The London Mercury, Vol. I, Nos. 1-6, November 1919 to April 1920Various
General
The London Mercury, Vol. I, Nos. 1-6, November 1919 to April 1920
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; London (England) -- Periodicals
The true novel of this sort comes into existence under freer and more
fanciful conditions than obtain in the intelligent and tidy, though
somewhat melancholy, manufacture of M. Hermant. A young writer, who
died a score of years ago, Jean de Tinan, produced masterpieces in
_Pense-tu réussir?_ and _Aimienne_, which have not been surpassed.
To-day this type of novel has a right and a left--elegance on the
right and Bohemianism on the left, the latter as a rule being more
picturesque and more highly flavoured. On the right there is what
one might call, using the word in the sense in which it is used by
historians of mediæval literature, a _littérature courtoise_--I mean
a literature of the court with some refinement and some sensuality.
Here the author describes his little amatory adventures, endeavouring
to relieve their inevitable banality with a certain piquancy in the
introduction of portraits of his men and women friends, chosen among
an elegant society. _Les Papiers de Cleonthe_, by M. Jean-Louis
Vaudoyer, and _Le Diable a l'Hôtel_, by M. Emile Henriot, which
have just appeared, though they fall sometimes into banality, make
agreeable reading. On the left there is the little Bohemian novel,
which deals with Montmartre as ancient stories dealt with Miletus. Its
characters are artists and their more or less interesting friends,
young women and their more or less interested friends. The novel of
Montmartre, in which style Charles-Louis Philippe wrote the earliest
masterpieces, is practised to-day in the most agreeable fashion by M.
Francis Cares, author of _Bob et Bobette_, M. Mac-Orlan, author of _La
Clique du Café Brebis_, and M. André Billy, the author of _Scènes de
la Vie Littéraire_. Nevertheless these sometimes shady cabarets, where
boredom is chased away, must not be confused with the higher spheres of
literature.
* * * * *
The French novel, regarded as a whole, is at the present moment going
through a crisis. The qualities of original, free, and vigorous
creation which were the causes of success from Balzac to Maupassant
have become rare. The novel no longer produces those real and living
characters round whom, as Taine said, it is possible to walk. But it is
remarkable for qualities of intelligence.
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