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MALLARMÉ Stéphane (1842-1898)
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MALLARMÉ Stéphane (1842-1898)
L.A.S. "Stéphane Mallarmé", "Paris, 87 rue de Rome" October 31, 1878, to Léon HENNIQUE| 6 pages in-8.
A fine eulogy of Léon Hennique's first novel, La Dévouée: héros modernes (Charpentier, 1878).
He read twice his beautiful novel. "Not that I doubt all the talent in your pages jumps out at you! I knew you were a man capable of much. The safety alone of your manner somewhat astonished me.
Conception aside, this is the novel of a writer who has written twelve| and what there is of mastery in this beginning confuses me. From the walk in the Moulineaux, where the air, the real, the breathable circulates in such a palpable way, to all the other pieces of the volume, there is an ease and a search, intensity with lightness of touch, in short everything that makes the artist offline"... He has some reservations about Geoffrin's character, but "Michelle, in whom I don't see a modern Hero, because she acts unconsciously and completely passively (then heroism is, I think, rather to suffer evil and send a scoundrel father to the vengeful scaffold!) is, nonetheless, adorable. All the other characters come out of the book, once closed, walk and enter into existence, so arbitrary and true are they. Except for the tricoloured wooden leg, which is not absolutely characteristic enough of the contemporary poet, your letter from Father Hugo again, which I am sorry, not a line to be erased. Your work stands with its perfection of outward vision and its undeniable life"...
He would still have a thousand things to say to him, but it is time to leave for the countryside. However "everything you have drawn there is so clear and remains so well in mind, that I am not afraid of having forgotten anything, this winter, when we will meet again at ZOLA's"...
L.A.S. "Stéphane Mallarmé", "Paris, 87 rue de Rome" October 31, 1878, to Léon HENNIQUE| 6 pages in-8.
A fine eulogy of Léon Hennique's first novel, La Dévouée: héros modernes (Charpentier, 1878).
He read twice his beautiful novel. "Not that I doubt all the talent in your pages jumps out at you! I knew you were a man capable of much. The safety alone of your manner somewhat astonished me.
Conception aside, this is the novel of a writer who has written twelve| and what there is of mastery in this beginning confuses me. From the walk in the Moulineaux, where the air, the real, the breathable circulates in such a palpable way, to all the other pieces of the volume, there is an ease and a search, intensity with lightness of touch, in short everything that makes the artist offline"... He has some reservations about Geoffrin's character, but "Michelle, in whom I don't see a modern Hero, because she acts unconsciously and completely passively (then heroism is, I think, rather to suffer evil and send a scoundrel father to the vengeful scaffold!) is, nonetheless, adorable. All the other characters come out of the book, once closed, walk and enter into existence, so arbitrary and true are they. Except for the tricoloured wooden leg, which is not absolutely characteristic enough of the contemporary poet, your letter from Father Hugo again, which I am sorry, not a line to be erased. Your work stands with its perfection of outward vision and its undeniable life"...
He would still have a thousand things to say to him, but it is time to leave for the countryside. However "everything you have drawn there is so clear and remains so well in mind, that I am not afraid of having forgotten anything, this winter, when we will meet again at ZOLA's"...