Anatole France - biography, information, personal life. Gilenson B.A.: History of foreign literature of the late XIX - early XX centuries

K. Dolinin.
ANATOL FRANCE (1844-1924)

"GOLDEN POEMS" and "SKINNY CAT"

Frans was born in a bookstore. His father, Francois Noel Thibaut, was not a hereditary intellectual: he learned to read when he was already over twenty. In his early youth, Thibault was a servant on a farm; at the age of 32, he became a clerk at a bookseller, and then founded his own company: “Political Publishing and Bookselling Frans Thibaut” (France is a diminutive of Francois). Five years later, on April 16, 1844, the desired (and only) heir was born, the future successor of his father's work. Sent to be raised at the Catholic College of St. Stanislav, Anatole begins to show bad inclinations: “lazy, careless, frivolous” - this is how his mentors characterize him; in the sixth (according to the French countdown) class, he remains in the second year and finishes his secondary education with a brilliant failure in the final exam - this was in 1862.

On the other hand, an immoderate passion for reading, as well as everyday communication with visitors to his father's shop, writers and bibliophiles, also does not contribute to the cultivation of modesty and piety, befitting a future book publisher and bookseller. Among the regular visitors there are people whose views the God-fearing and well-meaning M. Thibaut, with all his respect for learning and erudition, cannot in any way approve. What is Anatole reading? He has his own library; it has the most history books; many Greeks and Romans: Homer, Virgil... Of the new ones - Alfred de Vigny, Lecomte de Lisle, Ernest Renan. And the completely unexpected "Origin of Species" by Darwin, which he read at that time. No less influential was Renan's Life of Jesus. Apparently, it was during these years that Anatole France-Thibault finally lost faith in God.

After his failure in the exam, Anatole does minor bibliographic work on behalf of his father, dreaming at the same time of a big literary career. He fills mountains of paper with rhyming and non-rhyming lines; almost all of them are devoted to Eliza Devoyo, a dramatic actress, the subject of his first - and unhappy - love. In 1865 ambitious plans son come into open conflict with the bourgeois dream of his father: to make Anatole his successor. As a result of this collision, the father sells the company, and the son, after some time, leaves his father's house. Literary day labor begins; he collaborates in many small literary and bibliographic publications; writes reviews, reviews, notes and from time to time publishes his poems - sonorous, tightly put together ... and of little originality: “The Daughter of Cain”, “Denis, the Tyrant of Syracuse”, “The Legions of Varr”, “The Tale of Saint Thais, the comedian” and etc. - all these are student works, variations on the themes of Vigny, Leconte de Lisle and partly even Hugo.

Thanks to his father's old connections, he was taken in by Alphonse Lemerre, a publisher, and there he met the Parnassians, a group of poets united around an almanac called Modern Parnassus. Among them are the venerable Gauthier, Banville, Baudelaire, the young but promising Heredia, Coppé, Sully-Prudhomme, Verlaine, Mallarme. .. The supreme leader and inspirer of the Parnassian youth was the gray-haired Lecomte de Lisle. Despite all the heterogeneity of poetic talents, there were still some general principles. There was, for example, a cult of clarity and form as opposed to romantic liberties; no less important was the principle of impassivity, objectivity, also in contrast to the overly frank lyricism of the romantics. In this company, Anatole France clearly came to court; published in the next "Parnassus" "Magdalene's Share" and "Dance of the Dead" make him a full member of the circle.

However, this collection, prepared and even, apparently, typed in 1869, saw the light only in 1871; during these one and a half years the war began and ended ingloriously, the Second Empire fell, the Paris Commune was proclaimed and crushed two months later. Only four years earlier, Anatole France, in The Legions of Varra, had uttered vague threats to the regime—the poem had been published in the Republican Gazette; back in 1968, he was going to publish the "Encyclopedia of the Revolution" with the participation of Michelet and Louis Blanc; and at the beginning of June 1971, he writes to one of his friends: “Finally, this government of crimes and madness is rotting in a moat. Paris hoisted tricolor banners on the ruins. His "philosophical humanism" was not even enough to approach the events without prejudice, not to mention correctly assess them. True, other writers were also not up to par - only Hugo raised his voice in defense of the defeated Communards.

In the fresh wake of events, Anatole France writes his first novel, The Desires of Jean Servien, which will be published only ten years later, in 1882, and thoroughly revised. In the meantime, his literary activity continues within the framework of Parnassus. In 1873, Lemerre published his collection entitled "Golden Poems", sustained in the best Parnassian traditions.

Not yet thirty years old, Frans is promoted to the forefront of modern poetry. He is patronized and reckoned with by Lecomte himself; in 1875, he, France, together with Koppe and the venerable Banville, decides who is allowed and who is not allowed into the third Parnassus (by the way, they were not allowed no more than no less ... Verlaine and Mallarme - and that’s all, as they say, at the initiative of Frans!). Anatole himself gives in this collection the first part of the "Corinthian wedding" - his best poetic work, which will be published as a separate book next year, 1876.

"The Corinthian Wedding" is a dramatic poem based on a plot used by Goethe in "The Corinthian Bride". The action takes place during the time of Emperor Constantine. A certain mother of the family, a Christian, falls ill and vows, in case of recovery, to dedicate her only daughter, previously betrothed to a young shepherd, to God. The mother recovers, and the daughter, unable to give up her love, drinks the poison.

More recently, during the period of the Golden Poems, Frans professed the theory that content, thought are indifferent to art, since nothing is new in the world of ideas; the poet's only task is to create the perfect form. The "Corinthian wedding", despite all the outward "beauties", could no longer serve as an illustration of this theory. The main thing here is not just a melancholic resurrection of ancient beauty and harmony, but a conflict of two attitudes: pagan and Christian, an unambiguous condemnation of Christian asceticism.

France did not write more poetry. When asked about the reasons that prompted him to leave poetry, he answered as briefly as cryptically: "I lost the rhythm."

In April 1877, the thirty-three-year-old writer married Valerie Guerin, a woman who was destined to become, after a decade and a half, the prototype of Madame Bergeret from Modern History. A short Honeymoon- and again literary work: prefaces to editions of the classics for Lemerre, articles and reviews in literary journals. In 1878, "Tan" publishes with continuations, from issue to issue, the story of Anatole France "Jocasta". In the same year, Jocasta, together with the story The Skinny Cat, was published as a separate book, but not by Lemerre, but by Levi, after which the touching-patriarchal relationship between the author of The Corinthian Wedding and the publisher, who did not pay him a single franc for it , begin to deteriorate; this would subsequently lead to a break and even a lawsuit, which Lemerre started in 1911 and lost.

"Jocasta" is a very literary (in the bad sense of the word) thing. Far-fetched melodramatic intrigue, stamped characters (which is worth, for example, the father of the heroine, a traditional literary southerner, or her husband - no less traditional eccentric Englishman) - here nothing seems to portend the future of France. Perhaps the most curious figure in the story is Dr. Longmar, the subject of the first and the only love heroines, a kind of French Bazarov: a mocker, a nihilist, a frog ripper, and at the same time a pure, shy soul, a sentimental knight.

“Your first story is an excellent thing, but I dare to call the second a masterpiece,” Flaubert wrote to France. Of course, masterpiece is too strong a word, but if the weak "Jocasta" is considered an excellent thing, then the second story, "Skinny Cat", is really a masterpiece. "Skinny Cat" is the name of a tavern in the Latin Quarter, where colorful eccentrics gather - the heroes of the story: artists, aspiring poets, unrecognized philosophers. One of them drapes himself in a horse blanket and comments on the ancients with charcoal on the wall of the workshop, in which he spends the night by the grace of its owner, the artist; the latter, however, does not write anything, since, in his opinion, in order to write a cat, one must read everything that has ever been said about cats. The third - an unrecognized poet, a follower of Baudelaire - starts publishing a magazine every time he manages to get a hundred or two from a compassionate grandmother. And among this generally harmless humor - elements of sharp political satire: the figure of a Tahitian statesman, a former imperial prosecutor who became chairman of a commission to perpetuate the memory of the victims of tyranny, many of whom "the former imperial prosecutor was really obliged to erect a monument."

SEARCH FOR THE HERO

France first found his hero in The Crime of Sylvester Bonnard. The novel was published as separate short stories in various magazines from December 1879 to January 1881, and in April 1881 it was published in its entirety. Always, at all times, youth attracted the attention of most novelists. Frans found himself in the attitude of an old man, wise in life and books, or rather, life in books. He was then thirty-seven years old.

Sylvester Bonnard is the first incarnation of this wise old man who, one way or another, passes through all the work of Frans, who, in essence, is Frans, not only in the literary, but also in the everyday sense: he will be like that, he will make himself like that in the image and likeness his hero, so he will remain in the memory of later contemporaries - a gray-haired master, a mocking aesthetic philosopher, a kind skeptic, looking at the world from the heights of his wisdom and erudition, condescending to people, merciless to their delusions and prejudices.

This France starts with Sylvester Bonnard. It begins very timidly and rather paradoxically: as if this is not the beginning, but the end. "The Crime of Sylvester Bonnard" is a book about overcoming bookish wisdom and condemning it as dry and barren wisdom. Once upon a time there was an old eccentric in the world, a paleographer, a humanist and an erudite, for whom the easiest and exciting reading were catalogs of old manuscripts. He had a housekeeper Teresa, virtuous and sharp-tongued - the embodiment common sense, which he deeply feared, and there was also the cat Hamilcar, before whom he made speeches in the spirit of the best traditions of classical rhetoric. Once, descending from the heights of erudition to the sinful earth, he did a good deed - he helped the family of a poor peddler who huddled in the attic, for which he was rewarded a hundredfold: the widow of this peddler, who became a Russian princess, presented him with a precious manuscript of the Golden Legend, about which he dreamed for six years in a row. “Bonnard,” he says to himself at the end of the first part of the novel, “you know how to parse old manuscripts, but you can’t read in the book of life.”

In the second part, which is essentially a separate novel, the old scientist directly intervenes in practical life, trying to protect the granddaughter of the woman he once loved from the encroachments of a guardian predator. He sells the library to ensure a happy future for his young pupil, gives up paleography and becomes ... a naturalist.

Thus, Sylvester Bonnard comes from the fruitless wisdom of books to living life. But there is one significant contradiction here. It is not so fruitless, this bookish wisdom: after all, thanks to her and only her, Sylvester Bonnard is free from social prejudices. He thinks philosophically, elevating facts to general categories, and that is why he is able to perceive the simple truth without distortion, to see the hungry and destitute in the hungry and destitute, and the scoundrel in the scoundrel and, without being hindered by considerations of the social order, simply feed and warm the first and try to neutralize second. This is the key to further development of the image.

The success of "Sylvester Bonnard" exceeded all expectations - precisely because of its harmlessness and dissimilarity to the naturalistic novel that made the weather in French prose in those days. It is interesting that the overall result is the spirit of gracious tenderness before the living, natural life- outweighed in the eyes of the "refined" public the elements of sharp social satire in the image negative characters novel.

So, one of the most important qualities of this hero is his detachment from society, disinterest, impartiality of judgment (like Voltaire's Simpleton). But from this point of view, the wise old man-philosopher is equal to another, also very common character in Anatole France's work - a child. And it is no coincidence that the child appears immediately after the elder: the collection “The Book of My Friend” was published in 1885 (many short stories from it had been published before that in magazines).

The hero of My Friend's Book still judges the world of adults very condescendingly, but - and this is an interesting stylistic feature of some short stories in the collection - the story of events and people is told here simultaneously from two points of view: from the point of view of a child and from the point of view of an adult, that is, again wise by books and by the life of a philosopher; moreover, the most naive and ridiculous fantasies of the child are spoken of quite seriously and respectfully; so, for example, the short story, which tells how little Pierre decided to become a hermit, is even slightly stylized as the lives of the saints. By this, the author seems to hint that children's fantasies and completely “adult” ideas about the world are essentially equivalent, since both are equally far from the truth. Looking ahead, we will mention a later story by Frans - "Riquet's Thoughts", where the world appears before the reader in the perception of ... dogs, and dog religion and morality are basically similar Christian religion and morality, since they are equally dictated by ignorance, fear and the instinct of self-preservation.

WORLD CRITICISM

In the words of one French researcher (J. A. Mason), France's work as a whole is a "criticism of the world." The Critique of the World begins with a critique of faith. Much has changed since the Corinthian wedding; the Parnassian poet became a prominent prose writer and journalist: since the mid-80s, he regularly collaborates in two major Parisian newspapers and fearlessly creates judgment on his fellow writers. France becomes an influential person, shines in literary salons and in one of them - in the salon of Madame Armand de Caiave - he plays the role of not only a welcome guest, but in essence the owner. This time, this is not a passing hobby, as evidenced by the divorce that followed a few years later (in 1893) with Mrs. France.

Much has changed, but the attitude of the author of The Corinthian Wedding to Christianity has remained unchanged. The essence remained the same, but the methods of struggle became different. At first glance, the novel "Thais" (1889), as well as most of its contemporary "early Christian" stories (collections "The Mother-of-Pearl Chest" and "Belshazzar"), do not seem to be an anti-religious work. For Frans, there is a peculiar beauty in early Christianity. The sincere and deep faith of the hermit Celestine ("Amicus and Celestine"), as well as the blissful peace of the hermit Palemon ("Thais"), is really beautiful and touching; and the Roman patrician Leta Acilia, exclaiming “I don’t need faith that spoils my hair!”, is really worthy of pity compared to the fiery Mary Magdalene (“Leta Acilia”). But Mary Magdalene, and Celestine, and the hero of the novel Pafnutius themselves do not know what they are doing. Each of the heroes of "Thais" has its own truth; in the novel there is a famous scene - a feast of philosophers, in which the author directly confronts each other with the main philosophical views of the Alexandrian era and thereby takes away from Christianity any halo of exclusivity. Frans himself later wrote that in Thais he wanted to "bring together contradictions, show disagreements, inspire doubts."

However, the main theme of "Tais" is not Christianity in general, but Christian fanaticism and asceticism. There can no longer be any doubts: these ugly manifestations of the Christian spirit are subject to the most unconditional condemnation - France always hated any kind of fanaticism. But the most interesting, perhaps, is an attempt to reveal, so to speak, the natural, physiological and psychological roots of asceticism.

Paphnutius, still in his youth, fled from worldly temptations into the desert and became a monk. “Once ... he went over his former delusions in his memory in order to better comprehend all their vileness, and he remembered that he had once seen a play-girl at the Alexandrian theater, distinguished by striking beauty, whose name was Thais.”

Paphnutius planned to snatch the lost sheep from the abyss of debauchery and for this purpose went to the city. From the very beginning it is clear that Paphnutius is driven by nothing more than a perverted carnal passion. But Thais is bored with the life of a courtesan, she strives for faith and purity; in addition, she notices in herself the first signs of withering and is terribly afraid of death - that is why the overly passionate speeches of the apostle of the crucified god find a response in her; she burns all her property - the scene of sacrifice, when countless and priceless works of art, one of the strongest in the novel, perish in a flame lit by a fanatic's hand - and follows Paphnutius into the desert, where she becomes a novice in the monastery of St. Albina.

Thais is saved, but Paphnutius himself dies, sinking deeper and deeper into the filth of carnal lust. The last part of the novel echoes directly with Flaubert's The Temptation of Saint Anthony; Paphnutius' visions are just as bizarre and varied, but in the center of everything is the image of Thais, embodying for the unfortunate monk a woman in general, earthly love. The novel was a huge success; suffice it to say that the famous composer Masnet wrote the opera “Thais” to a libretto based on the novel by France by the writer Louis Galle, and this opera was successfully performed not only in Paris, but also in Moscow. The church reacted to the novel very painfully; The Jesuit Bruner published two articles specially devoted to the criticism of the Thais, where he accused Frans of obscenity, blasphemy, immorality, etc., etc.

However, the author of "Thais" did not heed the calls of well-intentioned criticism and in the next novel - "The Tavern of Queen Goose Paws" (1892) - again gave vent to his merciless skepticism. From Hellenistic Egypt, the author is transferred to the free-thinking, picturesque and dirty Paris of the 18th century; instead of the gloomy fanatic Paphnutius, the seductive and faith-hungry courtesan Thais, the refined Epicurean Nikias, and the brilliant galaxy of philosophers and theologians in front of us, there are modest visitors to the seedy tavern: the ignorant and dirty monk brother Angel, Katrina the lace-maker and Jeanne the harpist, giving all those who are thirsty their love under canopy of the gazebo of the nearest tavern; the degraded and wise abbot Coignard, the crazy mystic and Kabbalist d "Astarak, the young Jacques Tournebroch, the owner's son, the naive student and chronicler of the venerable abbot. Instead of a drama of temptation, faith and doubt - an adventurous, as they say, picaresque romance with thefts, drinking parties, betrayals, flight and murder, but the essence is the same - criticism of faith.

First of all, this is, of course, criticism of Christianity, and criticism from within. Through the lips of Abbé Coignard, another incarnation of the humanist philosopher, France proves the absurdity and inconsistency of Christian doctrine itself. Every time the humanist Coignard begins to talk about religion, he inevitably comes to absurdity and every time proclaims on this occasion the impotence of the mind to penetrate the mysteries of divine vision and the necessity of blind faith. The arguments with which he proves the existence of God are also curious: “When, finally, darkness enveloped the earth, I took the ladder and climbed into the attic, where the girl was waiting for me,” the abbot tells about one sin of his youth, when he was the secretary of the Bishop of Seez. “My first impulse was to embrace her, my second was to celebrate the chain of circumstances that brought me into her arms. For, judge for yourself, sir: a young clergyman, a dishwasher, a ladder, an armful of hay! What a regularity, what a harmonious order! What a set of pre-established harmony, what an interconnection of causes and effects! What indisputable proof of the existence of God!”

But the most interesting thing is this: the plot of the novel, its dizzying adventurous intrigue, unexpected, chaotic chain of events - all this seems to be invented by Abbé Coignard, all this embodies and illustrates his own reasoning. By chance, the abbot Coignard enters the tavern, by chance, in essence, becomes the mentor of the young Tournebroche, accidentally meets there with d "Astarak who accidentally went there and enters his service; accidentally becomes involved in the dubious intrigue of his student with the lace maker Katrina, as a result of an accidental By coincidence, he breaks the head with a bottle of the general tax farmer, who has Katrina on his payroll, and is forced to flee with his young student Tournebroche, Katrina d'Anquetil's lover and the seduced last lover of Turnebroche, Jahilia, the niece and concubine of the old Mosaid, who, like the abbot himself, in the service of d "Astarak. And finally, the abbot accidentally dies on the Lyons road at the hands of Mozaid, who accidentally jealous of him Yahil. Truly, "what a pattern, what a harmonious order, what a set of pre-established harmony, what an interconnection of causes and effects!"

This is a crazy, absurd world, a chaos in which the results of human actions fundamentally do not correspond to intentions - the old Voltaireian world in which Candide and Zadig toiled and where there is no place for faith, because the feeling of the absurdity of the world is incompatible with faith. Of course, “the ways of the Lord are inscrutable,” as the abbot repeats at every step, but to recognize this means to recognize the absurdity of everything that exists and, first of all, the futility of all our efforts to find a common law, to build a system. From blind faith to complete disbelief is less than one step!

This is the logical outcome of faith in God. Well, what about faith in man, in reason, in science? Alas, we have to admit that here, too, Anatole France is very skeptical. A witness to this is the insane mystic and Kabbalist d "Astarak, comical and at the same time scary in his obsession. He does not take anything for granted; he bravely exposes the absurdities of Christian doctrine and sometimes even expresses very sound natural science ideas (for example, about nutrition and its role in the evolution of mankind). , and the “fruits of enlightenment” - it’s not without reason that faith in occult forces and all kinds of devilry so spread among the contemporaries of Frans himself, people of the “age of positivism”; therefore, one must think, such a d "Astarak appeared in the novel. And this same process - the process of disappointment in science, which, despite all its successes, cannot immediately, immediately reveal to man all the secrets of life - it also gave rise to the skepticism of the author of the Tavern.

This is the main philosophical content of the novel. But this does not mean at all that "The Tavern of Queen Goose Paws" is a simple imitation of "Candide", where the events, the plot serve only as an illustration of the author's philosophical constructions. Of course, the world of Abbé Coignard is a conventional world, a conventional, stylized eighteenth century. But through this conventionality, through the transformed, stylized narration (the story is told from the perspective of Tournebroche), at first timidly, but the further, the more, some unexpected authenticity breaks through. The puppets come to life, and it turns out that the novel is not only a philosophical game, but there is much more. Is love. There are characters.

There are some real details. Finally, there is some very great human truth in the simplicity, everydayness with which dramas are played out: how people drive, how they play piquet, how they drink, how jealous Tournebroch, how a carriage breaks down. And then - death. Real, not theatrical death, written in such a way that you forget about any philosophy. Perhaps, if we talk about traditions, about continuity, then in connection with the "Tavern" we need to remember not only Voltaire, but also Abbé Prevost. It has the same authenticity and the same passion of a human document, breaking through the balanced, orderly manner of the old tale, as in the "History of the Chevalier de Grie and Manon Lescaut"; and as a result, the adventurous, semi-fantastic plot also acquires credibility in spite of its literary implausibility.

However, one cannot get away with talking about traditions here, because “Queen Goose Lasha's Tavern” is not a literary antique, but a deeply modern work. What has been said above about the philosophical side of the novel does not, of course, exhaust its topical, sharply critical content. However, in full, many critical motives, outlined in the "Tavern", sounded in the second book about Coignard, published in the same year. The Judgments of Monsieur Jérôme Coignard is a systematic summary of the views of the venerable abbé on man and society.

If Coignard in the first novel is a comic character, then in the second he stands much closer to the author, and his ideas can be attributed without any stretch to Frans himself. And these ideas are highly explosive; in fact, the whole book is a consistent overthrow of the foundations. Chapter I “Rulers”: “... these illustrious people who allegedly ruled the world were themselves just a miserable toy in the hands of nature and chance; ... in fact, almost indifferently, in one way or another we are governed ... only their clothes and carriages give importance and impressiveness to the ministers. Here we are talking about royal ministers, but the wise abbot is no more lenient towards the republican form of government: “... Demos will have neither the stubborn prudence of Henry IV, nor the graceful inactivity of Louis XIII. Even assuming that he knows what he wants, he still will not know how to carry out his will and whether it can be carried out. He will not be able to command, and he will be poorly obeyed, due to which he will see betrayal in everything ... From all sides, from all the cracks, ambitious mediocrity will crawl out and climb into the first positions in the state, and since honesty is not an innate property of a person ... then hordes of bribe-takers will immediately fall upon the state treasury ”(Chapter VII“ The New Ministry ”).

Coignard consistently attacks the army ("... military service seems to me the most terrible plague of civilized nations"), on justice, morality, science, society, on man in general. And here the problem of revolution cannot but arise: "A government that does not meet the requirements of the most average, ordinary honesty, revolts the people and must be overthrown." However, this statement does not summarize the thought of the abbot, but rather ancient parable: “... But I follow the example of the old woman of Syracuse, who, in those days when Dionysius was more than ever hated by his people, went daily to the temple to pray to the gods for the prolongation of the life of the tyrant. Hearing of such amazing devotion, Dionysius wanted to know what caused it. He called the old woman to him and began to question her.

I have been living in the world for a long time,” she answered, “and I have seen many tyrants in my life and each time I noticed that an even worse one inherits a bad one. You are the most disgusting person I have ever known. From this I conclude that your successor will, if possible, be even more terrible than you; so I pray to the gods not to send him to us as long as possible.

Coignard does not hide his contradictions. His worldview is best analyzed by Frans himself in the preface "From the Publisher": "He was convinced that man by nature is a very evil animal and human societies because they are so bad that people create them according to their inclinations.

“The madness of the Revolution lies in the fact that it wanted to establish virtue. And when people want to be made kind, intelligent, free, moderate, generous, they inevitably come to the conclusion that they are eager to kill them all to the last. Robespierre believed in virtue - and created terror. Marat believed in justice - and demanded two hundred thousand heads.

“... He would never have become a revolutionary. For this, he lacked illusions ... ”At this point, Anatole France will still disagree with Jerome Coignard: the very course of history will lead to the fact that he becomes a revolutionary, without losing, however, at the same time spiritual connection with the Syracusan old woman.

THE PATH TO MODERNITY

In the meantime, he is reaping the fruits of his fame. Together with Madame Armand de Cayave, France makes his first pilgrimage to Italy; the result of it was a book of short stories "The Well of St. Clare", subtly and lovingly reproducing the spirit Italian Renaissance, as well as "Red Lily" - secular psychological novel, written, according to biographers, not without the influence of Madame de Caiave, who allegedly wanted to show that her friend Anatole was able to create a masterpiece in this genre. The "Red Lily" seems to stand aside from the mainstream of his work. The main thing in the novel is the philosophical and psychological problem of thought and feeling. But it is precisely this problem that is the key to the contradiction that torments Coignard: in thought he is entirely with the old woman from Syracuse, and in feeling with the rebels!

In the same year, 1894, the book The Garden of Epicurus was published, compiled from excerpts from articles published from 1886 to 1894. Here - thoughts and reasoning on a variety of topics: man, society, history, theory of knowledge, art, love. .

The book is imbued with agnosticism and pessimism, preaches the principle of "condescending irony", social passivity. However, the life of a skeptical philosopher, at least outwardly, is going quite well. The tremendous success of The Red Lily gives him the opportunity to seek the highest honor available to a writer: a seat in the French Academy. The election took place in January 1896. A few months earlier, the prudent candidate for immortality interrupted the publication of a series of short stories that had begun, which would later form four volumes of Modern History. After the election, publication resumed, and in 1897 the first two volumes of the tetralogy - "Under the City Elms" and "Willow Mannequin" - were published as separate editions. The third book - "The Amethyst Ring" - will be published in 1899, and the fourth and last - "Mr. Bergeret in Paris" - in 1901.

After many, many "stories" - medieval, antique, early Christian, after the wise, skeptical XVIII century, so brilliantly resurrected in the novels about Coignard, the turn of "modern history" finally comes. True, modernity was not alien to Frans before; in all his works, no matter how distant eras they may be devoted, Anatole France always acts as a writer of modern times, an artist and a thinker late XIX century. However, a direct satirical depiction of modernity is fundamentally new stage in the work of Anatole France.

"Modern History" does not have a single, clearly defined plot. This is a kind of chronicle, a series of dialogues, portraits and paintings from the provincial and Parisian life 90s, united by a common character, and first of all by the figure of Professor Bergeret, who continues the Bonnard-Coignard line. The first volume is devoted mainly to clerical-administrative intrigues around the vacant episcopal seat. Before us are both main contenders for the “amethyst ring”: the old-fashioned and honest Abbé Lantaigne, Bergeret’s constant opponent in disputes “on abstract topics” that they wage on the boulevard bench, under the city elms, and his rival, the clergyman of the new formation, Abbé Guitrel, unprincipled careerist and intriguer. A very colorful figure is the prefect of the department of Worms - Clavelin, a Jew and Freemason, a great master of compromise, who has survived more than one ministry and is most concerned with maintaining his place in any turns of the state boat; this prefect of the republic strives to maintain the most friendly relations with local nobility and patronizes the abbe Guitrel, from whom he buys cheap old church utensils. Life is going slowly, occasionally interrupted by emergencies like the murder of an octogenarian old woman, which provides endless food for conversation in Blaiseau's bookshop, where the local intelligentsia gathers.

In the second book, the main place is occupied by the collapse of the hearth of Mr. Bergeret and the liberation of the free-thinking philosopher from the tyranny of his bourgeois and, in addition, still unfaithful wife. There is no doubt that these episodes are inspired by relatively fresh memories of the family misadventures of Frans himself. The author, not without irony, shows how the world sorrow philosopher Bergeret under the influence of these purely personal and transient moments. At the same time, the underlying struggle for the episcopal miter continues, involving more and more participants. Finally, the third main theme that arises in the book (more precisely, in Bergeret's conversations) and so far has nothing to do with the plot is the theme of the army and justice, especially military justice, which Bergeret resolutely rejects as a relic of barbarism, in solidarity with Coignard in this. In general, Bergeret repeats much of what the pious abbot has already said, but on one point he disagrees with him already in the first book. This point is the attitude towards the republic: “It is unfair. But she is undemanding... The current republic, the republic of 1897, I like and touches me with its modesty... She does not trust the monks and the military. Under the threat of death, she can become furious ... And that would be very sad ... "

Why suddenly such an evolution of views? And what "threat" in question? The fact is that at this time France enters a turbulent period in its history, passing under the sign of the famous Dreyfus affair. A rather banal judicial error in itself - the conviction of an innocent person on charges of treason - and the stubborn unwillingness of military justice and the army elite to recognize this error served as a pretext for uniting the country's reactionary forces under the banner of nationalism, Catholicism, militarism and anti-Semitism (the innocently convicted was a Jew). Unlike many of his colleagues and even friends, contrary to his own pessimistic theories, Frans at first not very decisively, and then more and more passionately rushes to defend violated justice. He signs petitions, gives interviews, witnesses the defense at the trial of Zola - his former opponent, who became the leader and inspirer of the Dreyfusard camp - and even renounces his order in protest against Zola's exclusion from the lists of the Legion of Honor. He has a new friend - Zhores, one of the most prominent socialist leaders. The former Parnassian poet speaks at student and workers' meetings not only in defense of Zola and Dreyfus; he directly calls on the proletarians "to make their strength felt and to impose their will on this world in order to establish a more reasonable and just order in it."

According to this evolution political views Francis, the heroes of "Modern History" also change. In the third book, the general tone becomes much more caustic and accusatory. With the help of complex intrigues, not “without the direct and not only verbal assistance of two prominent ladies of the department, Abbé Guitrel becomes a bishop and, barely seated in the coveted chair, actively joins the campaign against the republic, to which he, in essence, owes his dignity. And, like a "patriot's" stone flying from the street into Mr. Bergeret's office, "Delo" breaks into the novel.

In the fourth book, the action is transferred to Paris, in the thick of things; the novel more and more takes on the features of a political pamphlet. Numerous discourses of Bergeret about his political opponents are pamphlet; Two insert stories “about trublions” (the word “trublion” can be translated into Russian as “troublemaker”, “troublemaker”) stand out especially, as if they were found by Bergeret in some old manuscript.

Even sharper, perhaps, are the numerous episodes that introduce the reader into the midst of monarchist conspirators who play conspiracy with the obvious connivance of the police and are absolutely incapable of serious action. However, among them there is one character whom the author, paradoxically, clearly sympathizes with: this is a smart and insightful adventurer and a cynic - also a philosopher! - Henri Leon. Where does this come from all of a sudden? The fact is that the “official representative” of the author in the novel is Bergeret, a philosopher who is friends with the socialist worker Rupar, positively perceives his ideas and, most importantly, he himself proceeds to practical action to defend his convictions. However, the old, "Coignard" contradiction, the bitter skepticism of the old Syracuse woman still lives in the soul of Frans. And so, obviously not daring to entrust his doubts to Bergeret - this could cause discontent among his comrades in the struggle - France endows them with a hero from the camp of enemies. But one way or another, "Modern History" is new and milestone in the evolution of creativity and worldview of Anatole France, due to the very course community development France and the rapprochement of the writer with the labor movement.

THE FRENCH REPUBLIC AND THE GREEK CRUNQUEBILLE

A direct response to the Dreyfus affair is the story "Crainquebil", first published in "Figaro" (late 1900 - early 1901). Krenquebille is a philosophical story in which Anatole Frals again turns to the topic of justice and, summarizing the lessons of the Dreyfus case, proves that with the existing organization of society, justice is organically hostile specific person, not invested with power, is not able to protect his interests and establish the truth, since it is, by its very nature, called upon to protect those in power and suppress the oppressed. The political and philosophical tendency here is expressed not only in the plot and images - it is directly stated in the text; already the first chapter formulates the problem in an abstract philosophical way: “The greatness of justice is fully expressed in every sentence that the judge passes on behalf of the sovereign people. Jérôme Krenquebil, a street greengrocer, learned the omnipotence of the law when he was taken to the police station for insulting a government official. The further presentation is perceived primarily as an illustration, designed to confirm (or refute) the given thesis.

This happens because the narrative in the first half of the story is entirely ironic and conditional. Is it possible, for example, to imagine without a smile, even as something obviously unreal, a traveling merchant who argues with a judge about the appropriateness of the simultaneous presence in the courtroom of a crucifix and a bust of the Republic?

In the same way, the factual side of the case is told “frivolously”: a dispute between a greengrocer and a policeman, when the first one is waiting for his money and thereby “attaches excessive importance to his right to receive fourteen sous”, and the second, guided by the letter of the law, sternly reminds him of his duty “to drive a cart and go forward all the time”, and further scenes in which the author explains the thoughts and feelings of the hero with words completely unusual for him. This method of storytelling leads to the fact that the reader does not believe in the authenticity of what is happening and perceives it all as a kind of philosophical comedy, designed to confirm some abstract positions.

The story is perceived not so much emotionally as rationally; the reader, of course, sympathizes with Crainquebil, but does not take the whole story very seriously. But starting from the sixth chapter, everything changes: the philosophical comedy is over, the psychological and social drama begins. The story gives way to the show; the hero is no longer presented from the outside, not from the heights of the author's erudition, but, so to speak, from within: everything that happens is more or less colored by his perception. Krenkebil leaves prison and finds with bitter surprise that all his former clients contemptuously turn away from him, because they do not want to know the "criminal".

“No one else wanted to know him. Everyone... despised and repulsed him. The whole society, that's how! What is it? You've been in prison for two weeks and you can't even sell leeks! Is it fair? Where is the truth when good man all that remains is to starve to death over some little misunderstanding with the police. And if you can’t trade, then die!” Here the author, as it were, merges with the hero and speaks on his behalf, and the reader is no longer inclined to look down on his misfortunes: he deeply sympathizes with him. The comic character has turned into a genuine dramatic hero, and this hero is not a philosopher and not a monk, not a poet and not an artist, but a traveling merchant! This means that friendship with the socialists really deeply influenced the aesthete and the epicurean, which means that this is not just a hobby of a jaded skeptic, but a logical and only possible way out of the impasse.

The years go by but old age as if it does not affect the literary and social activities Comrade Anatole. He speaks at rallies in defense of the Russian revolution, stigmatizes the tsarist autocracy and the French bourgeoisie, which provided Nicholas with a loan to suppress the revolution. During this period, Frans published several books, among them the collection "On a White Stone", containing a curious socialist utopia. Frans dreams of a new, harmonious society and predicts some of its features. To an inexperienced reader it may seem that his skepticism has been finally overcome, but one detail - the title - casts doubt on the whole picture. The story is called "The Horn Gate or the Ivory Gate": in ancient mythology it was believed that prophetic dreams they fly out of Hades with a gate of horn, and the deceitful - with a gate of ivory. By what gate did this dream pass?

HISTORY OF THE PENGUINS

The year 1908 was marked by an important event for Frans: his "Penguin Island" was published. The author, in the very first sentence of his ironic Preface, writes: “Despite the seeming variety of amusements that I indulge in, my life is dedicated to one thing only, aimed at the implementation of one great plan. I'm writing penguin history. I work hard on it, not retreating in the face of numerous and sometimes seemingly insurmountable difficulties. Irony, joke? Yes, definitely. But not only. Indeed, he writes history all his life. And "Penguin Island" is a kind of summary, a generalization of everything that has already been written and thought out - a brief, "one-volume" essay on European history. By the way, this is how the novel was perceived by contemporaries.

In fact, "Penguin Island" can hardly even be called a novel in the full sense of the word: it does not have a main character, not a single plot for the whole work; instead of the ups and downs of the development of private destinies, fate passes before the reader whole country- an imaginary country with typical features of many countries, but above all - France. Grotesque masks appear one after another on the stage; these are not even people, but penguins, who by chance became people ... Here is one big penguin hitting a small one with a club - it is he who establishes private property; here is another scaring his fellows, putting on a horned helmet on his head and fastening his tail - this is the ancestor of the royal dynasty; next to them and behind them - dissolute virgins and queens, crazy kings, blind and deaf ministers, unrighteous judges, greedy monks - whole clouds of monks! All this becomes in poses, makes speeches and right there, in front of the audience, creates their innumerable abominations and crimes. And in the background - gullible and patient people. And so we pass epoch after epoch.

Everything here is hyperbole, comic exaggeration, starting from the very beginning of the story, from the miraculous origin of the penguins; and the farther, the more: a whole people rushes to pursue the penguin Orberosa, the first of all penguin women to put on a dress; not only pygmies riding cranes, but even order-bearing gorillas march in the ranks of the army of Emperor Trinco; almost dozens a day, the New Atlantis congress votes resolutions on "industrial" wars; internecine strife of penguins acquire a truly epic scale - the unfortunate Colomban is thrown with lemons, wine bottles, hams, boxes of sardines; he is drowned in a gutter, pushed into a manhole, tossed along with his horse and carriage into the Seine; and if it is a matter of false evidence that is collected to convict an innocent, then under their weight the building of the ministry almost collapses.

“Injustice, stupidity and cruelty do not strike anyone when they have become a custom. We see all this in our ancestors, but we do not see it in ourselves,” wrote Anatole France in the “Preface” to “The Judgments of M. Jerome Coignard”. Now, fifteen years later, he has translated this idea into a novel. In "Penguin Island" the injustice, stupidity and cruelty inherent in the modern social order are shown as things have been for a long time past days- so they are more visible. And this is the meaning of the very form of "history" applied to the story of modernity.

This is very important point- after all, almost two-thirds of the novel is devoted to "modern history". It is quite obvious, for example, that the French Revolution of the late eighteenth century is a more significant event than the Dreyfus affair, and yet only two pages are devoted to the revolution in Penguin Island, and the Eighty Thousand Bundles of Hay Case, which grotesquely reproduces the circumstances of the Dreyfus affair - a whole book.

Why such disproportion? Apparently, because the recent past - and in fact for Frans it is almost the present - interests the author more than history itself. It is possible that the form itself historical narrative Frans needed it mainly in order to introduce into it the material of today, appropriately processed and "straightened". The falsified case of high treason, which seemed extremely complicated to contemporaries, turns under the pen of Frans into obvious savagery and lawlessness, something like a medieval auto-da-fé; deliberately reduced, “stupid” even the very motivation of the case: “eighty thousand armfuls of hay” is, on the one hand, a comic hyperbole (like thirty-five thousand couriers in The Government Inspector), and on the other, a litote, that is, a hyperbole on the contrary, a comic understatement; the country comes almost to a civil war - because of what? Because of the hay!

The result is very disappointing. The ominous ghost of the Syracusan old woman reappears in the final pages of the novel. Penguin civilization reaches its apogee. The gap between the producer class and the capitalist class becomes so deep that it creates, in essence, two different races (as with Wells in The Time Machine), both of which degenerate both physically and mentally. And then there are people - anarchists - who decide: "The city must be destroyed." Explosions of monstrous force shake the capital; civilization perishes and ... everything starts over again in order to again come to the same result. The circle of history closes, there is no hope.

Historical pessimism is especially deeply expressed in the novel The Gods Thirst (1912). This is a very powerful and very dark, tragic book. The hero of the novel, the artist Gamelin, a disinterested, enthusiastic revolutionary, a man capable of giving all his bread ration to a hungry woman with a baby, against his will, only following the logic of events, becomes a member of the revolutionary tribunal and sends hundreds of prisoners to the guillotine, including and their former friends. He is the executioner, but he is also the victim; in order to make the homeland happy (according to his own understanding), he sacrifices not only his life, but also the good memory of his offspring. He knows that he will be cursed as an executioner and a bloodsucker, but he is ready to take full responsibility for all the blood he shed so that a child playing in the garden will never have to shed it. He is a hero, but he is also a fanatic, he has a “religious mindset”, and therefore the author’s sympathies are not on his side, but on the side of the Epicurean philosopher opposed to him, the “former nobleman” Brotto, who understands everything and is incapable of action. Both perish, and the death of both is equally meaningless; with the same words, the former beloved of Gamelin sees off the new lover; life goes on, as painful and beautiful as before, "that bitch life," as Frans said in one of his later stories.

One can argue about how truthfully the writer depicted the era, one can accuse him of distorting historical truth, of not understanding the real alignment of class forces and disbelief in the people, but one cannot deny him one thing: the picture he created is really amazing; the coloring of the era revived by him is so rich, juicy and convincing both in general and in its unique and terrible details, in the truly vital interweaving and interpenetration of the sublime and the base, the majestic and the petty, the tragic and the ridiculous, that one cannot remain indifferent, and involuntarily begins to seem that it's not historical novel, written more than a hundred years after the events depicted, but a living testimony of a contemporary.

"BOLSHEVIK HEART AND SOUL"

Rise of the Angels, published the following year, adds little to what has already been said. This is a witty, mischievous, very frivolous story about the adventures of angels sent down to earth and plotting to rebel against the heavenly tyrant Ialdabaoth. One must think that the accursed question, to which Frans gave so much spiritual strength, still continued to torment him. However, he didn’t find any new solution this time either - at the last moment, the leader of the rebels, Satan, refuses to speak: “What is the point of people not obeying Ialdabaoth if his spirit still lives in them, if they, like him, are envious prone to violence and strife, greedy, hostile to art and beauty? "Victory is the spirit ... in us and only in ourselves we must overcome and destroy Ialdabaoth." In 1914, Frans again - for the third time - returns to childhood memories; however, "Little Pierre" and "Life in Bloom", books that will include novels conceived and partially already written, will not appear in the light until a few years later. August is coming, and with it comes the fulfillment of the darkest prophecies: war. For France, this is a double blow: on the very first day of the war, an old friend Jaurès dies, shot dead by a nationalist fanatic in a Parisian cafe.

Seventy-year-old Frans is confused: the world seems to have been changed; everyone, even his socialist friends, forgetting about pacifist speeches and resolutions, vying with each other shouting about the war to the bitter end against the Teutonic barbarians, about the sacred duty of defending the fatherland, and the author of "Penguins" has no choice but to add his old voice to the choir. However, he did not show sufficient zeal, and moreover, he allowed himself in one interview to hint at the future - after the victory - of reconciliation with Germany.

The recognized leader of modern literature instantly turned into a "miserable defeatist" and almost a traitor. The campaign against him took on such a scale that, wanting to put an end to it, the seventy-year-old apostle of peace and debunker of wars applied for enrollment in the army, but was declared unfit for military service for health reasons.

By the eighteenth year, the literary biography of Frans, with the exception of "Life in Bloom", is all in the past. However, the public and political biography is still waiting to be completed. It seems that his strength has no limits: together with Barbusse, he signs the appeal of the Clarte group, speaks in defense of the rebellious sailors of the Black Sea squadron, calls on the French to help the starving children of the Volga region, criticizes the Treaty of Versailles as a potential source of new conflicts, and in January 1920 writes the following words : "I have always admired Lenin, but today I am a real Bolshevik, a Bolshevik in soul and heart." And he proved this by the fact that after the Congress of Tours, at which the socialist party split, he resolutely took the side of the communists.

He had two more solemn moments: the award in the same twentieth year of the Nobel Prize and - no less flattering recognition of his merits - the inclusion by the Vatican, in the twenty-second year, of the complete works of Anatole France in the index of forbidden books.

On October 12, 1924, a former Parnassian, esthete, skeptical philosopher, Epicurean, and now a "Bolshevik in heart and soul" died of arteriosclerosis at the age of eighty years and six months.

Anatole France was born four years before the French Revolution of 1848 and lived for eight decades shattered by political passions, uprisings, coups and wars. A poet, publicist, novelist, satirist, he was an active person who showed extraordinary power of mind and originality of nature. His literary work was the same - passionate, sarcastic, organically combined with dreaminess, a poetic attitude to life.

Anatole France was called "the most French writer, the most Parisian, the most refined." And Leo Tolstoy, noting his truthful and strong talent, said about him: "Europe now has no real artist-writer, except for Anatole France."
Anatole France (real name Anatole Francois Thibault) was born on April 16, 1844 in Paris to the second-hand book dealer Francois Noel and Antoinette Thibault.

Frans explained his pseudonym, already being a venerable writer, by the fact that his father, Francois Noel Thibault, who came from an ancient family of Angevin winegrowers, was called Frans all his life in this region.

Anatole grew up in an atmosphere of books and a professional interest in the printed word, since childhood book store was for him a "treasury", as he later wrote in his memoirs. Already at the age of eight, little Anatole compiled a collection of moralizing aphorisms (for which he even read La Rochefoucauld) and called it New Christian Thoughts and Maxims. He dedicated this work to "dear mother", accompanying it with a note and a promise to publish this book when he grows up.

In the Catholic College of St. Stanislaus, Anatole received a classical education, slightly tinged with theology. Almost all of his college comrades belonged to noble or wealthy families, and the boy suffered from humiliation. Perhaps that is why he became a fighter and a mocker, and began to compose epigrams early. The college made the future writer a rebel for life, forming an independent, caustic and rather unbalanced character.

Literary creativity attracted Anatole as a child. Already at the age of 12, he enjoyed reading Virgil in the original, like his father, he preferred historical writings, and Cervantes' Don Quixote became his reference book in his youth. In 1862, Anatole graduated from college, but did not pass the bachelor's exams, having received unsatisfactory grades in mathematics, chemistry and geography. France nevertheless became a bachelor, having re-passed the exams at the Sorbonne in 1864.

By this time, Frans was already a decently earning professional critic and editor. He collaborated in two bibliographic journals, and in addition, he tried his hand at the art of versification, criticism, dramatic genre. In 1873, the first book of poems by Frans "Golden Poems" was published, where nature, love were sung, and reflections on life and death were side by side.
In 1876, after a ten-year wait, Frans was included in the staff of the Senate library - to the great satisfaction of his father: finally, Anatole had both a position and a stable income.

In April 1877, Anatole Francois Thibaut got married. It was a traditional bourgeois marriage: the bride had to get married, and the groom had to acquire marital status. Twenty-year-old Marie-Valery de Sauville - the daughter of a major official of the Ministry of Finance - was an enviable party for the son of a second-hand book dealer and the grandson of a village shoemaker. Frans was proud of his wife's genealogy, admired her timidity and taciturnity. True, it later turned out that the wife's silence was due to disbelief in his talent as a writer and contempt for this profession.

A significant dowry Valerie went to the arrangement of the mansion on the street near the Bois de Boulogne. Here Frans began to work hard. In the library of the Senate, he was known as a negligent worker, but as for literary work, here the writer did not reject a single proposal from the publishers, collaborating simultaneously with five dozen magazines. He edited the classics, wrote numerous articles - not only on literature, but also on history, political economy, archeology, paleontology, human origins, etc.
In 1881, Frans became a father, his daughter Suzanne was born, whom he dearly loved all his life. In the year of his daughter's birth, Frans' first book was also published, in which he found his hero, Sylvester Bonnard, and with him his own individual style. The book "The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard, Fellow of the Institute" won the French Academy Prize. In the Academy's decision on the award, it was said: it was awarded to "an elegant, outstanding, perhaps exceptional work."

In 1883 Frans became a regular chronicler in The Illustrated World. Every two weeks his review "Paris Chronicle" appears, covering different aspects of French life. From 1882 to 1896 he will write over 350 articles and essays.
Thanks to the success of "Sylvester Bonnard" and the extraordinary popularity of the "Paris Chronicle", France enters high society. In 1883 he met Leontine Armand de Caiavet, whose salon was one of the most brilliant literary, political and artistic salons in Paris. This smart, imperious aristocrat was the same age as Frans. From her he heard what he needed so much at home: an encouraging assessment of his work. Long-term, jealous, tyrannical devotion to Leontina will fill the writer's personal life for a long time. And his wife, Valerie France, every year will increasingly experience a militant need to sort things out and settle scores. Alien to the spiritual life of her husband, she managed to make alien to France and their own house, which he filled with books, a collection of paintings, engravings, antiques. The situation in the house escalated to such an extent that Frans stopped talking to his wife altogether, communicating with her only by notes. Finally, one day, unable to bear the silence, Valerie asked her husband: "Where were you last night?" In response to this, Frans silently left the room and left the house in what he was: in a dressing gown, with a crimson velvet "cardinal's" cap on his head, with a tray in his hand, on which was an inkwell and a started article. Defiantly walking through the streets of Paris in this form, he rented a furnished room under the fictitious name of Germain. In such an unusual way, he left home, finally breaking off family relations, which he had tried to maintain in recent years only for the sake of his beloved daughter.

In 1892, Anatole France filed for divorce. From now on, the ambitious Leontina became his faithful and devoted friend. She did everything to make France famous: she herself looked for material for him in libraries, made translations, put manuscripts in order, read proofs, wanting to free him from work that seemed boring to him. She also helped him improve the small Villa Said near the Bois de Boulogne, which soon turned into a museum filled with works of art and furniture from different centuries, countries and schools.

In 1889, the novel "Tais", which later became famous, was published. In it, France finally found that way of self-expression, where he had no equal. Conventionally, it could be called intellectual prose, combining the image of real life with the author's reflections on its meaning.

After the publication of the novels "The Gods Thirst", "Rise of the Angels" and "The Red Lily", the fame of Anatole France acquired a worldwide sound. Letters began to come to him from everywhere, and not only as a famous novelist, but also as a sage and philosopher. In numerous portraits, the writer, however, tried not to look majestic, but rather elegant.

Unfortunately, sad changes also affected the personal life of the writer. France's daughter, his "tenderly beloved Suzon", in 1908, having already divorced her first husband, fell in love with Michel Psicari, the grandson of the famous religious philosopher Renan, and became his wife. Anatole France did not like this union. He moved away from his daughter, and as it turned out, forever. His relationship with Leontina de Caiave also worsened. For a long time she nurtured and took care of Frans's talent, taking care of his successes, being proud that she helps him, knowing that he loves her too. Every year they traveled around Italy, visited Greece several times. However, towards old age, Leontina becomes more and more vigilant and jealous. She wanted to control her friend's every move, which was beginning to tire and annoy Frans. The bad mood of the writer was exacerbated by guilt. The fact is that Leontina's health, already fragile, was shaken in the summer of 1909, when rumors reached her that France, sailing on a steamer to Brazil to lecture on Rabelais, could not resist the coquetry of a fifty-year-old actress of the French Comedy. Jealous Leontina took to her bed. “This is a child,” she said to her friend, “if you knew how weak, naive he is, how easy it is to fool him!” Returning to Paris, France confessed to his unworthy frivolity. Together with Leontina, he went to Capian, her country house, where Madame de Caiave suddenly fell ill with pneumonia and died on January 12, 1910.

For Frans, the death of Leontina was a huge emotional trauma. The grief was helped by another devoted woman, Ottilie Kosmutze, a Hungarian writer known in her homeland under the pseudonym Sandor Kemeri. At one time she was the writer's secretary and with her sensitivity, kindness helped "to cure a great mind" of depression.

The years of the First World War made Anatole France old. From Paris, he moved to the small estate of Bechelrie, near the province of Touraine, where Emma Laprevote, the former maid of Leontine de Caiavet, lived. This woman was sick and poor. Frans placed her in the hospital, and after her recovery she became the writer's housekeeper, taking care of him. In 1918, Frans suffered a new grief - his daughter, Suzanne Psicari, died of influenza. Her thirteen-year-old son Lucien was left an orphan (Michel Psicari died in the war in 1917), and Frans took up his beloved grandson, who later became the only heir of the writer.

In 1921, Frans was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature "for brilliant literary achievements, marked by sophistication of style, deeply suffered humanism and a truly Gallic temperament."

Throughout his long life, Anatole France rarely complained about his health. Until the age of eighty, he almost did not get sick. However, in April 1922, a vascular spasm paralyzed him for several hours. And the writer admitted that he could no longer "work as before." But, nevertheless, until his death, he retained good spirits and amazing performance. He dreamed of visiting Brussels, London, finishing a book of philosophical dialogues called "Sous la rose", which can be translated as "Not for prying ears".
In July 1924, Frans went to bed with a diagnosis of the last stage of sclerosis. The doctors warned the writer's friends and relatives that his hours were numbered. On the morning of October 12, Frans said with a smile: "This is my last day!" And so it happened. On the night of October 13, 1924, "the most French, the most Parisian, the most refined writer" died.

As the writer Dusan Breschi said about him: “Despite all the vicissitudes of critical fashion, Anatole France will always stand next to B. Shaw, as great satirist era, and next to Rabelais, Moliere and Voltaire, as one of the greatest French wit."

French writer and literary critic. Member of the French Academy (1896). Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature (1921), the money of which he donated to the benefit of the starving Russia.
Anatole France hardly graduated from the Jesuit College, where he studied extremely reluctantly, and, having failed several times in the final exams, passed them only at the age of 20.
Since 1866, Anatole France was forced to earn a living himself, and began his career as a bibliographer. Gradually, he gets acquainted with the literary life of that time, and becomes one of the prominent participants in the Parnassian school.
During the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871, Frans briefly served in the army, and after demobilization he continued to write and perform various editorial work.
In 1875 he had his first real opportunity to prove himself as a journalist, when the Parisian newspaper Le Temps commissioned him for a series of critical articles on contemporary writers. The very next year, he becomes the leading literary critic of this newspaper and leads his own column called "Literary Life".
In 1876, he was also appointed deputy director of the library of the French Senate and held this post for the next fourteen years, which gave him the opportunity and means to engage in literature. In 1913 he visited Russia.
In 1922, his writings were included in the Catholic Index of Forbidden Books.
He was a member of the French Geographical Society. In 1898 Frans took an active part in the Dreyfus affair. Under the influence of Marcel Proust, France was the first to sign Emile Zola's famous manifesto letter "I accuse". From these times, France became a prominent figure in the reformist, and later - socialist camp, took part in the organization of people's universities, lectured to workers, participated in rallies organized by leftist forces. France becomes a close friend of the socialist leader Jean Jaurès and a literary master of the French Socialist Party.

Frans is a philosopher and poet. His worldview is reduced to refined epicureanism. He is the sharpest of the French critics of modern reality, without any sentimentality revealing the weaknesses and moral falls of human nature, the imperfection and ugliness of social life, morals, relations between people; but in his criticism he introduces a special reconciliation, philosophical contemplation and serenity, a warming feeling of love for weak humanity. He does not judge or moralize, but only penetrates into the meaning of negative phenomena. This combination of irony with love for people, with an artistic understanding of beauty in all manifestations of life, is feature the works of France. The humor of Frans lies in the fact that his hero applies the same method to the study of the most heterogeneous phenomena. The same historical criterion by which he judges events in ancient egypt, serves him to judge the Dreyfus case and its impact on society; the same analytical method with which he proceeds to abstract scientific questions helps him explain the act of his wife who cheated on him and, having understood it, calmly leave, not judging, but not forgiving either.

), the money of which he donated in favor of the starving Russia.

Biography

Anatole France's father was the owner of a bookstore that specialized in literature on the history of the French Revolution. Anatole France hardly graduated from the Jesuit College, where he studied extremely reluctantly, and, having failed several times in his final exams, he passed them only at the age of 20.

Since 1866, Anatole France was forced to earn a living himself, and began his career as a bibliographer. Gradually, he gets acquainted with the literary life of that time, and becomes one of the prominent participants in the Parnassian school.

Anatole France died in 1924. After his death, his brain was examined by French anatomists, who, in particular, found that his mass was 1017 g. He was buried in the cemetery in Neuilly-sur-Seine.

Social activity

In 1898 Frans took the most active part in the Dreyfus Affair. Influenced by Marcel Proust, France was the first to sign Émile Zola's famous manifesto letter.

From that time on, Frans became a prominent figure in the reformist, and later the socialist camp, took part in the organization of public universities, lectured to workers, and participated in rallies organized by leftist forces. France becomes a close friend of the socialist leader Jean Jaurès and a literary master of the French Socialist Party.

Creation

Early work

The novel that brought him fame, "The Crime of Sylvester Bonnard" (fr.)Russian, published in 1881, is a satire that favors frivolity and kindness over harsh virtue.

In subsequent novels and stories by Frans, with great erudition and subtle psychological instinct, the spirit of different historical eras is recreated. "Queen Crow's Feet Tavern" (fr.)Russian(1893) - a satirical story in the style of the 18th century, with the original central figure of Abbé Jerome Coignard: he is pious, but leads a sinful life and justifies his "falls" by the fact that they strengthen the spirit of humility in him. The same Abbé France deduces in Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard (1893) in Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard.

In a number of stories, in particular, in the collection "Mother-of-Pearl Casket" (fr.)Russian(1892), Frans discovers a vivid fantasy; his favorite topic is the juxtaposition of pagan and Christian worldviews in stories from the first centuries of Christianity or the early Renaissance. The best examples of this kind are "Saint Satyr". In this he had a certain influence on Dmitry Merezhkovsky. Roman "Tais" (fr.)Russian(1890) - the story of a famous ancient courtesan who became a saint - written in the same spirit of a mixture of Epicureanism and Christian charity.

Characteristics of the worldview from the encyclopedia of Brockhaus and Efron

Frans is a philosopher and poet. His worldview is reduced to refined epicureanism. He is the sharpest of the French critics of modern reality, without any sentimentality revealing the weaknesses and moral falls of human nature, the imperfection and ugliness of social life, morals, relations between people; but in his criticism he introduces a special reconciliation, philosophical contemplation and serenity, a warming feeling of love for weak humanity. He does not judge or moralize, but only penetrates into the meaning of negative phenomena. This combination of irony with love for people, with an artistic understanding of beauty in all manifestations of life, is a characteristic feature of Frans' works. The humor of Frans lies in the fact that his hero applies the same method to the study of the most heterogeneous phenomena. The same historical criterion by which he judges events in ancient Egypt serves him to judge the Dreyfus case and its impact on society; the same analytical method with which he proceeds to abstract scientific questions helps him explain the act of his wife who cheated on him and, having understood it, calmly leave, without judging, but not forgiving either.

Quotes

"Religions, like chameleons, take on the color of the soil on which they live."

"There is no magic stronger than the magic of the word."

Compositions

Modern History (L'Histoire contemporaine)

• Under the city elms (L'Orme du mail, 1897).
• Willow mannequin (Le Mannequin d'osier, 1897).
• Amethyst ring (L'Anneau d'améthyste, 1899).
• Mr. Bergeret in Paris (Monsieur Bergeret à Paris, 1901).

Autobiographical cycle

• My friend's book (Le Livre de mon ami, 1885).
• Pierre Nozière (1899).
• Little Pierre (Le Petit Pierre, 1918).
• Life in Bloom (La Vie en fleur, 1922).

Novels

• Jocasta (Jocaste, 1879).
• "Skinny Cat" (Le Chat maigre, 1879).
• Crime of Sylvester Bonnard (Le Crime de Sylvestre Bonnard, 1881).
• Passion of Jean Servien (Les Désirs de Jean Servien, 1882).
• Count Abel (Abeille, conte, 1883).
• Thais (Thais, 1890).
• Tavern of Queen Goose Feet (La Rôtisserie de la reine Pédauque, 1892).
• Jérôme Coignard's judgments (Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard, 1893).
• Red lily (Le Lys rouge, 1894).
• Epicurus Garden (Le Jardin d'Épicure, 1895).
• Theatrical History (Histoires comiques, 1903).
• On a white stone (Sur la pierre blanche, 1905).
• Penguin Island (L'Île des Pingouins, 1908).
• The Gods Thirst (Les dieux ont soif, 1912).
• Rise of the Angels (La Révolte des anges, 1914).

Novels collections

• Balthasar (Balthasar, 1889).
• Mother-of-pearl casket (L'Étui de nacre, 1892).
• Well of St. Clare (Le Puits de Sainte Claire, 1895).
• Clio (Clio, 1900).
• Procurator of Judea (Le Procurateur de Judée, 1902).
• Crainquebille, Putois, Riquet and many other useful stories (L'Affaire Crainquebille, 1901).
• The Stories of Jacques Tournebroche (Les Contes de Jacques Tournebroche, 1908).
• The Seven Wives of Bluebeard (Les Sept Femmes de Barbe bleue et autres contes merveilleux, 1909).

Dramaturgy

• What the hell is not kidding (Au petit bonheur, un acte, 1898).
• Crainquebille (pièce, 1903).
• Willow Mannequin (Le Mannequin d'osier, comédie, 1908).
• A comedy about a man who married a mute (La Comédie de celui qui épousa une femme muette, deux actes, 1908).

Essay

• Life of Joan of Arc (Vie de Jeanne d'Arc, 1908).
• Literary life (Critique littéraire).
• Latin genius (Le Génie latin, 1913).

Poetry

• Golden Poems (Poèmes dorés, 1873).
• Corinthian wedding (Les Noces corinthiennes, 1876).

Publication of works in Russian translation

• France A. Collected Works in eight volumes. - M .: State publishing house of fiction, 1957-1960.
• France A. Collected works in four volumes. - M.: Fiction, 1983-1984.

Write a review on the article "France, Anatole"

Notes

Literature

• Likhodzievskiy S.I. Anatole France [Text]: Essay on creativity. Tashkent: Goslitizdat UzSSR, 1962. - 419 p.

Links

• - A selection of articles by A. V. Lunacharsky
• Trykov V.P.. Electronic encyclopedia "Modern French literature» (2011). Retrieved December 12, 2011. .

An excerpt characterizing Frans, Anatole

Rostov, preoccupied with his relationship with Bogdanych, stopped on the bridge, not knowing what to do. There was no one to chop (as he always imagined a battle), and he also could not help in lighting the bridge, because he did not take with him, like other soldiers, a bundle of straw. He stood and looked around, when suddenly there was a crackling sound on the bridge like scattered nuts, and one of the hussars, who was closest to him, fell with a groan on the railing. Rostov ran to him along with the others. Again someone shouted: "Stretcher!". The hussar was picked up by four people and began to lift.
- Oooh! ... Drop it, for Christ's sake, - the wounded man shouted; but they still picked it up and laid it down.
Nikolai Rostov turned away and, as if looking for something, began to look at the distance, at the water of the Danube, at the sky, at the sun. How beautiful the sky looked, how blue, calm and deep! How bright and solemn the setting sun! How softly and glossy the water shone in the distant Danube! And even better were the distant mountains blue beyond the Danube, the monastery, the mysterious gorges, flooded to the tops with fog. pine forests... it’s quiet, happy there ... “Nothing, I wouldn’t want anything, I wouldn’t want anything, if only I were there,” thought Rostov. “There is so much happiness in me alone and in this sun, and here ... groans, suffering, fear, and this vagueness, this haste ... Here they are again shouting something, and again everyone ran somewhere back, and I run with them, and here she is.” , here it is, death, above me, around me ... A moment - and I will never see this sun, this water, this gorge again ”...
At that moment the sun began to hide behind the clouds; ahead of Rostov other stretchers appeared. And the fear of death and the stretcher, and the love of the sun and life - all merged into one painfully disturbing impression.
“Oh my God! He Who is there in this sky, save, forgive and protect me!” Rostov whispered to himself.
The hussars ran up to the grooms, the voices became louder and calmer, the stretcher disappeared from sight.
- What, bg "at, sniffed pog" oh? ... - the voice of Vaska Denisov shouted over his ear.
“It's all over; but I'm a coward, yes, I'm a coward," thought Rostov, and, sighing heavily, he took from the hands of the horseman his Grachik, who had put aside his leg, and began to sit down.
- What was it, buckshot? he asked Denisov.
- Yes, what a! shouted Denisov. - Well done g "worked! And g" work skveg "naya! Attack is a kind deed, g" kill in the dog, and here, chog "does not know what, they hit like a target.
And Denisov rode off to a group that had stopped not far from Rostov: the regimental commander, Nesvitsky, Zherkov and an officer of the retinue.
"However, no one seems to have noticed," Rostov thought to himself. And indeed, no one noticed anything, because everyone was familiar with the feeling that an unfired junker experienced for the first time.
- Here's a report for you, - said Zherkov, - you look, and they will make me a second lieutenant.
“Report to the prince that I lit the bridge,” the colonel said solemnly and cheerfully.
- And if they ask about the loss?
- A trifle! - boomed the colonel, - two hussars were wounded, and one on the spot, - he said with visible joy, unable to resist a happy smile, loudly chopping off beautiful word on the spot.

Pursued by the 100,000-strong French army under Bonaparte, met with hostile inhabitants, no longer trusting their allies, lacking food, and forced to act beyond all foreseeable conditions of war, the Russian army of 35,000, under the command of Kutuzov, hastily retreated down the Danube, stopping where it was overtaken by the enemy, and fighting back with rearguard deeds, only as far as it was necessary in order to retreat without losing burdens. There were cases under Lambach, Amstetten and Melk; but, despite the courage and steadfastness, recognized by the enemy himself, with which the Russians fought, the consequence of these deeds was only an even faster retreat. The Austrian troops, who had escaped capture at Ulm and joined Kutuzov at Braunau, now separated from the Russian army, and Kutuzov was left only to his weak, exhausted forces. It was impossible to think of defending Vienna any longer. Instead of an offensive, deeply thought-out, according to the laws of the new science - strategy, war, the plan of which was transferred to Kutuzov when he was in Vienna as an Austrian gofkriegsrat, the only, almost unattainable goal that now seemed to Kutuzov was that, without destroying the army like Mack under Ulm, to connect with the troops marching from Russia.
On October 28, Kutuzov with an army crossed to the left bank of the Danube and stopped for the first time, putting the Danube between himself and the main French forces. On the 30th, he attacked Mortier's division on the left bank of the Danube and defeated it. In this case, trophies were taken for the first time: a banner, guns and two enemy generals. For the first time after a two-week retreat, the Russian troops stopped and, after a struggle, not only held the battlefield, but drove the French away. Despite the fact that the troops were undressed, exhausted, one-third weakened backward, wounded, killed and sick; despite the fact that on the other side of the Danube the sick and wounded were left with a letter from Kutuzov entrusting them to the philanthropy of the enemy; despite the fact that the large hospitals and houses in Krems, converted into infirmaries, could no longer accommodate all the sick and wounded, despite all this, the stop at Krems and the victory over Mortier significantly raised the spirit of the troops. The most joyful, though unfair, rumors circulated throughout the army and in the main apartment about the imaginary approach of columns from Russia, about some kind of victory won by the Austrians, and about the retreat of the frightened Bonaparte.
Prince Andrei was during the battle with the Austrian general Schmitt, who was killed in this case. A horse was wounded under him, and he himself was slightly scratched in the arm by a bullet. As a sign of the special favor of the commander in chief, he was sent with the news of this victory to the Austrian court, which was no longer in Vienna, which was threatened French troops, and in Brunn. On the night of the battle, excited, but not tired (despite his seemingly slight build, Prince Andrei could endure physical fatigue much better than the strongest people), arriving on horseback with a report from Dokhturov to Krems to Kutuzov, Prince Andrei was sent that same night courier to Brunn. Departure by courier, in addition to rewards, meant an important step towards promotion.
The night was dark and starry; the road was blackened between the whitening snow that had fallen the day before, on the day of the battle. Now sorting through the impressions of the past battle, now happily imagining the impression that he would make with the news of the victory, remembering the farewell to the commander-in-chief and comrades, Prince Andrei galloped in the mail cart, experiencing the feeling of a man who has been waiting for a long time and, finally, has reached the beginning of the desired happiness. As soon as he closed his eyes, the firing of guns and guns was heard in his ears, which merged with the sound of wheels and the impression of victory. Now he began to imagine that the Russians were fleeing, that he himself had been killed; but he hurriedly woke up, with happiness, as if again learning that none of this had happened, and that, on the contrary, the French had fled. He again recalled all the details of the victory, his calm courage during the battle, and, having calmed down, dozed off ... After a dark starry night, a bright, cheerful morning came. The snow was melting in the sun, the horses were galloping fast, and indifferently to the right and to the left, new diverse forests, fields, villages passed.
At one of the stations, he overtook a convoy of Russian wounded. The Russian officer who was driving the transport, lounging on the front cart, shouted something, scolding the soldier with rude words. Six or more pale, bandaged and dirty wounded were shaking along the rocky road in long German bows. Some of them spoke (he heard the Russian dialect), others ate bread, the heaviest in silence, with meek and sickly childish concern, looked at their courier galloping past.
Prince Andrei ordered to stop and asked the soldier in what case they were wounded. “The day before yesterday on the Danube,” answered the soldier. Prince Andrei took out a purse and gave the soldier three gold coins.
“All of them,” he added, addressing the approaching officer. - Get well, guys, - he turned to the soldiers, - there is still a lot to do.
- What, adjutant, what news? the officer asked, apparently wanting to talk.
- Good ones! Forward, - he shouted to the driver and galloped on.
It was already completely dark when Prince Andrei drove into Brunn and saw himself surrounded by tall houses, the lights of shops, windows of houses and lanterns, beautiful carriages rustling along the pavement and all that atmosphere of a big busy city, which is always so attractive for a military man after the camp. Prince Andrei, despite the fast ride and sleepless night, approaching the palace, felt even more lively than the day before. Only the eyes shone with a feverish brilliance, and thoughts changed with extreme rapidity and clarity. Again, all the details of the battle were vividly presented to him, no longer vaguely, but definitely, in a concise presentation, which he made in his imagination to Emperor Franz. He vividly presented himself with random questions that could be made to him, and the answers that he would make to them. He believed that he would immediately be presented to the emperor. But at the large entrance of the palace an official ran out to him and, recognizing him as a courier, escorted him to another entrance.
– From the corridor to the right; there, Euer Hochgeboren, [Your Honor,] ​​you will find the adjutant's wing on duty, - the official told him. “He takes him to the Minister of War.
The adjutant on duty, who met Prince Andrei, asked him to wait and went to the Minister of War. Five minutes later the adjutant wing returned and, leaning especially politely and letting Prince Andrei go ahead of him, led him through the corridor to the office where the Minister of War was studying. The aide-de-camp wing, by his refined courtesy, seemed to want to protect himself from the Russian adjutant's attempts at familiarity. The joyful feeling of Prince Andrei weakened significantly when he approached the door of the office of the Minister of War. He felt insulted, and the feeling of insult passed at the same instant, imperceptibly for him, into a feeling of contempt based on nothing. A resourceful mind at the same instant suggested to him the point of view from which he had the right to despise both the adjutant and the minister of war. “It must be very easy for them to win victories without smelling gunpowder!” he thought. His eyes narrowed contemptuously; he entered the office of the Minister of War with particular slowness. This feeling was even more intensified when he saw the Minister of War sitting over a large table and for the first two minutes paying no attention to the newcomer. The Minister of War lowered his bald head with gray temples between two wax candles and read, marking papers with a pencil. He finished reading without raising his head as the door opened and footsteps were heard.
“Take this and pass it on,” the Minister of War said to his adjutant, handing over the papers and not yet paying attention to the courier.
Prince Andrei felt that either of all the affairs that occupied the Minister of War, the actions of the Kutuzov army could least of all interest him, or the Russian courier had to be made to feel this. But I don't care, he thought. The Minister of War moved the rest of the papers, smoothed their edges with edges, and raised his head. He had an intelligent and characteristic head. But at the same moment he turned to Prince Andrei, the intelligent and firm expression on the face of the minister of war, apparently, habitually and consciously changed: on his face there was a stupid, feigned, not hiding his pretense, smile of a man who receives many petitioners one after another .
- From General Field Marshal Kutuzov? - he asked. “Good news, I hope?” Was there a collision with Mortier? Victory? It's time!
He took the dispatch, which was in his name, and began to read it with a sad expression.
- Oh my god! My God! Schmit! he said in German. What a misfortune, what a misfortune!
Having run through the dispatch, he laid it on the table and looked at Prince Andrei, apparently thinking something.
- Oh, what a misfortune! Deal, you say, decisive? Mortier is not taken, however. (He thought.) I am very glad that you brought good news, although the death of Schmitt is a dear price for victory. His Majesty will certainly wish to see you, but not today. Thank you, take a rest. Be at the exit after the parade tomorrow. However, I will let you know.
The stupid smile that had disappeared during the conversation reappeared on the face of the Minister of War.
- Goodbye, thank you very much. Sovereign Emperor will probably wish to see you,” he repeated and bowed his head.
When Prince Andrei left the palace, he felt that all the interest and happiness brought to him by victory had now been abandoned by him and transferred into the indifferent hands of the Minister of War and the courteous adjutant. His whole frame of mind instantly changed: the battle seemed to him a long-standing, distant memory.

Prince Andrei stayed in Brunn with his acquaintance, the Russian diplomat Bilibin.

Anatole France
Anatole France
267x400px
Name at birth:	François Anatole Thibault
Aliases:
Full name	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Date of Birth:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Place of Birth:
Date of death:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
A place of death:
Citizenship (citizenship):	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Occupation:
Years of creativity:	With Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value). By Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Direction:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Genre:	short story, novel
Art language:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Debut:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Prizes:
Awards:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Signature:	Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).
[[Lua error in Module:Wikidata/Interproject on line 17: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value). |Artworks]] in Wikisource
Lua error in Module:Wikidata on line 170: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).

Lua error in Module:CategoryForProfession on line 52: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).

Biography

Anatole France's father was the owner of a bookstore that specialized in literature on the history of the French Revolution. Anatole France hardly graduated from the Jesuit College, where he studied extremely reluctantly, and, having failed several times in his final exams, he passed them only at the age of 20.

Since 1866, Anatole France was forced to earn a living himself, and began his career as a bibliographer. Gradually, he gets acquainted with the literary life of that time, and becomes one of the prominent participants in the Parnassian school.

Anatole France died in 1924. After his death, his brain was examined by French anatomists, who, in particular, found that his mass was 1017 g. He was buried in the cemetery in Neuilly-sur-Seine.

Social activity

In 1898 Frans took the most active part in the Dreyfus Affair. Influenced by Marcel Proust, France was the first to sign Émile Zola's famous manifesto letter.

From that time on, Frans became a prominent figure in the reformist, and later the socialist camp, took part in the organization of public universities, lectured to workers, and participated in rallies organized by leftist forces. France becomes a close friend of the socialist leader Jean Jaurès and a literary master of the French Socialist Party.

Creation

Early work

The novel that brought him fame, "The Crime of Sylvester Bonnard" (fr.)Russian, published in 1881, is a satire that favors frivolity and kindness over harsh virtue.

In subsequent novels and stories by Frans, with great erudition and subtle psychological instinct, the spirit of different historical eras is recreated. "Queen Crow's Feet Tavern" (fr.)Russian(1893) - a satirical story in the style of the 18th century, with the original central figure of Abbé Jerome Coignard: he is pious, but leads a sinful life and justifies his "falls" by the fact that they strengthen the spirit of humility in him. The same Abbé France deduces in Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard (1893) in Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard.

In a number of stories, in particular, in the collection "Mother-of-Pearl Casket" (fr.)Russian(1892), Frans discovers a vivid fantasy; his favorite topic is the juxtaposition of pagan and Christian worldviews in stories from the first centuries of Christianity or the early Renaissance. The best examples of this kind are "Saint Satyr". In this he had a certain influence on Dmitry Merezhkovsky. Roman "Tais" (fr.)Russian(1890) - the story of a famous ancient courtesan who became a saint - written in the same spirit of a mixture of Epicureanism and Christian charity.

Characteristics of the worldview from the encyclopedia of Brockhaus and Efron

Frans is a philosopher and poet. His worldview is reduced to refined epicureanism. He is the sharpest of the French critics of modern reality, without any sentimentality revealing the weaknesses and moral falls of human nature, the imperfection and ugliness of social life, morals, relations between people; but in his criticism he introduces a special reconciliation, philosophical contemplation and serenity, a warming feeling of love for weak humanity. He does not judge or moralize, but only penetrates into the meaning of negative phenomena. This combination of irony with love for people, with an artistic understanding of beauty in all manifestations of life, is a characteristic feature of Frans' works. The humor of Frans lies in the fact that his hero applies the same method to the study of the most heterogeneous phenomena. The same historical criterion by which he judges events in ancient Egypt serves him to judge the Dreyfus case and its impact on society; the same analytical method with which he proceeds to abstract scientific questions helps him explain the act of his wife who cheated on him and, having understood it, calmly leave, without judging, but not forgiving either.

Quotes

"Religions, like chameleons, take on the color of the soil on which they live."

"There is no magic stronger than the magic of the word."

Compositions

Modern History (L'Histoire contemporaine)

• Under the city elms (L'Orme du mail, 1897).
• Willow mannequin (Le Mannequin d'osier, 1897).
• Amethyst ring (L'Anneau d'améthyste, 1899).
• Mr. Bergeret in Paris (Monsieur Bergeret à Paris, 1901).

Autobiographical cycle

• My friend's book (Le Livre de mon ami, 1885).
• Pierre Nozière (1899).
• Little Pierre (Le Petit Pierre, 1918).
• Life in Bloom (La Vie en fleur, 1922).

Novels

• Jocasta (Jocaste, 1879).
• "Skinny Cat" (Le Chat maigre, 1879).
• Crime of Sylvester Bonnard (Le Crime de Sylvestre Bonnard, 1881).
• Passion of Jean Servien (Les Désirs de Jean Servien, 1882).
• Count Abel (Abeille, conte, 1883).
• Thais (Thais, 1890).
• Tavern of Queen Goose Feet (La Rôtisserie de la reine Pédauque, 1892).
• Jérôme Coignard's judgments (Les Opinions de Jérôme Coignard, 1893).
• Red lily (Le Lys rouge, 1894).
• Epicurus Garden (Le Jardin d'Épicure, 1895).
• Theatrical History (Histoires comiques, 1903).
• On a white stone (Sur la pierre blanche, 1905).
• Penguin Island (L'Île des Pingouins, 1908).
• The Gods Thirst (Les dieux ont soif, 1912).
• Rise of the Angels (La Révolte des anges, 1914).

Novels collections

• Balthasar (Balthasar, 1889).
• Mother-of-pearl casket (L'Étui de nacre, 1892).
• Well of St. Clare (Le Puits de Sainte Claire, 1895).
• Clio (Clio, 1900).
• Procurator of Judea (Le Procurateur de Judée, 1902).
• Crainquebille, Putois, Riquet and many other useful stories (L'Affaire Crainquebille, 1901).
• The Stories of Jacques Tournebroche (Les Contes de Jacques Tournebroche, 1908).
• The Seven Wives of Bluebeard (Les Sept Femmes de Barbe bleue et autres contes merveilleux, 1909).

Dramaturgy

• What the hell is not kidding (Au petit bonheur, un acte, 1898).
• Crainquebille (pièce, 1903).
• Willow Mannequin (Le Mannequin d'osier, comédie, 1908).
• A comedy about a man who married a mute (La Comédie de celui qui épousa une femme muette, deux actes, 1908).

Essay

• Life of Joan of Arc (Vie de Jeanne d'Arc, 1908).
• Literary life (Critique littéraire).
• Latin genius (Le Génie latin, 1913).

Poetry

• Golden Poems (Poèmes dorés, 1873).
• Corinthian wedding (Les Noces corinthiennes, 1876).

Publication of works in Russian translation

• France A. Collected Works in eight volumes. - M .: State publishing house of fiction, 1957-1960.
• France A. Collected works in four volumes. - M .: Fiction, 1983-1984.

Write a review on the article "France, Anatole"

Notes

Literature

• Likhodzievskiy S.I. Anatole France [Text]: Essay on creativity. Tashkent: Goslitizdat UzSSR, 1962. - 419 p.

Links

• - A selection of articles by A. V. Lunacharsky
• Trykov V.P.. Electronic Encyclopedia "Modern French Literature" (2011). Retrieved December 12, 2011. .

Lua error in Module:External_links on line 245: attempt to index field "wikibase" (a nil value).

An excerpt characterizing Frans, Anatole

Stella "frozen" stood in a stupor, unable to make even the slightest movement, and with rounded eyes, like large saucers, she observed this incredible beauty that unexpectedly fell from somewhere ...
Suddenly, the air around us shook violently, and a luminous being appeared right in front of us. It was very similar to my old "crowned" star friend but it was clearly someone else. After recovering from the shock and taking a closer look at him, I realized that he did not look like my old friends at all. It’s just that the first impression “fixed” the same hoop on the forehead and similar power, but otherwise there was nothing in common between them. All the "guests" that had come to see me before had been tall, but this being was very tall, probably somewhere around a full five meters. His strange glittering clothes (if they could be called that) fluttered all the time, scattering sparkling crystal tails behind him, although not the slightest breeze was felt around him. Long, silver hair shone with a strange lunar halo, creating the impression of "eternal cold" around his head ... And his eyes were such that it would never be better to look at them! .. Before I saw them, even in the wildest fantasy it was impossible imagine such eyes!.. They were an incredibly bright pink color and sparkled with a thousand diamond stars, as if lit up every time he looked at someone. It was completely unusual and breathtakingly beautiful ...
From him breathed mysterious distant space and something else that my little childish brain was not yet able to comprehend ...
The creature raised its hand, turned to us with its palm, and mentally said:
- I'm Eli. You are not ready to come - come back ...
Naturally, I was immediately wildly interested in who it was, and I really wanted to somehow keep him at least for a short time.
- Not ready for what? I asked as calmly as I could.
- Come back home. he answered.
From him emanated (as it seemed to me then) incredible power and at the same time some strange deep warmth of loneliness. I wished he never left, and suddenly I felt so sad that tears welled up in my eyes...
“You will return,” he said, as if answering my sad thoughts. - Only it won't be soon... And now go away.
The glow around him grew brighter... and much to my chagrin, he disappeared...
The sparkling huge “spiral” continued to shine for some time, and then it began to crumble and completely melted, leaving behind only deep night.
Stella finally “woke up” from the shock, and everything around her immediately shone with a cheerful light, surrounding us with bizarre flowers and colorful birds, which her amazing imagination hurried to create as soon as possible, apparently wanting to get rid of the oppressive impression of eternity that had fallen on us as soon as possible.
“Do you think it’s me…?” Still unable to believe what had happened, I whispered dumbfounded.
- Certainly! - the little girl chirped again in a cheerful voice. “That's what you wanted, right? It is so huge and scary, though very beautiful. I would never live there! – with full confidence declared she.
And I could not forget that incredibly huge and so attractively majestic beauty, which, now I knew for sure, would forever become my dream, and the desire to return there someday would haunt me for a long time, long years until, one day, I finally find my real, lost HOME ...
- Why are you sad? You've done so well! Stella exclaimed in surprise. Do you want me to show you something else?
She conspiratorially wrinkled her nose, which made her look like a cute, funny little monkey.
And again everything turned upside down, "landing" us in some crazy-bright "parrot" world ... in which thousands of birds screamed wildly and this abnormal cacophony made our heads spin.
- Oh! - Stella laughed loudly, - not so!
And immediately there was a pleasant silence ... We were "naughty" together for a long time, now alternately creating funny, funny, fairy-tale worlds, which really turned out to be quite easy. I couldn't tear myself away from all this. unearthly beauty and from the crystal-clear, amazing girl Stella, who carried a warm and joyful light in herself, and with whom I sincerely wanted to stay close forever ...
But real life, unfortunately, called back to “fall to the Earth” and I had to say goodbye, not knowing if I would ever be able to see it again at least for a moment.
Stella looked with her large, round eyes, as if wanting and not daring to ask something ... Then I decided to help her:
- Do you want me to come again? – I asked with hidden hope.
Her funny face again shone with all shades of joy:
"Are you really coming?" she squeaked happily.
“Really, really, I’ll come ...” I firmly promised ...

Overwhelmed with everyday worries, days turned into weeks, and I still couldn't find free time to visit my cute little friend. I thought about her almost every day and swore to myself that tomorrow I would definitely find the time to at least a couple of hours "take my soul" with this wonderful bright little man ... And also one more, very strange thought did not give me peace - very I wanted to introduce Stella's grandmother to her no less interesting and unusual grandmother... For some inexplicable reason, I was sure that both these wonderful women would certainly find something to talk about...
So, finally, one fine day, I suddenly decided that it was enough to put off everything “for tomorrow” and, although I was not at all sure that Stella’s grandmother would be there today, I decided that it would be wonderful if today I finally visit my new girlfriend, well, and if you're lucky, then I'll introduce our dear grandmothers to each other.
Some strange force was literally pushing me out of the house, as if someone from afar was very gently and, at the same time, very persistently calling me mentally.
I quietly approached my grandmother and, as usual, began to spin around her, trying to think of a better way to present all this to her.
- Well, let's go or something? .. - Grandma asked calmly.
I stared at her dumbfounded, not understanding how she could know that I was going somewhere at all ?!.
Grandmother smiled slyly and, as if nothing had happened, asked:
“What, don’t you want to walk with me?”
In my soul, indignant at such an unceremonious intrusion into my “private mental world,” I decided to “test” my grandmother.
- Well, of course I want to! I exclaimed happily, and without saying where we were going, I headed for the door.
- Take a sweater, we'll be back late - it will be cool! Grandmother shouted after her.
I couldn't stand it any longer...
"And how do you know where we're going?" – ruffled like a frozen sparrow, I grumbled offendedly.
So everything is written on your face, - grandmother smiled.
Of course, this was not written on my face, but I would give a lot to find out how she always knew everything so confidently when it came to me?
A few minutes later we were already stomping together towards the forest, enthusiastically chatting about the most diverse and incredible stories, which she, of course, knew much more than I did, and this was one of the reasons why I loved walking with her so much.
We were just the two of us, and there was no need to be afraid that someone would overhear and someone might not like what we were talking about.
Grandmother very easily accepted all my oddities, and was never afraid of anything; and sometimes, if she saw that I was completely “lost” in something, she gave me advice that helped me get out of this or that undesirable situation, but most often she simply watched how I react to life difficulties that have already become permanent, without the end that came across on my "spiky" path. Recently, it began to seem to me that my grandmother was just waiting for something new to come across to see if I had matured at least a heel, or if I was still “boiling” in my “ happy childhood”, not wanting to get out of a short children's shirt. But even for her “cruel” behavior, I loved her very much and tried to use every convenient moment to spend time together with her as often as possible.
The forest greeted us with the friendly rustle of golden autumn foliage. The weather was excellent, and one could hope that my new acquaintance, by "lucky chance", would also be there.
I picked a small bouquet of some modest autumn flowers that still remained, and in a few minutes we were already near the cemetery, at the gates of which ... the same miniature sweet old woman was sitting in the same place ...
“And I thought I couldn’t wait for you!” she happily greeted.
I literally “jaw dropped” from such a surprise, and at that moment I apparently looked rather stupid, as the old woman, laughing merrily, came up to us and gently patted me on the cheek.
- Well, you go, dear, Stella has already been waiting for you. And we'll sit here for a while...
I didn’t even have time to ask how I would get to the same Stella, how everything disappeared somewhere again, and I found myself in the already familiar, sparkling and iridescent world of exuberant Stella’s fantasy, and, not having had time to look around better, right there heard an enthusiastic voice:
“Oh, it’s good that you came! And I was waiting, waiting!
The girl flew up to me like a whirlwind and slapped me right on my hands... a little red "dragon"... I recoiled in surprise, but immediately laughed merrily, because it was the most amusing and funny creature in the world!...
The "dragon", if you can call it that, bulged its tender pink belly and hissed at me menacingly, apparently hoping to scare me in this way. But, when I saw that no one was going to be scared here, he calmly sat down on my lap and began to snore peacefully, showing how good he is and how much you need to love him ...
I asked Stela what his name was and how long ago she created it.
Oh, I haven't even thought of a name yet! And he showed up right now! Do you really like him? the girl chirped cheerfully, and I felt that she was pleased to see me again.
- This is for you! she suddenly said. He will live with you.
The little dragon stretched out its spiky muzzle funny, apparently deciding to see if I had something interesting ... And suddenly licked me right on the nose! Stella squealed with delight and was obviously very pleased with her work.
“Well, okay,” I agreed, “as long as I'm here, he can be with me.
"Won't you take him with you?" Stella was surprised.
And then I realized that she, apparently, does not know at all that we are “different”, and that we no longer live in the same world. Most likely, the grandmother, in order to feel sorry for her, did not tell the girl the whole truth, and she sincerely thought that this was exactly the same world in which she used to live, with the only difference being that now she could still create her own world...
I knew for sure that I didn't want to be the one to tell this trusting little girl what her life is really like today. She was satisfied and happy in this "her" fantastic reality, and I mentally swore to myself that I would never and never be the one who destroys this reality of hers. fairy world. I just couldn’t understand how my grandmother explained the sudden disappearance of her entire family and, in general, everything in which she now lived? ..
“You see,” I said with a slight hesitation, smiling, “where I live, dragons are not very popular ....
So no one will see him! - the little girl chirped cheerfully.
It was like a mountain off my shoulders! .. I hated to lie or get out, and especially in front of such a clean little man as Stella was. It turned out that she perfectly understood everything and somehow managed to combine the joy of creation and sadness from the loss of her relatives.
“I finally found a friend here!” the little girl declared triumphantly.
- Oh, well? .. Will you ever introduce me to him? I was surprised.
She nodded her fluffy red head amusingly and slyly narrowed her eyes.
- Do you want it right now? - I felt that she was literally "fidgeting" in place, unable to contain her impatience any longer.
"Are you sure he wants to come?" I got worried.
Not because I was afraid of someone or embarrassed, I just didn’t have the habit of disturbing people without a particularly important reason, and I wasn’t sure that right now this reason was serious ... But Stella was apparently in this I am absolutely sure, because literally in a fraction of a second a person appeared next to us.
He was a very sad knight... Yes, yes, exactly a knight!.. And I was very surprised that even in this "other" world, where he could "put on" any energy parted with his severe knightly appearance, in which he apparently still remembered himself very well ... And for some reason I thought that he must have had some very serious reasons for this, even if after so many years he did not want to part with this appearance.