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Est-ce paradoxal? Voyez Kipling. Et je la respecte. Pour ma part, je ne ressens nullement cette lourdeur dont vous parlez. Rien ne bougeait encore au front des palais. Peut-on rire de tout? Quelques fragments sans le sourire pour JC, Zeus et cie….

France’s carceral archipelago

Pour M. Imparfait, plus que parfait. Le flux tendu, hein. A la fois ici et nulle part. Alors, le nulle part exige ses droits pour devenir un quelque part -je peux le comprendre- et transformer le quelque part en un nouveau nulle part.


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Un sonnet. Pas de ponctuation. Juste un temps tragique, une errance sur le long chemin obscur de la vie.


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The limitation of Romains' work, as of a deal of Browning's, is that, having once understood it, one may not need or care to re-read it. This restriction applies also in a wholly different way to "Endymion"; having once filled the mind with Keats' color, or the beauty of things described, one gets no new thrill from the re-reading of them in not very well-written verse.

This limitation applies to all poetry that is not implicit in its own medium, that is, which is not indissolubly bound in with the actual words, word music, the fineness and firmness of the actual writing, as in Villon, or in "Collis O Heliconii. But one can not leave Romains unread. His interest is more than a prose interest, he has verse technique, rhyme, terminal syzygy, but that is not what I mean. He is poetry in:. The point is that they are followed by exposition, to which they form a necessary introduction, defining Romains' angle of attack; and as a result the force of Romains is cumulative.

His early books gather meaning as one reads through the later ones. And I think if one opens him almost anywhere one can discern the authentic accent of a man saying something, not the desultory impagination of rehash.

Ethical Issues in Twentieth-Century French Fiction | SpringerLink

Charles Vildrac is an interesting companion figure to his brilliant friend Romains. He conserves himself, he is never carried away by Romains' theories. He admires, differs, and occasionally formulates a corrective or corollary as in "Gloire. Compare this poem with Romains' "Ode to the Crowd Here Present" and you get the two angles of vision. Henry Spiess, a Genevan lawyer, has written an interesting series of sketches of the court-room. He is a more or less isolated figure.

I do not think the book is available to the public. Fletcher once lent me a copy, but the edition was limited and the work seems rather unknown. Romains is my chief concern. I can not give a full exposition of Unanimism on a page or two. Among all the younger writers and groups in Paris, the group centering in Romains is the only one which seems to me to have an energy comparable to that of the Blast group in London, [3] the only group in which the writers for Blast can be expected to take very much interest.

Romains in the flesh does not seem so energetic as Lewis in the flesh, but then I have seen Romains only once and I am well acquainted with Lewis. Romains is, in his writing, more placid, the thought seems more passive, less impetuous. As for those who will not have Lewis "at any price," there remains to them no other course than the acceptance of Romains, for these two men hold the two tenable, positions: the Mountain and the Multitude. It might be fairer to Romains to say simply he has chosen, or specialized in, the collected multitude as a subject matter, and that he is quite well on a mountain of his own.

My general conclusions, redoing and reviewing this period of French poetry, are after my paw-over of some sixty new volumes as mentioned, and after re-reading most of what I had read before :. As stated in my opening, that mediocre poetry is about the same in all countries; that France has as much drivel, gas, mush, etc. That it is impossible "to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," or poetry out of nothing; that all attempts to "expand" a subject into poetry are futile, fundamentally; that the subject matter must be coterminous with the expression.

Tasso, Spenser, Ariosto, prose poems, diffuse forms of all sorts are all a preciosity; a parlor-game, and dilutations go to the scrap heap. In the same way people are ignorant of the qualities of French people; ignorant that if they do not feel at home in Amiens as I do not , there are other places in France; in the Charente if you walk across country you meet people exactly like the nicest people you can meet in the American country and they are not "foreign.

All France is not to be found in Paris.

Honoré de BALZAC - La Comédie Humaine 1 - Scènes de la vie privée, Chap.1-30, SOUS-TITRES

The adjective "French" is current in America with a dozen erroneous or stupid connotations. Burton of the "Anatomy" is our only writer who can match him. From this delicacy, if they can not be doing with it, they may turn easily to Villon or Basselin.

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Only a general distaste for literature can be operative against all of these writers. I let him speak for himself:. We admit the life of entities greater than our own bodies. Society is not merely an arithmetical total, or a collective designation.

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We even credit the existence of groups intermediate between the individual and the state. But these opinions are put forth by abstract deduction or by experimentation of reason.

If they do not follow a serious study of social data, they are at least the most meritorious results of observations; they justify the method, and uphold the laws of a science which struggles manfully to be scientific. Man did not wait for physiology to give him a notion of his body, in which lack of patience he was intelligent, for physiology has given him but analytic and exterior information concerning things he had long known from within.

He had been conscious of his organs long before he had specified their modes of activity.

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As spirals of smoke from village chimneys, the profound senses of each organ had mounted toward him; joy, sorrow, all the emotions are deeds more fully of consciousness than are the thoughts of man's reason. Reason makes a concept of man, but the heart perceives the flesh of his body. And it is by no means sure that the rhythms will make their nodes in us, if we be not the centres of groups.

We have but to become such. Dig deep enough in our being, emptying it of individual reveries, dig enough little canals so that the souls of the groups will flow of necessity into us. Various groups have come here into consciousness. They are still rudimentary, and their spirit is but a perfume in the air. People will think it superfluous that I should unravel such shreds in place of re-carding once more the enormous heap of the individual soul.

Future groups will perhaps deserve less affection, and we shall conceal the basis of things more effectively. Now the incomplete and unstable contours have not yet learned to stifle any tendency any inclination. Every impact sets them floating. They do not coat the infantile matter with a hard or impacting envelope. A superior plant has realized but few of the possibilities swarming in fructificatory mould.

A mushroom leads one more directly to the essential life quality than do the complexities of the oak tree. Thus we have the considerable happiness of watching the commencement of reign, the beginning of an organic series which will last as did others, for a thousand ages, before the cooling of the earth. This is not a progression, it is a creation, the first leap-out of a different series.

Groups will not continue the activities of animals, nor of men; they will start things afresh according to their own need, and as the consciousness of their substance increases they will refashion the image of the world. Our ideas of the being will undergo a correction; will hesitate rather more in finding a distinction between the existent and non-existent. In passing successively from the Place de l'Europe to the Place des Vosges, and then to a gang of navvies, one perceives that there are numerous shades of difference between nothing and something.

Before resorting to groups one is sure of discerning a being of a simple idea.