emile zola-第3节

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those　respects　where　without　them　it　could　not　be　justified。　　The

question　of　immorality　has　been　set　aside；　and　the　indecency　has

been　admitted；　but　it　remains　for　us　to　realize　that　anxiety　for

sincerity　and　truth；　springing　from　the　sense　of　pity　and

justice；　makes　indecency　a　condition　of　portraying　human　nature

so　that　it　may　look　upon　its　image　and　be　ashamed。



The　moralist　working　imaginatively　has　always　had　to　ask　himself

how　far　he　might　go　in　illustration　of　his　thesis；　and　he　has　not

hesitated；　or　if　he　has　hesitated；　he　has　not　failed　to　go　far

very　far。　　Defoe　went　far；　Richardson　went　far；　Ibsen　has　gone

far；　Tolstoy　has　gone　far；　and　if　Zola　went　farther　than　any　of

these；　still　he　did　not　go　so　far　as　the　immoralists　have　gone　in

the　portrayal　of　vicious　things　to　allure　where　he　wished　to

repel。　　There　is　really　such　a　thing　as　high　motive　and　such　a

thing　as　low　motive；　though　the　processes　are　often　so

bewilderingly　alike　in　both　cases。　　The　processes　may　confound

us；　but　there　is　no　reason　why　we　should　be　mistaken　as　to

motive；　and　as　to　Zola's　motive　I　do　not　think　M。　Chaumie　was

mistaken。　　As　to　his　methods；　they　by　no　means　always　reflected

his　intentions。　　He　fancied　himself　working　like　a　scientist　who

has　collected　a　vast　number　of　specimens；　and　is　deducing

principles　from　them。　　But　the　fact　is；　he　was　always　working

like　an　artist；　seizing　every　suggestion　of　experience　and

observation；　turning　it　to　the　utmost　account；　piecing　it　out　by

his　invention；　building　it　up　into　a　structure　of　fiction　where

its　origin　was　lost　to　all　but　himself；　and　often　even　to

himself。　　He　supposed　that　he　was　recording　and　classifying；　but

he　was　creating　and　vivifying。　　Within　the　bounds　of　his　epical

scheme；　which　was　always　factitious；　every　person　was　so　natural

that　his　characters　seemed　like　the　characters　of　biography

rather　than　of　fiction。　　One　does　not　remember　them　as　one

remembers　the　characters　of　most　novelists。　　They　had　their　being

in　a　design　which　was　meant　to　represent　a　state　of　things；　to

enforce　an　opinion　of　certain　conditions；　but　they　themselves

were　free　agencies；　bound　by　no　allegiance　to　the　general　frame；

and　not　apparently　acting　in　behalf　of　the　author；　but　only　from

their　own　individuality。　　At　the　moment　of　reading；　they　make　the

impression　of　an　intense　reality；　and　they　remain　real；　but　one

recalls　them　as　one　recalls　the　people　read　of　in　last　weeks's　or

last　year's　newspaper。　　What　Zola　did　was　less　to　import　science

and　its　methods　into　the　region　of　fiction；　than　journalism　and

its　methods；　but　in　this　he　had　his　will　only　so　far　as　his

nature　of　artist　would　allow。　　He　was　no　more　a　journalist　than

he　was　a　scientist　by　nature；　and；　in　spite　of　his　intentions　and

in　spite　of　his　methods；　he　was　essentially　imaginative　and

involuntarily　creative。　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　



VI　



To　me　his　literary　history　is　very　pathetic。　　He　was　bred　if　not

born　in　the　worship　of　the　romantic；　but　his　native　faith　was　not

proof　against　his　reason；　as　again　his　reason　was　not　proof

against　his　native　faith。　　He　preached　a　crusade　against

romanticism；　and　fought　a　long　fight　with　it；　only　to　realize　at

last　that　he　was　himself　too　romanticistic　to　succeed　against　it；

and　heroically　to　own　his　defeat。　　The　hosts　of　romanticism

swarmed　back　over　him　and　his　followers；　and　prevailed；　as　we　see

them　still　prevailing。　　It　was　the　error　of　the　realists　whom

Zola　led；　to　suppose　that　people　like　truth　in　fiction　better

than　falsehood；　they　do　not；　they　like　falsehood　best；　and　if

Zola　had　not　been　at　heart　a　romanticist；　he　never　would　have

cherished　his　long　delusion；　he　never　could　have　deceived　with

his　vain　hopes　those　whom　he　persuaded　to　be　realistic；　as　he

himself　did　not　succeed　in　being。



He　wished　to　be　a　sort　of　historiographer　writing　the　annals　of　a

family；　and　painting　a　period；　but　he　was　a　poet；　doing　far　more

than　this；　and　contributing　to　creative　literature　as　great　works

of　fiction　as　have　been　written　in　the　epic　form。　　He　was　a

paradox　on　every　side　but　one；　and　that　was　the　human　side；　which

he　would　himself　have　held　far　worthier　than　the　literary　side。　

On　the　human　side；　the　civic　side；　he　was　what　he　wished　to　be；

and　not　what　any　perversity　of　his　elements　made　him。　　He　heard

one　of　those　calls　to　supreme　duty；　which　from　time　to　time

select　one　man　and　not　another　for　the　response　which　they

require；　and　he　rose　to　that　duty　with　a　grandeur　which　had　all

the　simplicity　possible　to　a　man　of　French　civilization。　　We　may

think　that　there　was　something　a　little　too　dramatic　in　the

manner　of　his　heroism；　his　martyry；　and　we　may　smile　at　certain

turns　of　rhetoric　in　the　immortal　letter　accusing　the　French

nation　of　intolerable　wrong；　just　as；　in　our　smug　Anglo…Saxon

conceit；　we　laughed　at　the　procedure　of　the　emotional　courts

which　he　compelled　to　take　cognizance　of　the　immense　misdeed

other　courts　had　as　emotionally　committed。　　But　the　event；

however　indirectly　and　involuntarily；　was　justice　which　no　other

people　in　Europe　would　have　done；　and　perhaps　not　any　people　of

this　more　enlightened　continent。



The　success　of　Zola　as　a　literary　man　has　its　imperfections；　its

phases　of　defeat；　but　his　success　as　a　humanist　is　without　flaw。　

He　triumphed　as　wholly　and　as　finally　as　it　has　ever　been　given　a

man　to　triumph；　and　he　made　France　triumph　with　him。　　By　his

hand；　she　added　to　the　laurels　she　had　won　in　the　war　of　American

Independence；　in　the　wars　of　the　Revolution　for　liberty　and

equality；　in　the　campaigns　for　Italian　Unity；　the　imperishable

leaf　of　a　national　acknowledgement　of　national　error。

　　







End