This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By FRANCOIS COPPEE
With a Preface by JOSE DE HEREDIA, of the French Academy
FRANCOIS EDOUARD JOACHIM COPPEE was born in Paris, January 12, 1842. Hisfather was a minor 'employe' in the French War Office; and, as the familyconsisted of six the parents, three daughters, and a son (the subject ofthis essay)—the early years of the poet were not spent in great luxury.After the father's death, the young man himself entered the governmentaloffice with its monotonous work. In the evening he studied hard at St.Genevieve Library. He made rhymes, had them even printed (Le Reliquaire,1866); but the public remained indifferent until 1869, when his comedy inverse, 'Le Passant', appeared. From this period dates the reputation ofCoppee—he woke up one morning a "celebrated man."
Like many of his countrymen, he is a poet, a dramatist, a novelist, and awriter of fiction. He was elected to the French Academy in 1884. Smoothshaven, of placid figure, with pensive eyes, the hair brushed backregularly, the head of an artist, Coppee can be seen any day looking overthe display of the Parisian secondhand booksellers on the Quai Malaquais;at home on the writing-desk, a page of carefully prepared manuscript, yetsometimes covered by cigarette-ashes; upon the wall, sketches by JulesLefebvre and Jules Breton; a little in the distance, the gaunt form ofhis attentive sister and companion, Annette, occupied with householdcares, ever fearful of disturbing him. Within this tranquil domicile canbe heard the noise of the Parisian faubourg with its thousand differentdins; the bustle of the street; the clatter of a factory; the voice ofthe workshop; the cries of the pedlers intermingled with the chimes ofthe bells of a near-by convent-a confusing buzzing noise, which theauthor, however, seems to enjoy; for Coppee is Parisian by birth,Parisian by education, a Parisian of the Parisians.
If as a poet we contemplate him, Coppee belongs to the group commonlycalled "Parnassiens"—not the Romantic School, the sentimental lyriceffusion of Lamartine, Hugo, or De Musset! When the poetical lute waslaid aside by the triad of 1830, it was taken up by men of quitedifferent stamp, of even opposed tendencies. Observation of exteriormatters was now greatly adhered to in poetry; it became especiallydescriptive and scientific; the aim of every poet was now to render mostexactly, even minutely, the impressions received, or faithfully totranslate into artistic language a thesis of philosophy, a discovery ofscience. With such a poetical doctrine, you will easily understand theimportance which the "naturalistic form" henceforth assumed.
Coppee, however, is not only a maker of verses, he is an artist and apoet. Every poem seems to have sprung from a genuine inspiration. Whenhe sings, it is because he has something to sing about, and the result isthat his poetry is nearly always interesting. Moreover, he respects thelimits of his art; for while his friend and contemporary, M. Sully-Prudhomme, goes astray habitually into philosophical speculation, and hisimmortal senior, Victor Hugo, often declaims, if one may venture to sayso, in a manner which is tedious, Coppee sticks rigorously to what may becalled the proper regions of poetry.
Francois Coppee is not one of those superb high pries