C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Critical and Biographical Introduction by Pierre Dareutiere de Bâcourt (18691924)
By Maurice Barrès (18621923)
M
His family wished him to become a magistrate. In 1880 he began to study law, but Flaubert, Montesquieu, d’Aubigné, and many other thinkers attracted him a great deal more than the civil or the penal code. He contributed irregularly to La Jeune France. M. Allenet, director of that periodical, showed some of the young man’s manuscripts to Anatole France and to Leconte de Lisle, who advised him to come to Paris. His essays not being always accepted by the editors, as he thought they should have been, he began in 1884 to publish himself ‘Les Taches d’Encre’ (The Ink Blots), which lasted little more than a year, but helped him to gain admission to the leading dailies and periodicals. In 1884, in collaboration with Charles Le Goffic, he started another review, ‘Les Chroniques,’ which was also shortlived. This time it was not to help the printing of his own prose but the verse of another, Jules Tellier, the charming symbolist poet, who died too soon to give the real measure of his talent. Late in 1887 his first book, ‘Sous l’Œil des Barbares,’ was published, and in the early days of 1888 a remarkable article by Paul Bourget in Le Journal des Débats forced it upon the attention of the élite. At his first attempt Maurice Barrès had attained fame. With ‘L’Homme Libre’ (1889) and ‘Le Jardin de Bérénice’ (1891) this book forms a trilogy—’Le Culte du Moi’—the cult of self or the cult of the ego.
To analyze these works is, to say the least, difficult; they have no plot, few episodes, and although the connection between the various parts is, on the whole, quite logical, the thread is difficult to follow. The ‘Culte du Moi’ is a series of essays on the philosophical doctrine of the author and on his interpretation of life; he has himself called the series one of metaphysical novels. If the qualifying adjective “metaphysical” is justified, the same cannot be said of the substantive—for these books are not novels. Psychology plays an important part in them but it is neither Taine’s nor Bourget’s; there is little analysis and much description.
Philip, the hero and practically the only character, has finished his studies in a provincial college. In the mind of this twenty-year-old boy the influences of literary Romanticism and Kantian philosophy are easily discernible. In him, religion, ethics, sentiment of nationality have been destroyed, and the teachings of his masters have been powerless to reconstruct any rule of life, so that he is content to hold to the only reality that, in his eyes, indubitably exists: his ego. Self-knowledge, self-culture, will be the ultimate goal of his efforts. But disturbing influences hinder him in his studies; he shuts like Vigny the door of his “tour d’ivoire” against the Barbarians of the external world and tries to avoid all contact with them. This proves to be a hard task, for life in society is made up of intercourse with others. Although he shrinks back from the touch of unsympathetic beings he soon realizes that the reaction causes new feelings, which he analyzes when he returns into his inner world: “Pleasure begins only with the melancholy of remembrances … to offer any sweetness an act must be transmuted into thinking matter.” The external is only important in so far as it is modified by his thoughts; “it is he himself who creates the universe; he is the universe.” This theory is akin to the transcendental idealism of Fichte. On the other hand, in reading of exploits of prowess, Philip yearns for action; he wants to rule and also to serve; but what torture “after having embraced in thought all the degrees of human development, to begin life from the lowest step of the ladder.” He is thus induced to limit his inner world. Philip will continue to dream with the utmost energy, but will not attempt to transport his dreams into real life. “Like scientists who handle deadly substances and disturbing hypotheses, the makers of rare feelings must not attempt their experiments among men. Their over-developed souls have hardly any place in our world. They must keep what is most different in them to adorn their dreams.”
In the two parts of ‘Sous l’Œil des Barbares,’ called respectively “with the books” and “at Paris,” after having examined and discussed the effects of study and culture on his soul as well as the reaction produced on it by contact with the outside world, Philip attains certitude. His ego does exist; it is the only thing of which he possesses a full and unquestionable consciousness. Consequently it is this ego that he must develop and improve.
Philip, having retired to the heart of Lorraine with his friend Simon, continues in ‘L’Homme Libre’ his experiments. After having submitted themselves to medical tests in order to ascertain that they are bodily sound, for physical disorder in their eyes would be as bad as being afflicted with “Victor Hugo mental twist,” they decide upon a rule and select that of St. Ignace de Loyola, an astonishing choice in a man who from the start decides that neither morality nor religion any longer exists. And then they commune with Sainte-Beuve, Benjamin Constant, Marie Bashkirtseff, and other egotists.
Philip travels through Lorraine; he visits Bar-le-Duc the ancient ducal town, Sion the religious shrine. In thinking of the fate of his province, “once the most populous in Europe, which gave promise of a high civilization and produced many heroes and has now lost the memory of her destroyed greatness and of her effaced genius,” Philip trembles for himself. Will he fail?
During this pilgrimage Philip clarifies the conception of his ego and learns to master his own soul. There, in the tender and melancholy description of the scenery of his native land, so full of historical and sentimental associations, we foresee the awakening of his worship for his country.
Like many of his ancestors of Northern strain, the ancient Latin culture of Italy attracts him. In Milan, in Venice, he continues to dream, to feel, to study. The Queen of the Adriatic inspires him with some of his most brilliant pages. There he found a “psychic life that mingled with the depths of his subconsciousness in one vast reservoir of delight. And with such acuteness did he follow his most confused sentiments that in them he was able to discern the future in process of formation. His life was decided at Venice, and it was from Venice that he wished to date his future works.” In Italy, Philip clears his conception of the Barbarians, of the non ego, and he learns how to assimilate what is most conducive in their works to his own development. From his experience he evolves the following rule of life:
Beéreénice plays a small part; she is a purely instinctive agent. Is she a girl, the people’s soul, or the Unconscious? asks Barrès himself. She participates in some way with the friendly animals, the hairy dog and others, which roam in her garden,—nay, she is little more than an accident of evolution. Sweet and fair, she is for the author a pretext for charming descriptions but neither her character nor her opinions are significant.
This book, abounding in admirable pages, is too subtle in its theories, in which we discern the influence of the philosophy of Hartmann and that of Schopenhauer; towards the end the author seems inclined to abandon the task of following the ego in its bewildering evolutions, and for the first time we find a trace of the nationalistic tendencies which are to play such a preponderant part in Barrès’ after life.
Barrès, having decided that the proper place for the ego was in the world, among men, was led to study sociological conditions. As the ego is paramount, not a single individual must be oppressed even for the sake of the community. With this truism as a starting point, André Malterre, the hero of ‘L’Ennemi des Lois’ (1893), examines how society can be organized. It goes without saying that he is an anarchist from every point of view, political, moral, and intellectual.
Two women play a part in the book. Claire is all mind and has “a passion for professors”; Marina, a Russian princess, artless and sensual, is quite the reverse. Malterre is at first the lover of Marina, later on the husband of Claire, and finally they compromise by living all three together. Quite an immoral solution, had not the writer from the beginning explained that it was merely an allegory.
With Claire, Malterre visits Germany and analyzes the effect of German socialism upon German sensibility. For an intellectual like Barrès it is a shock to realize that economic revolution is their only aim, that their socialism appeals exclusively “to the belly.” “Give something that will change the heart of man,” exclaims Andreé: “it is a state of mind and not laws that the world demands—a moral and not a material reform.”
The ‘Roman de l’Énergie nationale’ is composed of three novels or rather three volumes, the first, ‘Les Déracinés,’ being the only one that can be accurately called by that name. It is of special interest because of its presentation of Barrès’ doctrine of “regionalism.” ‘Les Déracinés’ (The uprooted) are seven young Lorrainers of different temperament and station in life but substantially of the same formation. Having studied the system of Kant with Professor Bouteillier (whose characteristics are strangely similar to those of the late Professor Burdeau), they have retained only of his teachings the critical sense; he has given them “no prop either in their race or in their land.” They go to Paris, and, severed from all former connections, are an easy prey to the onslaught of their passions. Three of these young men, Sturel, Roemerspacher, and St.-Phlin, have means; the first two represent the leisurely and intellectual middle class and the last the conservative county families. Bouteillier is the type of the educator who branches off into politics and attempts to transport into life the dry theories of the classroom. Suret-Lefort is the climbing and unscrupulous newspaper man. Mouchefrin and Racadot, two penniless but ambitious youths, might have been worthy citizens had they remained in their native province, surrounded and supported by old friends and associations, but blinded by the intense life of the capital, insufficiently prepared, they launch a newspaper; they are driven to the wall, and in order to extricate themselves, resort to robbery and murder. Racadot is executed and Mouchefrin, his accomplice, escapes through the weakness of Sturel, who, though having knowledge of inculpating facts, keeps silent.
The episodes are too numerous to be related in detail, but the book, of an extremely diversified and keen psychology, has a deep moral and social meaning: we must remain faithful to our native province or region. If a race wants to survive it must above all consider itself as the heir of the dead buried in its soil and must cherish all the customs accumulated through centuries. Every man who wants to reach his highest development must remain attached to the land of his ancestors. “Regionalism” has had, ever since, considerable influence on French politics and literature.
‘Les Amitiés Françaises’ (1905) explains the genesis of Barrès’ nationalism. The following quotations sum up clearly the purport of the book:
‘Colette Baudoche’ (1909) forms with ‘Les Amitiés Françaises’ and ‘Au Service de l’Allemagne’ a trilogy called ‘Les Bastions de l’Est.’ It is really a novel; we find there a hero, Dr. Frederic Asmus, a young Pomeranian professor, who represents the German soul and nature, and Colette Baudoche, a young girl from Metz, who is evidently the impersonation of French culture. Asmus, appointed to the lycée of Metz, former capital of annexed Lorraine, finds lodgings in the house of Mme. Baudoche, a worthy widow full of common sense. Her heart still beats for France, but she is poor, the young instructor appears thoroughly respectable, and, after all, they must live. Asmus, who wants to perfect his French, makes himself as agreeable as he can to his landlady’s daughter. He is influenced, conquered, by the polite and dignified ways of these two women; through their influence his views as well as his ways change a great deal more than he realizes himself. He appears so French that his colleagues become suspicious. He goes so far that he dares to blame the harshness and awkwardness of the German masters towards their pupils. He dreams of a new Lorraine where the Teutons would come to perfect their education by intercourse with a more pleasant form of civilization. He forgets his German fiancée and asks for the hand of the young Frenchwoman. Colette hesitates, though she feels a good deal of sympathy for the young man, so anxious to please her and so kindly inclined towards her own people; but he is a German! She has a deeply rooted feeling of what she owes to her forbears, to those who have given their lives in vain for the independence of Lorraine. At the conclusion of a ceremony for soldiers of the war of 1870, these glorious dead inspire the young girl with a full conviction of her duty; she must not marry Asmus. She tells him so, and returns to her sad and colorless life without a regret.
In this book, full of charming descriptions and subtle analysis, we are in real life. Asmus and Colette are neither heroes nor symbols; they are plain everyday people. Asmus lacks delicacy, but he is upright and generous. Barrès has not tried to turn him into ridicule; he is lovable, so the girl loves him. Colette is young, honest, and keen of perception; she is the result, but not the highest product, of centuries of French civilization. There is probably less lyricism in this novel than in any other written by Barrès. Nevertheless, seldom has he shown to better advantage and under a more cleverly diversified style his power of description. We give below a translation of the first pages of the book, a picture of Metz, which is a good example of his descriptive power:—
‘La Colline Inspirée’ (1913) is a true story more or less romanticized. Barrès’ birthplace is not far distant from the spot where the events happened that form the basis of the book, and he most likely had many times heard of the legend. Other data were found in church papers deposited in the Nancy library. The story is of three visionary priests who at the beginning of the nineteenth century aroused a kind of religious mania among some people of that region. They wanted shortly after the Revolution to install a peculiar form of mysticism in Lorraine. Léopold Baillard, “curé” of Flavigny, with the help of his two brothers, also priests, dreamed of erecting wonderful shrines and building up immense monasteries on the hill of Sion-Vaudeémont (La Colline Inspirée). He founded a religious order which at first prospered. But his huge enterprise, financially unsound, caused anxiety to his bishop, who counseled him to be more prudent. Father Baillard, blinded with pride, refused to follow the advice. Soon he fell into debt; the order was disrupted; he was deprived of his title of superior, and relegated to the unimportant parish of Saxon. He refused to obey, and went to Normandy to see a certain Vintras who pretended to be an emanation of the Lord and to perform miracles. The man was a former house-servant, and had been several times convicted of theft, forgery, and embezzlement, but he possessed undoubtedly a great deal of personal magnetism and eloquence. He converted Baillard to his new faith and consecrated him Pontiff and prophet.
Coming back to Lorraine the priest started his new cult with his two brothers, who became pontiffs in their turn, and they gained quite a number of followers. The new creed soon became entirely pagan in form as well as in purport, the ceremonies recalling the ancient saturnalia. The Baillards, first interdicted, then excommunicated, were attacked by the infuriated inhabitants and had to flee. Peace reigned again on the hill. Towards 1857, one after the other, the three brothers came back to their native soil. Baillard, who was married and a traveling salesman for a wine firm, was still living in daily intercourse with the occult. Father Aubry, his former adversary, converted him on his death-bed, but his last prayer was for the soul of Vintras! This strange story is treated by Barrès in his usual poetic manner. At the close of the book we find a dialogue between the meadow and the chapel which is a masterpiece of suggestive prose. The meadow is the spirit of the soil,—ancestors, liberty, inspiration; the chapel represents rule and authority; salvation lies in the union of both, conciliating thus enthusiasm with discipline, the heart with reason.
‘La Grande Pitié des Églises de France’ is a book of polemics. After the separation of Church and State in France, confessional associations had been charged with the upkeep of religious buildings, but the Church rejected the principle of these associations as contrary to canonical rules. The municipalities were not responsible for the maintenance of the old churches, and they could prevent the Catholics from maintaining them. This unfortunate state of affairs permitted the desecration of some monuments and the destruction of a few others. Although an agnostic, Barrès is a poet and an artist and could not remain indifferent. He delivered on this subject in the Chamber of Deputies three speeches which form the bulk of the volume. A number of the French churches are of the highest artistic and historical value. Those classified as “historical monuments” are supervised and protected by the State. The number of the churches in this list is small. Barrès proposed to include all churches built before 1800. In spite of all efforts he failed; the Chamber rejected the draft of law he had proposed. But he succeeded in arousing in the whole country a lively interest not only among the Catholics themselves but also among all those who love art, beauty, and memories of the past. The movement will probably bring about in time some compromise satisfactory both to the government and to the Church.
During the War, Maurice Barrès has published a number of books composed for the most part of newspaper articles. They form a series, ‘L’Âme Française et la Guerre,’ (The French Soul and the War). Their titles are ‘L’Union Sacrée’ (1914), ‘Les Saints de la France’ (1914–1915), ‘La Croix de Guerre,’ and ‘L’Amitié des Tranchèes’ (1915).
This enormous production, and we have omitted quite a number of titles, is far from representing the whole of Barrès’ work, for he is also one of the most prolific journalists in France. He has contributed—and often regularly, publishing one or two articles a week—to Le Voltaire, Le Figaro, La Revue Indépendante, Le Journal, Le Courrier de l’Est, l’Écho de Paris, Le Gaulois, La Patrie, La Revue de Paris, La Revue Bleue, and La Cocarde, which he made famous in 1894–5 when he was political editor and published daily an article in its columns.
This literary activity would have been more than sufficient to fill the life of any man; it was not so for Barrès, who, besides, has had a most strenuous public career. His speeches in the Academy, the Chamber of Deputies, and political meetings have gained for him a well-deserved reputation as orator and debater.
In 1888, to put into practice his theories of ‘L’Homme Libre’ and probably to acquire data for ‘Le Jardin de Bérénice,’ he entered the lists and in 1889 was elected a deputy from Nancy after so savage a fight that on one occasion, at Champenoux, he was seriously wounded and his carriage broken to splinters and set on fire by the mob. He was then so youthful in appearance that frequently people thought he was campaigning for his father and were taken aback when he told them he was himself the candidate. He had joined the party of General Boulanger; that a man as clever as Barrès had chosen such an indifferent leader might surprise. The explanation lies in the fact that he was a Lorrainer, and had never given up the hope of seeing his native province restored to its former condition; Boulanger embodied for him the spirit of Revenge.
Beaten in 1893, Barrès did not abandon his political career. He kept on fostering by all means in his power the ideas of nationalism and regionalism. Elected deputy for Paris in 1906, he has since always been re-elected. In political circles he enjoys a great deal more influence than might be supposed from his opinions; this is due to his prestige as a writer and a thinker, to a proverbial coolness under fire, and a dangerous gift for biting repartee.
Maurice Barrès married Mademoiselle Jougne, daughter of Colonel Jougne, and has a son, Philip, who plays quite an important part in some of his books, notably ‘Les Amitiés Françaises’. He was elected to the Academy in 1906.
A modern French critic whose opinions are a guarantee that he would not unduly praise Barrès said: “Anatole France and Maurice Barrès are nowadays the only two men in French letters worth writing about.” Paul Bourget in his turn thinks that “Of the young men who since 1880 have entered the French literary world, Monsieur Maurice Barrès is certainly the most famous.” The judgment of his fellow authors as well as his influence on a large number of young men of his generation shows clearly the importance of his work. One of the most brilliant of them, Jean de Tinan, said shortly before his untimely death, “Barrès has been our educator, our professor of energy—he has known how to be our master without diminishing in any way our initiative … for that, we shall never be thankful enough.”
As an artist Barrès was at first a Romantic; but of a Romanticism purified from all its inferior characteristics: excessive imagery, doubtful grammar, inaccurate language. He is now a pure classic by the preponderance of the inner life, the concentration of thought, the clearness of expression, the impeccable syntax. He has contributed more than anybody else to the reversion to traditional forms of style and at the same time has assimilated all that there was of real worth and likely to live in impressionism. The tendency toward classicism is more and more noticeable in his work; he himself has said in ‘Le Voyage de Sparte’: “I was mistaken in my manner of interpreting what I admired; I was striving for a certain effect and turned around things until I had obtained it. Now I meet life in a more familiar way; I wish to see it with eyes as simple as the Greek eyes were.” Formerly the most subjective of artists, he tends now to an ever-increasing objectivity.
Barrès has been more or less misunderstood by Anglo-Saxons, and more particularly by Americans. His reasoning is often of too abstract and metaphysical a character to be likely to appeal to nations who are above all practical. Every educated Frenchman is a philosopher and has a fondness for philosophical speculation and a training in it quite uncommon among the reading public of the great Anglo-Saxon nations. For Americans “regionalism,” Barrès most characteristic tenet, is so difficult to appreciate that it is almost impossible to state it in terms which for American readers will not involve a suggestion of absurdity. That a man should be fond or proud of his birthplace is natural enough; that he should be bound to stay there simply because it is his birthplace is to the vast majority of Americans unthinkable. Americans could better understand the supreme importance attached by Barrès to local traditions if he were a devout Catholic; when they learn that he is an agnostic they are at a loss to reconcile what appears to them inconsistency. But it is because Barrès has discarded all Christian faith that he clings to the tradition of the race.
Barrès is himself an example of his own theory in the sense that he is a peculiarly French author, passionately admired in his own country, and little appreciated beyond its limits except by students of French literature and philosophy. For those unfamiliar with the French language and with French habits of thought he is likely to remain practically a closed book, for the charm of his style is of that evanescent quality which is most difficult to carry over in translation. He will retain his place in French letters as a thinker of a most original turn of mind and also as one of the best stylists of the twentieth century.