Portrait of Signora Morrocchi by Antonio Puccinelli, 1859 AKG Images / De Agostini Picture Lib./G.Nimatallah
November 13, 1872. In his study, alone with the greyhound that a friend gave him, Gustave can "
spit [his] bile
" at leisure.
Julio listens to him without impatience.
All his friends, at least those who remain to him, are tired of his vociferations against the century.
Only the "
Moscove
", as Flaubert calls the writer Ivan Turgenev, still tries to calm him down by assuring him that what he suffers from is less from the present tense than from the "
taedium vitae
" which occurs with his fiftieth.
This is precisely the age of Gustavus.
But Flaubert, shrugging his shoulders, perseveres in his imprecations, more and more often signing his letters "
Polycarpe
"From the name of this bishop of Smyrna who was the disciple of the apostle John and who often lamented:"
In what a century, my God!
Did you give birth to me!
"
To read also: Michel De Jaeghere: "Madame Bovary, c'est nous"
Rage seized Flaubert after the defeat of Sedan, the establishment of the Republic and the insurrection of the Commune.
Seized with despair, he rages against everything and everyone.
George Sand admits to having "
his head split into four
" when his old troubadour does not stop cursing universal suffrage, "
this aberration
".
Nothing finds favor in his eyes and he never ceases to affirm that never again "
the hatred of all grandeur, the disdain of Beauty, the loathing of literature, in short, has been so manifest
".
As an example, he cites to Turgenev a circular containing a reform of public education in which the paragraph on bodily exercises is longer than that on French literature.
Flaubert stretched out on his old couch.
Julio immediately came to rest his head on his knees.
He strokes her nose and chants in his mustache: “
My poor Julio, we are very alone in a century where stupidity overwhelms everything.
I feel the same sadness that the Roman patricians had in the 4th century.
I too feel an irreparable barbarism rising.
And that good Turgenev who talks to me about my fiftieth birthday!
In truth, age has nothing to do with my anger.
It's stupidity, the enormous stupidity of the century that is killing me!
"
Flaubert suddenly you because he thinks about Gautier.
This nice fellow died “
of disgust with 'modern carrion'
”.
Shortly before his disappearance, Gustave's mother had fallen asleep forever.
It was April 6, 1872. He was shattered, realizing that he had just lost the person he had loved the most in his life.
For days and days he was irritated to see the sun shine and the leaves green.
But little by little he resumed his work, completed the Saint Anthony he had worn for twenty-four years, and laid the foundations for a new novel in which he intends to vent his anger.
He has already devised a general plan, but will have to swallow tons of documents on medicine, philosophy, botany.
He will have to go to Paris more frequently to consult books at the Arsenal library.
“Until February 1873, Flaubert continued to exhaust all his relatives with his fury.
But in March, without understanding why himself, the horizon suddenly clears up and he regains his energy and enthusiasm.
"
Irina de Chikoff
He hopes to see Moscove more often in the capital.
He always provides good advice and still enjoys talking about literature with him.
Its only flaw is its unpredictability.
Turgenev can cancel a dinner at the last minute, promise to come to Croisset, but leave suddenly for Baden-Baden or Moscow.
From Russia, Ivan often sends him caviar.
What a delight !
Flaubert eats it Russian style, with a spoon.
These are moments of grace during which he ceases to plague the whole earth.
Besides, with his
idiotic
"
two fellows
" whose absurd initiatives, maxims, protests, he has undertaken to tell, he won't have much time.
And the funniest thing is that George Sand chose this moment to advise him to take a wife!
Doesn't she know that the woman has never been "
fitted into [her] existence
"?
A spouse !
Permanently installed in Croisset!
“
My God, my God!
My poor Julio, we would miss him more than that!
"
Read also: Gustave Flaubert, the fury to write: discovering Carthage
Until February 1873, Flaubert continued to exhaust all his relatives with his fury. But in March, without understanding why himself, the horizon suddenly clears up and he regains his energy and enthusiasm. He is no longer Saint Polycarp, but one of the characters he had once invented, the Reverend Father Cruchard of the Barnabites, director of the Ladies of Disillusion, first theologian and first fork of the kingdom on which he had written a memoir. He had sent it to George Sand. He now signs his letters to his "
dear master
" "
your old Cruchard
".
This article is from the
Figaro Hors-Série: Flaubert, la feur d'être
. Discover Flaubert's eventful life, his friendships, his work, his characters, his quest for the perfect style on
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.
Portrait of Signora Morrocchi by Antonio Puccinelli, 1859 AKG Images / De Agostini Picture Lib./G.Nimatallah