However, he was at first much pleased with Madame Bechet, who, with unexpected liberality, herself paid 4000 francs for corrections; and in July, 1834, he got rid of publisher Gosselin, whom he politely designates as a “nightmare of silliness,” and a “rost-beaf ambulant,” and started business with Werdet, not yet the “vulture who fed on Prometheus,” but an excellent young man, somewhat resembling “l’illustre Gaudissart,” full of devotion and energy.
The year 1833 was rich in masterpieces. In September appeared “Le Medecin de Campagne,” with its motto, “For wounded souls, shade and silence”; and though, like “Louis Lambert,” it was not at first a success, later on its true value was realised; and the hero, the good Dr. Benassis, is one of Balzac’s purest and most noble creations. It was followed in December by “Eugenie Grandet,” a masterpiece of Dutch genre, immortalised by the vivid vitality of old Grandet, that type of modern miser who, in contradistinction to Moliere’s Harpagon, enjoyed universal respect and admiration, his fortune being to some people in his province “the object of patriotic pride.” The book raised such a storm of enthusiasm, that Balzac became jealous for the fame of his other works, and would cry indignantly: “Those who call me the father of Eugenie Grandet wish to belittle me. It is a masterpiece, I know; but it is a little masterpiece; they are very careful not to mention the great ones.”[*] This, which is the best known and most generally admired of Balzac’s novels, is dedicated by a strange irony of fate to Maria, whose identity has never been discovered; the only fact really known about her being her pathetic request to Balzac, that he would love her just for a year, and she would love him for all eternity. She did not, however, have undisputed possession of even the short time she longed for, as Madame Hanska’s all-conquering influence was in the ascendant; but, as Balzac was always discreet, perhaps poor Maria was not aware of this.
[*] “Balzac, sa Vie et ses Oeuvres d’apres sa Correspondance,” by
Madame L. Surville.
In the midst of the acclamations and congratulations on the appearance of “Eugenie Grandet,” Balzac again left Paris, and went to Geneva, where he arrived on December 25th, 1833. He left for Paris on February 8th, having spent six weeks with the Hanski family. During this time a definite promise was made by Madame Hanska, that she would marry him if she became a widow. “Adoremus in aeternum” was their motto; he was her humble “moujik,” and she was his “predilecta, his love, his life, his only thought.”[*]
[*] “Lettres a l’Etrangere.”
Curiously enough, his occupation in Geneva, in the rapture of his newly-found happiness, was to write the “Duchesse de Langeais,” by which he intended to revenge himself on Madame de Castries, though he could not help, in his book, making her turn to him at last, when it was too late. The wound was still smarting. He detests and despises her, he says; and the only words of spitefulness recorded in his generous, large-minded life, are when he mentions, with pretended pity, that owing to ill-health she has completely lost her beauty. In spite of this outburst, however, we find that he came forward later on, and helped her with much energy when she was in difficulties. He never had the satisfaction of knowing whether she were punished or not; as when he showed her the book before it was published, with the ostensible reason of wishing her to disarm the Faubourg St. Germain, which is severely criticised in its pages, she professed much admiration for it.
Meanwhile, Madame de Berny was beginning the slow process of dying; and Balzac speaks constantly with trouble of her failing health, and of the heart disease from which she suffered, and which, with her usual unselfishness, she tried to conceal from him. She was too ill now to correct his proofs, and her family circumstances were, as we have already seen, very miserable; so that her life was closing sadly. In January, 1835, Balzac spent eight days with her at La Boulonniere, near Nemours, working hard all the time; and was horrified to find her so ill, that even the pleasure of reading his books brought on severe heart attacks.
His life at this time was enormously busy; the passion for work had him in its grip, and even his robust constitution suffered from the enormous strain to which he subjected it by his constant abuse of coffee, which caused intense nervous irritation; and by the short hours of sleep he allowed himself. He never rested for a moment, he was never indifferent for a moment, his faculties were constantly on the stretch, and Dr. Nacquart remonstrated in vain. In August, 1834, he was attacked by slight congestion of the brain, and imperatively ordered two months’ rest; which, of course, he did not take; and now from time to time, in his letters, occur entries of sinister omen, about symptoms of illness, and doctor’s neglected advice. In October “La Recherche de l’Absolu” appeared, and instead of greeting it with the enthusiasm he usually accorded to his books, he remarked to Madame Hanska that he hoped it was good, but that he was too tired to judge. However, by December of the same year, when “Le Pere Goriot” was published, he had to a certain extent recovered his elasticity, and said that it was a beautiful work, though terribly sad, and showed the moral corruption of Paris like a disgusting wound. A few days later he became more enthusiastic, and wrote: “You will be very proud of ‘Le Pere Goriot.’ My friends insist that nothing is comparable to it, and that it is above all my other compositions.”[*] Certainly the vivid portrait of old Goriot, that ignoble King Lear, who in his extraordinary passion of paternal love rouses our sympathy, in spite of his many absurdities and shortcomings, is a striking instance of Balzac’s power in the creation of type.
[*] “Lettres a l’Etrangere.”
He was straining every nerve to be able to meet Madame Hanska in Vienna; but with all his efforts his journey was put off month after month, and it was not till May 9th, 1835, that he was at last able to start. He arrived at Vienna on the 16th; having hired a post carriage for the journey, a little extravagance which cost him 15,000 francs. His stay there was not a rest, as, to Madame Hanska’s annoyance, he worked twelve hours a day at “Le Lys dans la Vallee,” and explained to her that he was doing a good deal in thus sacrificing three hours a day for her sake — fifteen hours out of the twenty-four being his usual time for labour. He visited Munich on his way back, and arrived in Paris on June 11th, to find a crowd of creditors awaiting his arrival, and his pecuniary affairs in terrible confusion. Owing, he considered, to the machinations of his enemies, articles had appeared in different papers announcing that he had been imprisoned for debt — a report which naturally ruined his credit, and caused a general gathering of those to whom he owed money. It was not a pleasant home-coming; as Werdet and Madame Bechet were in utter despair, and reproached Balzac bitterly for his absence, while all his silver had been pawned by his sister to pay his most pressing liabilities.
It is curious about this time to notice the reappearance of the early romantic novels, “Jane la Pale,” “La Derniere Fee,” and their fellows.[*] Balzac, as we have seen was in terrible straits for money, and he knew that the Belgians, who at this time practised the most shameless piracy, would reprint the books for their own advantage, if he did not. Therefore, in self-defence, he determined to bring out an edition himself; though, as he consistently refused to acknowledge the authorship of these despised productions, the treaty was drawn up in the name of friends. Nevertheless, with his usual caution, he drew up a secret document which was signed by M. Regnault, one of those in whose name the sale to the publisher was arranged, to the effect that the works of the late Horace de Saint-Aubin were really the property of M. de Balzac. “L’Heritiere de Birague” and “Jean Louis” did not appear in this edition, probably owing to the intervention of M. Le Poitevin, who considered them partly his property; but they were published with the others in an edition printed in 1853, after a lawsuit between Balzac’s widow and his early collaborator.
[*] “Une Page Perdue de Honore de Balzac,” by the Vicomte de
Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.
The condition of the whole Balzac family at the close of 1835 was tragic, M. Henri, back from abroad, and utterly inc
apable, as Balzac says, of doing anything, talked of blowing out his brains; Madame Surville was ill, Madame Balzac’s reason or life was despaired of; and Balzac chose this time to consult a somnambulist about Madame Hanska, and was told the distressing news that she was in anxiety of some sort, and that her heart was enlarged! Fortunately, in October, 1835, the Hanski family returned to Wierzchownia, and the constant worry to Balzac of their proximity to France was removed for the time.
In December another misfortune befell Balzac. A fire broke out at the printing office in the Rue du Pot-de-Fer, and burnt the first hundred and sixty pages of the third dizain of the “Contes Drolatiques,” as well as five hundred volumes of the first and second dizain, which had cost him four francs each. He thus lost 3,500 francs, and to add to the calamity, did not receive the sum of 6,000 francs which in the ordinary course of events would have been due to him at the end of the year, when but for this disaster he would have handed over the third dizain to Werdet and an associate.
Figures and sums of money occur constantly in Balzac’s letters; but his accounts of his pecuniary affairs are so conflicting and so complicated that it is impossible to understand them; indeed it is doubtful whether he ever mastered them himself, as he continually expected to be out of debt in a few months. According to his own story to Madame Hanska, he left the printing office owing 100,000 francs, had to find 6,000 francs a year for interest on this debt, and required 3,000 francs to live on; while in 1828, 1829, and 1830, he only made 3,000 francs each year, so that in three years he had increased his debt by 24,000 francs. In 1830 the Revolution caused general disaster among the publishers, and “La Peau de Chagrin” only made 700 francs, so that in 1830 and 1831 Balzac had an income of only 10,000 francs a year, and had to pay out 18,000 francs. From 1833 to 1836 he received 10,000 francs a year by his treaty with Madame Bechet; 6,000 of this he paid in interest on his debt, while 4,000 apparently remained to live on. However, between the fire in the Rue du Pot-de-Fer, Werdet’s delinquencies, the failure of the Chronique, and the sums paid back to publishers who had advanced money on arrangements Balzac cancelled to fulfil this new agreement, hardly anything was left; and in 1837 he owed 162,000 francs.
In August, 1835, he describes his life thus[*]: “Work, always work! Heated nights succeed heated nights, days of meditation days of meditation; from execution to conception, from conception to execution! Little money compared with what I want, much money compared with production. If each of my books were paid like those of Walter Scott, I should manage; but although well paid, I do not attain my goal. I received 8,000 francs for the ‘Lys’; half of this came from the publisher, half from the Revue de Paris. The article in the Conservateur will pay me 3,000 francs. I shall have finished ‘Seraphita,’ begun ‘Les Memoires de Deux Jeunes Mariees,’ and finished Mme. Bechet’s edition. I do not know whether a brain, pen, and hand will ever before have accomplished such a ‘tour de force’ with the help of a bottle of ink.”
[*] “Lettres a l’Etrangere.”
As it is impossible for even a Balzac to live without relaxation, even if he goes without rest, what, may we ask, were his recreations at this time? In the first place he often went to the theatre; and he was passionately fond of music, occupying a place in the box at the Italian Opera, which was reserved specially for dandies. One of his extravagances was a dinner at which he entertained the five other “tigres,” as the occupants of this box were nicknamed, and Rossini, Olympe Pelissier, Nodier, Sandeau, and Bohain. At this banquet, the most sumptuous fare and the most exquisite wines were provided for the guests, and the table was decked with the rarest flowers. Balzac enjoyed the festivity immensely, as well as the eclat which followed it; and relates with delight that all Paris was talking of it, and that Rossini said he had not seen more magnificence when he dined at royal tables.
However busy he was, he never completely deprived himself of the pleasure of listening to music; though on one occasion he remarks regretfully, that he has been obliged to limit his attendance at the Opera to two visits each month; and on another, that he has been so overwhelmed with business that he has not been able even to have a bath, or go to the Italian Opera, two things that are more necessary to him than bread. His works abound in references to his beloved art, and when he was writing “Massimilla Doni” he employed a professional musician to instruct him about it. Beethoven, in particular, he speaks of with the utmost enthusiasm, and after hearing his “Symphony in Ut mineur,” he says that the great musician is the only person who makes him feel jealous, and that he prefers him even to Rossini and Mozart. “The spirit of the writer,” he says, “cannot give such enjoyment, because what we print is finished and determined, whereas Beethoven wafts his audience to the infinite.”[*]
[*] “Lettres a l’Etrangere.”
The other amusements of this great thinker and seer would strike the reader as strange, if he did not perhaps, by this time, realise that no anomaly need surprise him in Balzac’s extraordinary personality.
He writes to Madame Hanska[*]: “As to my joys, they are innocent. They consist in new furniture for my room, a cane which makes all Paris chatter, a divine opera-glass, which my workers have had made by the optician at the Observatory; also the gold buttons on my new coat, buttons chiselled by the hand of a fairy, for the man who carries a cane worthy of Louis XIV. in the nineteenth century cannot wear ignoble pinchbeck buttons. These are little innocent toys, which make me considered a millionaire. I have created the sect of the ‘Cannophiles’ in the world of fashion, and every one thinks me utterly frivolous. This amuses me!” Certainly Balzac was not wrong when he told his correspondent that there was much of the child in him.
[*] “Lettres a l’Etrangere.”
CHAPTER IX
NO PARTICULAR DATE
Balzac’s portrait as described by Gautier — His character — Belief in magnetism and somnambulism — His attempts to become deputy — His political and religious views.
In the Salon of 1837 appeared a portrait of Balzac by Boulanger,[*] of which Theophile Gautier gave the following description in La Presse: “M. de Balzac is not precisely beautiful. His features are irregular; he is fat and short. Here is a summary which does not seem to lend itself to a painting, but this is only the reverse of the medal. The life and ardour reflected in the whole face give it a special beauty.
[*] See the chapter entitled “Un Portrait” in “Autour de Honore de
Balzac,” by the Vicomte de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.
“In this portrait, M. de Balzac, enveloped in the large folds of a monk’s habit, sits with his arms crossed, in a calm and strong attitude; the neck is uncovered, the look firm and direct; the light, shining from above, illumines the satin-like smoothness of the upper parts of the forehead, and throws a bright light on the bumps of imagination and humour, which are strongly developed in M. de Balzac; the black hair, also lit up, shining and radiant, comes from the temples in bright waves, and gives singular light to the top of the head; the eyes steeped in a golden penumbra with tawny eyeballs, on a moist and blue crystalline lens like that of a child, send out a glance of astonishing acuteness; the nose, divided into abrupt polished flat places, breathes strongly and passionately, through large red nostrils; the mouth, large and voluptuous, particularly in the lower lip, smiles with a rabelaisian smile under the shade of a moustache much lighter in colour than the hair; and the chin, slightly raised, is attached to the throat by a fold of flesh, ample and strong, which resembles the dewlap of a young bull. The throat itself is of athletic and rare strength, the plump full cheeks are touched with the vermilion of nervous health, and all the flesh tints are resplendent with the most joyful and reassuring brilliancy.
“In this monk’s and soldier’s head there is a mixture of reflection and of good-humour, of resolution and of high spirits, which is infinitely rare; the thinker and good liver melt into each other with quaint harmony. Put a cuirass on this large breast, and you will have one of those fat German foot-soldiers so jo
vially painted by Terburg. With the monks’ habit, it is Jean des Entommeurs[*]; nevertheless, do not forget that the eyes throw, through all this embonpoint and good-humour, the yellow look of a lion to counteract this Flemish familiarity. Such a man would be equal to excesses of the table, of pleasure, and of work. We are no longer astonished at the immense quantity of volumes published by him in so short a time. This prodigious labour has left no trace of fatigue on the strong cheeks dappled with red, and on the large white forehead. The enormous work which would have crushed six ordinary authors under its weight is hardly the third of the monument he wishes to raise.”
[*] One of the characters in Rabelais.
The original of this portrait was sent to Madame Hanska at Wierzchownia; but a sketch of it belongs to M. Alexandre Dumas the younger, and has often been engraved. From this, it seems as though Theophile Gautier must have read his knowledge of Balzac’s character as a whole into his interpretation of the picture. To the ordinary observer, Boulanger’s portrait represents Balzac as the thinker, worker, and fighter, stern and strenuous; not the delightful comrade who inspired joy and merriment, and the recollection of whom made Heine smile on his death-bed. The wonderful eyes which had not their equal, and which asked questions like a doctor or a priest, are brilliantly portrayed. Balzac himself allows this, though he complains to Madame Hanska that they have more of the psychological expression of the worker than of the loving soul of the individual — a fact for which we may be grateful to Boulanger. Balzac is much delighted, however, with Boulanger’s portrayal of the insistence and intrepid faith in the future, a la Coligny or a la Peter the Great, which are at the base of his character; and he goes on to give an attractive, though rather picturesque account of his career and past misfortunes, which is evidently intended to counteract any misgivings Madame Hanska may feel at his sternness as depicted in the portrait.
Works of Honore De Balzac Page 1476