Among these there can be no doubt of the precedence, in every sense of
the word, of Francois Rabelais (c. 1490-1553), the one French writer (or
with Moliere one of the two) whom critics the least inclined to
appreciate the characteristics of French literature have agreed to place
among the few greatest of the world. With an immense erudition
representing almost the whole of the knowledge of his time, with an
untiring faculty of invention, with the judgment of a philosopher, and
the common sense of a man of the world, with an observation that let no
characteristic of the time pass unobserved, and with a tenfold portion
of the special Gallic gift of good-humoured satire, Rabelais united a
height of speculation and depth of insight and a vein of poetical
imagination rarely found in any writer, but altogether portentous when
taken in conjunction with his other characteristics. His great work has
been taken for an exercise of transcendental philosophy, for a concealed
theological polemic, for an allegorical history of this and that
personage of his time, for a merely literary utterance, for an attempt
to tickle the popular ear and taste. It is all of these, and it is
none--all of them in parts, none of them in deliberate and exclusive
intention. It may perhaps be called the exposition and commentary of all
the thoughts, feelings, aspirations and knowledge of a particular time
and nation put forth in attractive literary form by a man who for once
combined the practical and the literary spirit, the power of knowledge
and the power of expression. The work of Rabelais is the mirror of the
16th century in France, reflecting at once its comeliness and its
uncomeliness, its high aspirations, its voluptuous tastes, its political
and religious dissensions, its keen criticism, its eager appetite and
hasty digestion of learning, its gleams of poetry, and its ferocity of
manners. In Rabelais we can divine the "Pleiade" and Marot, the
_Cymbalum mundi_ and Montaigne, Amyot and the _Amadis_, even Calvin and
Duperron.
Des Periers.
The Heptameron.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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