Balzac, Honoré de, 1799-1850; Novelists, French -- 19th century -- Biography
Behold then master Honoré perched near the sky, seated
before his table, and trying to create a work that would
justify the indulgence of his father and disprove the
unfavorable predictions of his friends. It is a remarkable
thing that Balzac debuted with a tragedy, with a Cromwell!
Around that same time, Victor Hugo also put the last
touches on his Cromwell, whose preface became the
manifesto of all young dramatists.
II
In attentively rereading La Comédie Humaine when one has
known Balzac personally, one finds there scattered
curious details with regard to his character and his life,
particularly in his first works, where he has not yet
separated out his own personality, and, due to a lack of
subjects, observes and dissects himself. I have said that
he began his rude apprenticeship for the literary life in a
garret on the Rue Lesdiguières, near the Arsenal. The
novel Facino Cane, published in Paris in March, 1836, and
dedicated to Louise, contains some precious information
regarding the life that this young aspirant for glory led in
his aerial nest.
"I lived then in a street which without doubt you do not
know, the Rue Lesdiguières: it begins at the Rue Saint-Antoine,
opposite a fountain, near the Place de la Bastille,
and leads into the Rue de la Cerisaie. The love of science
had thrown me into an attic where I wrote all night, and I
passed the day in a neighboring library, that of Monsieur;
I lived frugally, I had accepted all of the conditions of the
monastic life, so necessary for laborers. When the
weather was fine, I allowed myself a walk on the
Boulevard Bourbon. One sole passion enticed me from
my studious habits; but wasn't this also studying? I went
to observe the manners of the neighborhood, its
inhabitants and their characters. As ill clad as the
workers, indifferent to decorum, I did not put them on
their guard against me: I could mingle in their groups, see
them conclude their deals, and hear them argue about the
time that they would stop working. For me, observation
had already become intuitive, it penetrated the soul
without neglecting the body; in other words it so
thoroughly grasped exterior that it transcended it
immediately; it gave me the ability to live the life of the
individual on which I was focused and permitted me to
substitute myself for him, like the dervish of the Thousand
and One Nights seized the body and the soul of persons
over whom he pronounced certain words.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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