris Zola's enemies assailed
him fiercely. They wanted to know what he himself had done during the
Franco-German war. The Imperialists accused him of having slandered
Napoleon III. The more zealous patriots declared it was disgraceful
to have written such a book, which, said they, was a mere speculation
on the country's misfortunes. And some took particular offence at the
title of "La Débâcle." Why indeed had not the author chosen another?
Zola, mildly astonished by this question, made answer that it was not
he but the Emperor and his generals who had lost the battle of Sedan,
and that he would infinitely have preferred to write a very different
book if the military men had only allowed him to do so.
The work had been published as a volume in June (1892), and in August
Zola, accompanied by his wife, betook himself, to Lourdes to witness
the more important pilgrimages there, a glimpse of which he had
obtained the previous autumn. From Lourdes he made his way to Italy,
where he now set foot for the first time. On this occasion he would
seem to have gone no further than Genoa, where he remained a short
time, and where some attention was shown him. Early in October he
arrived at Monte Carlo on his way home and wrote to Vizetelly, saying,
"I am about to return to Paris to begin my next book, 'Dr. Pascal.' It
will be a story of private life and passion in the style of 'Une Page
d'Amour' and 'La Joie de Vivre.' Its chief interest will lie in its
being the last volume of the 'Rougon-Macquart' series. In France it
will hardly appear serially before February next, but you may already
try to place an English translation of it. It will not offend the
modesty of your fellow-countrymen."
The translation was promptly offered to the "Weekly Times" and accepted
by it, the book rights being reserved. Under date November 4, Zola
confirmed this arrangement, and writing again, ten days later, he
said: "I can undertake to say that the story will contain nothing
to offend the prudery of your compatriots, and, besides, I give you
full authority to modify any passages which may seem to you to be
_inquiétants_." As some may be aware, there were certain passages
of that nature; and Vizetelly, bent on proceeding cautiously and
diplomatically, deleted them.
Zola naturally took great pleasure in writing this book for, as he
remarked to his friend, Mr. Sherard, it gave him an opportunity to pass
his entire series in review and defend himself against many of the
accusations brought against him.
"It is not a book to stir the passions of the multitude,"
he said; "it is a scientific work, the logical outcome and
conclusion of all my previous volumes; and at the same time
it is my speech for the defence before the court of public
opinion. It will be a sermon on atavism and will set forth my
theory that when men know how to master its influence they
will be masters of their own destinies. And the conclusion
will be the philosophical one which I have sought ever since
I first took pen in hand to write the series: that we ought
to have faith in life and confidence in Nature.... Yes, that
despite all that is cruel and ugly and incomprehensible in
Nature, despite all the suffering and injustice of life, all
that is bad and seems irremediable in the world, we ought to
preserve confidence in Nature, and stake our hopes on effort
and work. Further, that, though we may not see it, we are
surely pushing forward towards a certain end and object; that
there is a field of hope in Nature, and that good will come
out of all that is bad, that justice will emerge from the
slough of injustice, that a day of beauty will dawn after a
night of hideous darkness, and that the result of all our
efforts and our suffering must surely be one that will reward
the first and compensate us for the other."[19]
Zola sold the first French serial rights in "Le Docteur Pascal" to a
periodical called "La Révue hebdomadaire,"[20] in which the story
appeared from March till June, 1893. With the volume, issued a few
weeks later,[21] a new genealogical tree of the Rougon-Macquart family
was given, this including the names of the additional members created
by Zola's fancy since his first inception of the series.
To celebrate its completion his publishers gave a _déjeuner champêtre_
at the Chalet restaurant on the larger of the Grand Lac islands in
the Bois de Boulogne. A numerous company of literary men and artists
assembled there, but the proceedings may have aroused some jealousy
among a few old friends, for men like Daudet and Goncourt were absent.
The former, who had long since renounced the Academy and all its pomps,
did not approve of Zola's "perpetual candidature"--he was, by the way,
then offering himself for three _fauteuils_ simultaneously--and thus
there was a coldness between them. Goncourt also was opposed to the
Academy, and meditated the establishment of a rival one of his own
"for novelists only." So in this case again there was some coldness,
particularly as Zola felt that certain references to himself in the
earlier volumes of the "Journal des Goncourt," then lately issued, were
not quite such as one might have expected from a bosom friend. We know,
however, by later entries in the "Journal," that Zola and Goncourt
continued to meet virtually until the latter's death. True it is that
Goncourt at one time meant to appoint Zola to the chief position in his
so-called "Academy," and that he afterwards renounced that intention.
But, contrary to what some writers have asserted, Zola was by no
means disappointed at being left out of it. As a matter of fact, he
had deliberately rendered himself ineligible by seeking admittance to
the real Academy; and, besides, from the outset he had put very little
faith in Goncourt's scheme. However, his friendship with Goncourt and
Daudet, whatever their differences, subsisted till the last. Of the
part which he took when Daudet died some mention will be made hereafter.
[Illustration: MS.]
At the lunch at the Chalet des Iles the novelist's health was proposed
by his old friend and publisher, M. Charpentier, and after the toast
had been acknowledged, M. Catulle Mendès, who, as will be remembered,
had gallantly assisted Zola when the columns of "La Cloche" and "Le
Bien Public" were closed to "La Curée" and "L'Assommoir," spoke of the
old quarrels between the Naturalists and the Parnassians, to which
latter sect he, Mendès, had belonged. And, said he, though he still
looked upon poetry as a much superior art to prose, he was anxious to
declare publicly that he regarded Zola as one of the great literary
glories of France. This was very pretty; and the novelist, not to be
left behind in a matter of compliments, responded by referring to
Mendès as a perfect artist and a good friend. Finally he proposed a
toast to work, his old hobby, as he called it, the only one in which
true happiness could be found. For some inscrutable reason General
Iung--whose researches into the Iron Mask mystery may be remembered,
and who happened to be among the guests on this occasion--thought
the moment appropriate to re-echo a remark which had run through the
newspapers, and to which one has already referred. "Monsieur Zola,"
said he, "you have written 'The Smash-up' ('La Débâcle'), let us hope
that you will soon write 'Victory.'" "Ah, general!" replied Zola,
raising his forefinger, "that is your business." And thereupon he sat
down.
The value of books is not to be estimated by their length or even by
their popularity. Yet it may not be inappropriate to point out that
the Rougon-Macquart series, which Zola had now completed, was really
a colossal performance. Besides a large variety of other work, the
novelist had written the twenty volumes of that series in about five
and twenty years, introducing, as he proceeded, no fewer than twelve
hundred characters to his readers. The twenty volumes represented
nine thousand pages of print, each of three and thirty lines, and,
assuming an average of nine words per line and making allowance for
"blanks,"--by no means numerous in Zola's works,--one may say that
they contained quite two million five hundred thousand words. Passing
to another matter, one finds that at the time of the appearance of "Le
Docteur Pascal" there had been sold over half a million copies of the
ordinary Charpentier edition of the series. The popular illustrated
editions of several of the stories, first sold in what one may call
"penny parts," had also circulated very widely, at least to the extent
of a quarter of a million copies; and further there had been some
_éditions de luxe_, copies on special papers, and so forth. Moreover,
there were five novels written before the Rougon-Macquart series was
begun, with four volumes of short stories and seven volumes of essays
and other papers, issued at various times, and one may therefore assume
that between eight and nine hundred thousand copies of Zola's books
had been sold at the period we now deal with. And of course thousands
and thousands of readers had been reached by serial publication. Of
the circulation of the many translations it is impossible to give even
an idea, but some of the English and American volumes had sold by tens
of thousands, and there were versions of many of Zola's writings in
German, Italian, Russian, Dutch, Hungarian, and other languages. But
books, as we know, by no means represented the whole of Zola's work;
there were also many scores, if not hundreds, of ephemeral uncollected
newspaper articles to be added to them, as well as several plays, so
that his output stood at quite five million words. It was evident then
that he practised what he preached,--that gospel of work, which others,
such as Tolstoï, the prophet of resignation, occasionally derided but
which he himself found all-sustaining.
He took it as a part of his text when speaking at a gathering of
the Paris Students' Association, over which he presided that year,
1893,[22] for though the Academy still refused him admittance, some
recognition of his labours was coming from other quarters. On the
occasion of the National Fête, following the completion of his great
series, he was raised from the rank of chevalier to that of officer
of the Legion of Honour; and for some years in succession, a very
rare occurrence, he was chosen as Président de la Société des Gens de
Lettres. It was this circumstance that caused the English Institute of
Journalists to invite him and other representative French writers to
attend one of its congresses in London. Zola's connection with Ernest
Vizetelly had now become a close one. A translation of "Le Docteur
Pascal" had followed that of "La Débâcle," and arrangements had been
made for an English version of a previous work, "L'Argent," Zola
indorsing all Vizetelly's proposals in a letter in which he said: "My
dear _confrère_, I leave translation matters entirely to you, and it
is sufficient you should tell me that an arrangement is good for me to
accept it. I know you to be devoted to my interests, and you are well
placed to decide everything."[23] Under these circumstances, early in
August 1893, soon after receiving the invitation of the Institute of
Journalists, Zola communicated with Vizetelly and asked him for certain
information. "I should like to know," he wrote, "what will be the
importance of this congress, and whether it will offer much interest.
You know my position in London; my work is still very much questioned
there, almost denied. It certainly seems to me that my presence, and
the words I might speak, might efface much of the misunderstanding, and
that it would be politic to accept, in order to influence opinion. But
what is your view? Reply to me at once at Médan."