(1829-)
[Illustration: VICTOR CHERBULIEZ]
In 1863 the Revue des Deux Mondes offered its readers a novel by a young
author very slightly known to Parisian _litterateurs_. But everybody
read him with interest, whether cordially approving or not. The story
was not evolutionary, had no definite moral purpose. Perhaps the public
were glad to temporarily lay aside their instruments for scientific
dissection of literary art; for 'Le Comte Kostia,' a lively tale of
romantic adventure, was the most popular story that had been published
by the Revue des Deux Mondes. Naturally the gratified editors accepted
the author as a regular contributor, which he has been ever since. He
had been introduced to them by George Sand, who, pleased with an earlier
work of his, wrote him appreciatively and did him this kind turn. This
earlier work, 'Un Cheval de Phidias' (A Horse by Phidias), cordially
praised by Sainte-Beuve, was a capable dissertation upon archaeology and
art, strung on a thread of narrative.
The young author, Victor Cherbuliez,--Genevese, of French descent,--was
about thirty-four when 'Le Comte Kostia' appeared. A critic in
discussing him speaks almost enviously of the liberalizing influences
experienced in cosmopolitan little Switzerland. Cherbuliez's advantages
have been great. His father was a professor in the university, and of
his parents it has been pleasantly said that from his father he learned
all he ought to know, from his mother all he ought to be. He was
graduated from the University of Geneva, and later studied history and
philosophy at Paris, Bonn, and Berlin. For a time he taught at Geneva;
then he married, and with his wife traveled extensively in the East,
where he collected abundant material for his trained powers of
observation and his love of social and artistic questions. He has been a
member of the Academy since 1881, and now lives in Paris,--a perennial
novel-writer, distinguished also for the clever sketches on modern
French politics which appear regularly in the Revue des Deux Mondes
signed "George Valbert."
But his best and most abundant work has been in fiction, where his
talent lies in the union of romantic imagination with a practical view
of life. There is sometimes falsetto in the imagination, but it
gratifies a liking for falsetto in many readers. Translated, his novels
have been read almost as much in English as in French; and among the
best liked are 'L'Idee de Jean Teterol' (Jean Teterol's Idea); 'La
Revanche de Joseph Noircel' (Joseph Noircel's Revenge); 'Le Docteur
Rameau.'
If they refuse Cherbuliez a place among great writers, at least the
critics always respect his cleverness, and recognize the range of his
information regarding the art, literature, politics, and history of
different lands. The prime quality of his work is _interest_. His
remarkable inventiveness shows in one unusual situation after another,
without repetition and with always fresh stimulus. His kinship with
George Sand's romantic spirit was felt at once, and his style has always
remained essentially unchanged. But that his earlier emotional
spontaneity has grown with maturity to a more conventional spirit, may
be seen by comparing the two ends of his work. In 'Le Comte Kostia' we
have the persecution of a beautiful young daughter by a Russian
nobleman. He forces her to hide her sex and personate the son he has
lost, and subjects her to many terrors until she is rescued by his
chivalrous young secretary, who in time discovers her secret and marries
her,--but first, numberless adventures and scenes of passion. In 'Le Roi
Epepi' (King Epepi: 1895) there is no profound emotion. It is the
cleverly cynical account of the rescue by a worldly old uncle of a
romantic and short-sighted nephew. The young man, infatuated by an
adventuress, insists upon marrying her. The uncle ingeniously, without
compromising himself, leads the lady to believe that he himself is in
love with her. Naturally she prefers proprietor to heir, and throws over
the latter only to find herself deceived.
Perhaps the best way to indicate Cherbuliez's place in French literature
is by comparison with the English Trollope. Both create interest. Both
have a swift firm style, with sometimes almost too facile a rush. But
while Trollope draws ordinary men and women who talk in ordinary
fashion, Cherbuliez invents brilliant-minded people who shower us with
epigram. They shoulder too much of their creator's erudition, and are
too clever to be quite natural.