A Start in Life
Modeste Mignon
Modeste Mignon
Beatrix
Beatrix
Honorine
Honorine
Le Colonel Chabert
Colonel Chabert
La Messe de l'Athee
The Atheist's Mass
L'Interdiction
The Commission in Lunacy
Pierre Grassou
Pierre Grassou
SCENES DE LA VIE PROVINCE
SCENES FROM PROVINCIAL LIFE
Ursule Mirouet
Ursule Mirouet
Eugenie Grandet
Eugenie Grandet
Les Celibataires:
The Celibates:
Pierrette
Pierrette
Le Cure de Tours
The Vicar of Tours
Un Menage de Garcon
A Bachelor's Establishment
The Two Brothers
The Black Sheep
La Rabouilleuse
Les Parisiens en Province:
Parisians in the Country:
L'illustre Gaudissart
Gaudissart the Great
The Illustrious Gaudissart
La Muse du departement
The Muse of the Department
Les Rivalites:
The Jealousies of a Country Town:
La Vieille Fille
The Old Maid
Le Cabinet des antiques
The Collection of Antiquities
Le Lys dans la Vallee
The Lily of the Valley
Illusions Perdues:--I.
Lost Illusions:--I.
Les Deux Poetes
The Two Poets
Un Grand homme de province a Paris, 1re partie
A Distinguished Provincial at Paris, Part 1
Illusions Perdues:--II.
Lost Illusions:--II.
Un Grand homme de province, 2e p.
A Distinguished Provincial at Paris, Part 2
Eve et David
Eve and David
SCENES DE LA VIE PARISIENNE
SCENES FROM PARISIAN LIFE
Splendeurs et Miseres des Courtisanes:
Scenes from a Courtesan's Life:
Esther heureuse
Esther Happy
A combien l'amour revient aux vieillards
What Love Costs an Old Man
Ou menent les mauvais Chemins
The End of Evil Ways
La derniere Incarnation de Vautrin
Vautrin's Last Avatar
Un Prince de la Boheme
A Prince of Bohemia
Un Homme d'affaires
A Man of Business
Gaudissart II.
Gaudissart II.
Les Comediens sans le savoir
The Unconscious Humorists
The Unconscious Comedians
Histoire des Treize:
The Thirteen:
Ferragus
Ferragus
La Duchesse de Langeais
The Duchesse de Langeais
La Fille aux yeux d'or
The Girl with the Golden Eyes
Le Pere Goriot
Father Goriot
Old Goriot
Grandeur et Decadence de Cesar Birotteau
The Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau
La Maison Nucingen
The Firm of Nucingen
Les Secrets de la princesse de Cadignan
The Secrets of a Princess
The Secrets of the Princess Cadignan
Les Employes
The Government Clerks
Bureaucracy
Sarrasine
Sarrasine
Facino Cane
Facine Cane
Les Parents Pauvres:--I.
Poor Relations:--I.
La Cousine Bette
Cousin Betty
Les Parents Pauvres:--II.
Poor Relations:--II.
Le Cousin Pons
Cousin Pons
Les Petits Bourgeois
The Middle Classes
The Lesser Bourgeoise
SCENES DE LA VIE POLITIQUE
SCENES FROM POLITICAL LIFE
Une Tenebreuse Affaire
The Gondreville Mystery
An Historical Mystery
Un Episode sous la Terreur
An Episode Under the Terror
L'Envers de l'Histoire Contemporaine:
The Seamy Side of History:
The Brotherhood of Consolation:
Mme. de la Chanterie
Madame de la Chanterie
L'Initie
Initiated
The Initiate
Z. Marcas
Z. Marcas
Le Depute d'Arcis
The Member for Arcis
The Deputy for Arcis
SCENES DE LA VIE MILITAIRE
SCENES FROM MILITARY LIFE
Les Chouans
The Chouans
Une Passion dans le desert
A Passion in the Desert
SCENES DE LA VIE DE CAMPAGNE
SCENES FROM COUNTRY LIFE
Le Medecin de Campagne
The Country Doctor
Le Cure de Village
The Country Parson
The Village Rector
Les Paysans
The Peasantry
Sons of the Soil
ETUDES PHILOSOPHIQUES
PHILOSOPHICAL STUDIES
La Peau de Chagrin
The Magic Skin
La Recherche de l'Absolu
The Quest of the Absolute
The Alkahest
Jesus-Christ en Flandre
Christ in Flanders
Melmoth reconcilie
Melmoth Reconciled
Le Chef-d'oeuvre inconnu
The Unknown Masterpiece
The Hidden Masterpiece
L'Enfant Maudit
The Hated Son
Gambara
Gambara
Massimilla Doni
Massimilla Doni
Les Marana
The Maranas
Juana
Adieu
Farewell
Le Requisitionnaire
The Conscript
The Recruit
El Verdugo
El Verdugo
Un Drame au bord de la mer
A Seaside Tragedy
A Drama on the Seashore
L'Auberge rouge
The Red Inn
L'Elixir de longue vie
The Elixir of Life
Maitre Cornelius
Maitre Cornelius
Sur Catherine de Medicis:
About Catherine de' Medici
Le Martyr calviniste
The Calvinist Martyr
La Confidence des Ruggieri
The Ruggieri's Secret
Les Deux Reves
The Two Dreams
Louis Lambert
Louis Lambert
Les Proscrits
The Exiles
Seraphita
Seraphita
AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION
In giving the general title of "The Human Comedy" to a work begun nearly
thirteen years since, it is necessary to explain its motive, to relate
its origin, and briefly sketch its plan, while endeavoring to speak of
these matters as though I had no personal interest in them. This is
not so difficult as the public might imagine. Few works conduce to
much vanity; much labor conduces to great diffidence. This observation
accounts for the study of their own works made by Corneille, Moliere,
and other great writers; if it is impossible to equal them in their fine
conceptions, we may try to imitate them in this feeling.
The idea of _The Human Comedy_ was at first as a dream to me, one of
those impossible projects which we caress and then let fly; a chimera
that gives us a glimpse of its smiling woman's face, and forthwith
spreads its wings and returns to a heavenly realm of phantasy. But this
chimera, like many another, has become a reality; has its behests, its
tyranny, which must be obeyed.
The idea originated in a comparison between Humanity and Animality.
It is a mistake to suppose that the great dispute which has lately
made a stir, between Cuvier and Geoffroi Saint-Hilaire, arose from
a scientific innovation. Unity of structure, under other names, had
occupied the greatest minds during the two previous centuries. As we
read the extraordinary writings of the mystics who studied the sciences
in their relation to infinity, such as Swedenborg, Saint-Martin,
and others, and the works of the greatest authors on Natural
History--Leibnitz, Buffon, Charles Bonnet, etc., we detect in the
_monads_ of Leibnitz, in the _organic molecules_ of Buffon, in the
_vegetative force_ of Needham, in the correlation of similar organs of
Charles Bonnet--who in 1760 was so bold as to write, "Animals vegetate
as plants do"--we detect, I say, the rudiments of the great law of Self
for Self, which lies at the root of _Unity of Plan_. There is but one
Animal. The Creator works on a single model for every organized being.
"The Animal" is elementary, and takes its external form, or, to be
accurate, the differences in its form, from the environment in which
it is obliged to develop. Zoological species are the result of these
differences. The announcement and defence of this system, which is
indeed in harmony with our preconceived ideas of Divine Power, will
be the eternal glory of Geoffroi Saint-Hilaire, Cuvier's victorious
opponent on this point of higher science, whose triumph was hailed by
Goethe in the last article he wrote.
I, for my part, convinced of this scheme of nature long before the
discussion to which it has given rise, perceived that in this respect
society resembled nature. For does not society modify Man, according to
the conditions in which he lives and acts, into men as manifold as the
species in Zoology? The differences between a soldier, an artisan, a man
of business, a lawyer, an idler, a student, a statesman, a merchant, a
sailor, a poet, a beggar, a priest, are as great, though not so easy
to define, as those between the wolf, the lion, the ass, the crow,
the shark, the seal, the sheep, etc. Thus social species have always
existed, and will always exist, just as there are zoological species. If
Buffon could produce a magnificent work by attempting to represent in
a book the whole realm of zoology, was there not room for a work of the
same kind on society? But the limits set by nature to the variations of
animals have no existence in society. When Buffon describes the lion, he
dismisses the lioness with a few phrases; but in society a wife is not
always the female of the male. There may be two perfectly dissimilar
beings in one household. The wife of a shopkeeper is sometimes worthy of
a prince, and the wife of a prince is often worthless compared with the
wife of an artisan. The social state has freaks which Nature does not
allow herself; it is nature _plus_ society. The description of social
species would thus be at least double that of animal species, merely in
view of the two sexes. Then, among animals the drama is limited; there
is scarcely any confusion; they turn and rend each other--that is all.
Men, too, rend each other; but their greater or less intelligence makes
the struggle far more complicated. Though some savants do not yet admit
that the animal nature flows into human nature through an immense tide
of life, the grocer certainly becomes a peer, and the noble sometimes
sinks to the lowest social grade. Again, Buffon found that life was
extremely simple among animals. Animals have little property, and
neither arts nor sciences; while man, by a law that has yet to be
sought, has a tendency to express his culture, his thoughts, and his
life in everything he appropriates to his use. Though Leuwenhoek,
Swammerdam, Spallanzani, Reaumur, Charles Bonnet, Muller, Haller and
other patient investigators have shown us how interesting are the habits
of animals, those of each kind, are, at least to our eyes, always and
in every age alike; whereas the dress, the manners, the speech, the
dwelling of a prince, a banker, an artist, a citizen, a priest, and
a pauper are absolutely unlike, and change with every phase of
civilization.
Hence the work to be written needed a threefold form--men, women, and
things; that is to say, persons and the material expression of their
minds; man, in short, and life.
As we read the dry and discouraging list of events called History,
who can have failed to note that the writers of all periods, in Egypt,
Persia, Greece, and Rome, have forgotten to give us a history of
manners? The fragment of Petronius on the private life of the Romans
excites rather than satisfies our curiosity. It was from observing this
great void in the field of history that the Abbe Barthelemy devoted his
life to a reconstruction of Greek manners in _Le Jeune Anacharsis_.
But how could such a drama, with the four or five thousand persons which
society offers, be made interesting? How, at the same time, please
the poet, the philosopher, and the masses who want both poetry and
philosophy under striking imagery? Though I could conceive of the
importance and of the poetry of such a history of the human heart, I
saw no way of writing it; for hitherto the most famous story-tellers had
spent their talent in creating two or three typical actors, in depicting
one aspect of life. It was with this idea that I read the works
of Walter Scott. Walter Scott, the modern troubadour, or finder
(_trouvere=trouveur_), had just then given an aspect of grandeur to a
class of composition unjustly regarded as of the second rank. Is it not
really more difficult to compete with personal and parochial interests
by writing of Daphnis and Chloe, Roland, Amadis, Panurge, Don Quixote,
Manon Lescaut, Clarissa, Lovelace, Robinson Crusoe, Gil Blas, Ossian,
Julie d'Etanges, My Uncle Toby, Werther, Corinne, Adolphe, Paul and
Virginia, Jeanie Deans, Claverhouse, Ivanhoe, Manfred, Mignon, than
to set forth in order facts more or less similar in every country,
to investigate the spirit of laws that have fallen into desuetude, to
review the theories which mislead nations, or, like some metaphysicians,
to explain what _Is_? In the first place, these actors, whose existence
becomes more prolonged and more authentic than that of the generations
which saw their birth, almost always live solely on condition of their
being a vast reflection of the present. Conceived in the womb of their
own period, the whole heart of humanity stirs within their frame, which
often covers a complete system of philosophy. Thus Walter Scott raised
to the dignity of the philosophy of History the literature which, from
age to age, sets perennial gems in the poetic crown of every nation
where letters are cultivated. He vivified it with the spirit of the
past; he combined drama, dialogue, portrait, scenery, and description;
he fused the marvelous with truth--the two elements of the times; and he
brought poetry into close contact with the familiarity of the humblest
speech. But as he had not so much devised a system as hit upon a manner
in the ardor of his work, or as its logical outcome, he never thought of
connecting his compositions in such a way as to form a complete history
of which each chapter was a novel, and each novel the picture of a
period.
It was by discerning this lack of unity, which in no way detracts from
the Scottish writer's greatness, that I perceived at once the scheme
which would favor the execution of my purpose, and the possibility of
executing it. Though dazzled, so to speak, by Walter Scott's amazing
fertility, always himself and always original, I did not despair, for I
found the source of his genius in the infinite variety of human nature.
Chance is the greatest romancer in the world; we have only to study it.
French society would be the real author; I should only be the secretary.
By drawing up an inventory of vices and virtues, by collecting the
chief facts of the passions, by depicting characters, by choosing
the principal incidents of social life, by composing types out of a
combination of homogeneous characteristics, I might perhaps succeed in
writing the history which so many historians have neglected: that of
Manners. By patience and perseverance I might produce for France in the
nineteenth century the book which we must all regret that Rome, Athens,
Tyre, Memphis, Persia, and India have not bequeathed to us; that history
of their social life which, prompted by the Abbe Barthelemy, Monteil
patiently and steadily tried to write for the Middle Ages, but in an
unattractive form.
This work, so far, was nothing. By adhering to the strict lines of a
reproduction a writer might be a more or less faithful, and more or less
successful, painter of types of humanity, a narrator of the dramas of
private life, an archaeologist of social furniture, a cataloguer of
professions, a registrar of good and evil; but to deserve the praise of
which every artist must be ambitious, must I not also investigate the
reasons or the cause of these social effects, detect the hidden sense
of this vast assembly of figures, passions, and incidents? And finally,
having sought--I will not say having found--this reason, this motive
power, must I not reflect on first principles, and discover in what
particulars societies approach or deviate from the eternal law of truth
and beauty? In spite of the wide scope of the preliminaries, which might
of themselves constitute a book, the work, to be complete, would need a
conclusion. Thus depicted, society ought to bear in itself the reason of
its working.
The law of the writer, in virtue of which he is a writer, and which I do
not hesitate to say makes him the equal, or perhaps the superior, of the
statesman, is his judgment, whatever it may be, on human affairs,
and his absolute devotion to certain principles. Machiavelli, Hobbes,
Bossuet, Leibnitz, Kant, Montesquieu, _are_ the science which statesmen
apply. "A writer ought to have settled opinions on morals and politics;
he should regard himself as a tutor of men; for men need no masters to
teach them to doubt," says Bonald. I took these noble words as my guide
long ago; they are the written law of the monarchical writer. And
those who would confute me by my own words will find that they have
misinterpreted some ironical phrase, or that they have turned against me
a speech given to one of my actors--a trick peculiar to calumniators.
As to the intimate purpose, the soul of this work, these are the
principles on which it is based.
Man is neither good nor bad; he is born with instincts and capabilities;
society, far from depraving him, as Rousseau asserts, improves him,
makes him better; but self-interest also develops his evil tendencies.
Christianity, above all, Catholicism, being--as I have pointed out in
the Country Doctor (_le Medecin de Campagne_)--a complete system for
the repression of the depraved tendencies of man, is the most powerful
element of social order.
In reading attentively the presentment of society cast, as it were, from
the life, with all that is good and all that is bad in it, we learn this
lesson--if thought, or if passion, which combines thought and feeling,
is the vital social element, it is also its destructive element. In this
respect social life is like the life of man. Nations live long only
by moderating their vital energy. Teaching, or rather education, by
religious bodies is the grand principle of life for nations, the only
means of diminishing the sum of evil and increasing the sum of good in
all society. Thought, the living principle of good and ill, can only be
trained, quelled, and guided by religion. The only possible religion is
Christianity (see the letter from Paris in "Louis Lambert," in which the
young mystic explains, _a propos_ to Swedenborg's doctrines, how there
has never been but one religion since the world began). Christianity
created modern nationalities, and it will preserve them. Hence, no
doubt, the necessity for the monarchical principle. Catholicism and
Royalty are twin principles.
As to the limits within which these two principles should be confined
by various institutions, so that they may not become absolute, every one
will feel that a brief preface ought not to be a political treatise. I
cannot, therefore, enter on religious discussions, nor on the political
discussions of the day. I write under the light of two eternal
truths--Religion and Monarchy; two necessities, as they are shown to be
by contemporary events, towards which every writer of sound sense ought
to try to guide the country back. Without being an enemy to election,
which is an excellent principle as a basis of legislation, I reject
election regarded as _the only social instrument_, especially so badly
organized as it now is (1842); for it fails to represent imposing
minorities, whose ideas and interests would occupy the attention of
a monarchical government. Elective power extended to all gives us
government by the masses, the only irresponsible form of government,
under which tyranny is unlimited, for it calls itself law. Besides, I
regard the family and not the individual as the true social unit. In
this respect, at the risk of being thought retrograde, I side with
Bossuet and Bonald instead of going with modern innovators. Since
election has become the only social instrument, if I myself were to
exercise it no contradiction between my acts and my words should be
inferred. An engineer points out that a bridge is about to fall, that it
is dangerous for any one to cross it; but he crosses it himself when it
is the only road to the town. Napoleon adapted election to the spirit of
the French nation with wonderful skill. The least important members of
his Legislative Body became the most famous orators of the Chamber
after the Restoration. No Chamber has ever been the equal of the _Corps
Legislatif_, comparing them man for man. The elective system of the
Empire was, then, indisputably the best.
Some persons may, perhaps, think that this declaration is somewhat
autocratic and self-assertive. They will quarrel with the novelist for
wanting to be an historian, and will call him to account for writing
politics. I am simply fulfilling an obligation--that is my reply. The
work I have undertaken will be as long as a history; I was compelled
to explain the logic of it, hitherto unrevealed, and its principles and
moral purpose.
Having been obliged to withdraw the prefaces formerly published, in
response to essentially ephemeral criticisms, I will retain only one
remark.
Writers who have a purpose in view, were it only a reversion to
principles familiar in the past because they are eternal, should always
clear the ground. Now every one who, in the domain of ideas, brings his
stone by pointing out an abuse, or setting a mark on some evil that it
may be removed--every such man is stigmatized as immoral. The accusation
of immorality, which has never failed to be cast at the courageous
writer, is, after all, the last that can be brought when nothing else
remains to be said to a romancer. If you are truthful in your pictures;
if by dint of daily and nightly toil you succeed in writing the most
difficult language in the world, the word _immoral_ is flung in your
teeth. Socrates was immoral; Jesus Christ was immoral; they both were
persecuted in the name of the society they overset or reformed. When a
man is to be killed he is taxed with immorality. These tactics, familiar
in party warfare, are a disgrace to those who use them. Luther and
Calvin knew well what they were about when they shielded themselves
behind damaged worldly interests! And they lived all the days of their
life.
When depicting all society, sketching it in the immensity of its
turmoil, it happened--it could not but happen--that the picture
displayed more of evil than of good; that some part of the fresco
represented a guilty couple; and the critics at once raised a cry
of immorality, without pointing out the morality of another position
intended to be a perfect contrast. As the critic knew nothing of the
general plan I could forgive him, all the more because one can no more
hinder criticism than the use of eyes, tongues, and judgment. Also the
time for an impartial verdict is not yet come for me. And, after all,
the author who cannot make up his mind to face the fire of criticism
should no more think of writing than a traveler should start on his
journey counting on a perpetually clear sky. On this point it remains
to be said that the most conscientious moralists doubt greatly whether
society can show as many good actions as bad ones; and in the picture
I have painted of it there are more virtuous figures than reprehensible
ones. Blameworthy actions, faults and crimes, from the lightest to the
most atrocious, always meet with punishment, human or divine, signal or
secret. I have done better than the historian, for I am free. Cromwell
here on earth escaped all punishment but that inflicted by thoughtful
men. And on this point there have been divided schools. Bossuet even
showed some consideration for great regicide. William of Orange, the
usurper, Hugues Capet, another usurper, lived to old age with no more
qualms or fears than Henri IV. or Charles I. The lives of Catherine
II. and of Frederick of Prussia would be conclusive against any kind
of moral law, if they were judged by the twofold aspect of the morality
which guides ordinary mortals, and that which is in use by crowned
heads; for, as Napoleon said, for kings and statesmen there are the
lesser and the higher morality. My scenes of political life are founded
on this profound observation. It is not a law to history, as it is to
romance, to make for a beautiful ideal. History is, or ought to be, what
it was; while romance ought to be "the better world," as was said by
Mme. Necker, one of the most distinguished thinkers of the last century.