Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- History and criticism
_Physique de l’Amour; Essai sur l’instinct sexuel_, “qui n’est qu’un
essai, parce que la matière de son idée est immense, représente
pourtant une ambition: on voudrait agrandir la psychologie générale de
l’amour, la faire commencer au commencement même de l’activité mâle
et femelle, situer la vie sexuelle de l’homme dans le plan unique de
la sexualité universelle.” It is a book full of illustration, a vast
collection of facts, and throws into another fermenting vat than that
of language some sufficiently valuable ideas. It lessens the pride
of man, and, at the same time, gives him a desperate courage, as it
shows him that even in the eccentricities of his love-making he is not
alone, that the modesty of his women is a faint hesitation beside the
terrified flight of the she-mole, that his own superiority is but an
accident, and that he must hold himself fortunate in that nature does
not treat him like the male bee, and toss his mangled body disdainfully
to earth as soon as he has done her work. M. de Gourmont’s books do not
flatter humanity. They clear the eyes of the strong, and anger the weak
who cannot bear to listen to unpalatable truths.
V
M. de Gourmont’s most obvious quality is versatility, and though, as I
have tried to point out, it is not difficult to find a unity of cause
or intention in his most various expressions, his lofty and careless
pursuit of his inclinations, his life of thought for its own sake, has
probably cost him a wide and immediate recognition. That loss is not
his, but is borne by those who depend for their reading on the names
that float upward from the crowd. Even his admirers complain: some
that he has not given them more poems; others that his _Physique de
l’Amour_ stands alone on its shelf; others that a critic such as he
should have spent time on romances; others, again, that a writer of
such romances should have used any of his magnificent power in what
they cannot see to be creative work. M. de Gourmont is indifferent to
all alike, and sits aloft in the Rue des Saints-Pères, indulging his
mind with free and harmonious play.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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