(1844-)
[Illustration: ANATOLE FRANCE]
Anatole France, whose real name of Thibault is sunk in his literary
signature, was born in Paris, April 16th, 1844. His father, a wealthy
bookseller, seems to have been a thoughtful, meditative man, and his
mother a woman of great refinement and tenderness. Their son shows the
result of the double influence. Always fond of books, he early devoted
himself to literary work, and made his debut as writer in 1868 in a
biographical study of Alfred de Vigny. This was shortly followed by
two volumes of poetry: 'Les Poemes Dores' (Golden Verses) and 'Les
Noces Corintheennes' (Corinthian Revels). Since this work of his youth
he has published at least twelve novels and romances, of which the
most familiar are: 'Le Crime de Sylvestre Bonnard' (The Crime of
Sylvestre Bonnard), 'Le Livre de Mon Ami' (My Friend's Book), 'Le Lys
Rouge' (The Red Lily), and 'Les Desirs de Jean Servieu' (Jean
Servieu's Wishes). Several volumes of essays, critical introductions
to splendid editions of Racine, Moliere, La Fontaine, and Le Sage, of
'Manon Lescaut' and 'Paul and Virginia,' numberless studies of men and
books for the reviews and journals,--these measure the tireless
industry of an incessant worker. In 1876 M. France became an attache
of the Library of the Senate. In December 1896 he was received as
member of the French Academy, succeeding to the chair of Ferdinand de
Lesseps, whose eulogy he pronounced with exquisite taste and grace.
Like Renan, whose disciple he is, this fine artist was formed in the
clerical schools. His perfection of style, clear, distinguished,
scintillating with wit and fancy, furnishes, as a distinguished French
critic remarks, a strong contrast to the painful and heavy periods of
the literary products of a State education. He is an enthusiastic
humanist, a fervent Neo-Hellenist, delicately sensitive to the beauty
of the antique, the magic of words, and the harmony of phrase.
Outside of France, his best known works are 'Le Crime de Sylvestre
Bonnard' (crowned by the Academy) and 'Le Livre de Mon Ami.' The
first of these expresses the author's Hellenism, sentiment,
experience, love of form, and gentle pessimism. Into the character of
Sylvestre Bonnard, that intelligent, contemplative, ironical,
sweet-natured old philosopher, he has put most of himself. In 'Le
Livre de Mon Ami' are reflected the childhood and youth of the author.
It is a living book, made out of the impulses of the heart, holding
the very essence of moral grace, written with exquisite irony
absolutely free from bitterness.
It is to be regretted that in some of his later writings this charming
writer has fallen short of the standard of these works, though the
versatility of talent he displays is great and admirable. In 'Thais'
he has painted the magnificent Alexandria of the Ptolemies; in 'Le Lys
Rouge' the Florence of to-day. In 'La Rotisserie de la Reine Pedauque'
(The Cook-Shop of the Queen Pedauque) and in 'Les Opinions de M.
Jerome Coignard,' Gil Blas, Rabelais, Wilhelm Meister, and Montaigne
seem to jostle each other. In 'Le Jardin d'Epicure' (The Garden of
Epicurus) a modern Epicurus, discreet, indulgent, listless, listens to
lively discussions between the shades of Plato, Origen, Augustine,
Hegel, and Schopenhauer, while an Esquimaux refutes Bossuet, a
Polynesian develops his theory of the soul, and Cicero and Cousin
agree in their estimate of a future life.
In his own words, M. Anatole France has always been inclined to take
life as a spectacle, offering no solution of its perplexities,
proposing no remedies for its ills. His literary quality, as M. Jules
Lemaitre observes, owes little or nothing to the spirit or literature
of the North. His intelligence is the pure and extreme product of
Greek and Latin tradition.