"FRUITFULNESS" is the first of a series of four works in which M. Zola
proposes to embody what he considers to be the four cardinal principles
of human life. These works spring from the previous series of The Three
Cities: "Lourdes," "Rome," and "Paris," which dealt with the principles
of Faith, Hope, and Charity. The last scene in "Paris," when Marie,
Pierre Froment's wife, takes her boy in her arms and consecrates him, so
to say, to the city of labor and thought, furnishes the necessary
transition from one series to the other. "Fruitfulness," says M. Zola,
"creates the home. Thence springs the city. From the idea of citizenship
comes that of the fatherland; and love of country, in minds fed by
science, leads to the conception of a wider and vaster fatherland,
comprising all the peoples of the earth. Of these three stages in the
progress of mankind, the fourth still remains to be attained. I have
thought then of writing, as it were, a poem in four volumes, in four
chants, in which I shall endeavor to sum up the philosophy of all my
work. The first of these volumes is 'Fruitfulness'; the second will be
called 'Work'; the third, 'Truth'; the last, 'Justice.' In 'Fruitfulness'
the hero's name is Matthew. In the next work it will be Luke; in 'Truth,'
Mark; and in 'justice,' John. The children of my brain will, like the
four Evangelists preaching the gospel, diffuse the religion of future
society, which will be founded on Fruitfulness, Work, Truth, and
Justice."
This, then, is M. Zola's reply to the cry repeatedly raised by his hero,
Abbé Pierre Froment, in the pages of "Lourdes," "Paris," and "Rome": "A
new religion, a new religion!" Critics of those works were careful to
point out that no real answer was ever returned to the Abbé's despairing
call; and it must be confessed that one must yet wait for the greater
part of that answer, since "Fruitfulness," though complete as a
narrative, forms but a portion of the whole. It is only after the
publication of the succeeding volumes that one will be able to judge how
far M. Zola's doctrines and theories in their _ensemble_ may appeal to the
requirements of the world.
While "Fruitfulness," as I have said, constitutes a first instalment of
M. Zola's conception of a social religion, it embodies a good deal else.
The idea of writing some such work first occurred to him many years ago.
In 1896 he contributed an article to the Paris _Figaro_, in which he
said: "For some ten years now I have been haunted by the idea of a novel,
of which I shall, doubtless, never write the first page.... That novel
would have been called 'Wastage'... and I should have pleaded in it in
favor of all the rights of life, with all the passion which I may have in
my heart."[1] M. Zola's article then proceeds to discuss the various social
problems, theories, and speculations which are set forth here and there
in the present work. Briefly, the genesis of "Fruitfulness" lies in the
article I have quoted.
[Footnote 1: See _Nouvelle Campagne_ (1896), par Émile Zola.
Paris, 1897, pp. 217-228.]
"Fruitfulness" is a book to be judged from several standpoints. It would
be unjust and absurd to judge it from one alone, such, for instance, as
that of the new social religion to which I have referred. It must be
looked at notably as a tract for the times in relation to certain
grievous evils from which France and other countries--though more
particularly France--are undoubtedly suffering. And it may be said that
some such denunciation of those evils was undoubtedly necessary, and that
nobody was better placed to pen that denunciation than M. Zola, who,
alone of all French writers nowadays, commands universal attention.
Whatever opinion may be held of his writings, they have to be reckoned
with. Thus, in preparing "Fruitfulness," he was before all else
discharging a patriotic duty, and that duty he took in hand in an hour of
cruel adversity, when to assist a great cause he withdrew from France and
sought for a time a residence in England, where for eleven months I was
privileged to help him in maintaining his incognito. "Fruitfulness" was
entirely written in England, begun in a Surrey country house, and
finished at the Queen's Hotel, Norwood.
It would be superfluous for me to enter here into all the questions which
M. Zola raises in his pages. The evils from which France suffers in
relation to the stagnancy of its population, are well known, and that
their continuance--if continuance there be--will mean the downfall of the
country from its position as one of the world's great powers before the
close of the twentieth century, is a mathematical certainty. That M.
Zola, in order to combat those evils, and to do his duty as a good
citizen anxious to prevent the decline of his country, should have dealt
with his subject with the greatest frankness and outspokenness, was only
natural. Moreover, absolute freedom of speech exists in France, which is
not the case elsewhere. Thus, when I first perused the original proofs of
M. Zola's work, I came to the conclusion that any version of it in the
English language would be well-nigh impossible. For some time I remained
of that opinion, and I made a statement to that effect in a leading
literary journal. Subsequently, however, my views became modified. "The
man who is ridiculous," wrote a French poet, Barthélemy, "is he whose
opinions never change," and thus I at last reverted to a task from which
I had turned aside almost in despair.
Various considerations influenced me, and among them was the thought that
if "Fruitfulness" were not presented to the public in an English dress,
M. Zola's new series would remain incomplete, decapitated so far as
British and American readers were concerned. After all, the criticisms
dealing with the French original were solely directed against matters of
form, the mould in which some part of the work was cast. Its high moral
purpose was distinctly recognized by several even of its most bitter
detractors. For me the problem was how to retain the whole _ensemble_ of
the narrative and the essence of the lessons which the work inculcates,
while recasting some portion of it and sacrificing those matters of form
to which exception was taken. It is not for me to say whether I have
succeeded in the task; but I think that nothing in any degree offensive
to delicate susceptibilities will be found in this present version of M.
Zola's book.
The English reviews of the French original showed that if certain
portions of it were deemed indiscreet, it none the less teemed with
admirable and even delightful pages. Among the English reviewers were two
well-known lady writers, Madame Darmesteter (formerly Miss Mary
Robinson), and Miss Hannah Lynch. And the former remarked in one part of
her _critique_: "Even this short review reveals how honest, how moral, how
human and comely is the fable of _Fécondité_,"[2] while the latter
expressed the view that the work was "eminently, pugnaciously virtuous in
M. Zola's strictly material conception of virtue." And again: "The pages
that tell the story of Mathieu and Marianne, it must be admitted, are as
charming as possible. They have a bloom, a beauty, a fragrance we never
expected to find in M. Zola's work. The tale is a simple one: the
cheerful conquest of fortune and the continual birth of offspring."[3]
[Footnote 2: _Manchester Guardian_, October 27, 1899.]
[Footnote 3: _Fortnightly Review_, January 1900.]
Of course, these lady critics did not favor certain features of the
original, and one of them, indeed, referred to the evil denounced by M.
Zola as a mere evil of the hour, whereas it has been growing and
spreading for half a century, gradually sapping all the vitality of
France. But beside that evil, beside the downfall of the families it
attacks, M. Zola portrays the triumph of rectitude, the triumph which
follows faith in the powers of life, and observance of the law of
universal labor. "Fruitfulness" contains charming pictures of homely
married life, delightful glimpses of childhood and youth: the first
smile, the first step, the first word, followed by the playfulness and
the flirtations of boyhood, and the happiness which waits on the
espousals of those who truly love. And the punishment of the guilty is
awful, and the triumph of the righteous is the greatest that can be
conceived. All those features have been retained, so far as my abilities
have allowed, in the present version, which will at the same time, I
think, give the reader unacquainted with the French language a general
idea of M. Zola's views on one of the great questions of the age, as well
as all the essential portions of a strongly conceived narrative.