| Extravagant,
unbelievable, unreal, surreal, strange
are the adjectives which apply, and,
unlike most of Sand's fictional creations,
there is no one logical explanation
which the reader must accept. He is
quite free to choose the fantastic
interpretation.
While
in his poorly titled but stimulating
volume Voyage dans le cristal
(containing not just the subtitle
for Laura and that novel, but
also four of the Contes d'une grand'mère,
La Coupe, and an "annexe" of
small pertinent texts), Francis Lacassin
has declared: "L'oeuvre fantastique
de George Sand se reconnaît
enfin à une disposition assez
rare: la triple absence de la mort
(violente), l'horreur et la peur,
ces trois auxiliaires dévoués
du surnatural" (28). We beg to differ
slightly: not only is there horror
to imaginative children (and adults)
in "Le Géant Yéous"
(1), which he also mentions as fantastic,
but there seems to be fear on the
part of Mouny-Robin when he leaves,
forbidding the young men to accompany
him. Later in the work, his death,
though not immediate, has also been
caused by a violent happening.
But
let us return to details of Mouny-Robin's
creation. George Sand spoke little
about the work, other than of its
publications, from the Sand correspondence
Georges Lubin has made available.
Lubin does mention he is in disagreement
with Wladimir Karénine asserting
that the prototype for Mouny-Robin
was a Nohant servant named Jeanny;
he adds that it was probably "un nommé
Mouny, dont (Hippolyte) Chatiron disait
dans une lettre du 11 avril (1844):
"Mouny en est quitte pour 19
f. et son fusil; il doit en remercier
Simonet qui l'a bien défendu
et a tourné la questionâ" (Sand,
Corr., VI 557 n4).
The
work was first published in the Revue
des deux mondes on June 15, 1841
(Lubin, Sand Corr., V 207,
279). It was next published by Hippolyte
Souverain in Volume VII of Le Foyer
de l'Opéra with "Melchior"
and "Jean-Jacques Rousseau" (V 895).
Then it appeared with Pauline
and Les Majorcains at the end
of Volume XIV of the Perrotin edition
of the Oeuvres complètes
in 1843 (IX 335).
Mouny-Robin
differs from other texts dealing with
Berrichon peasants in that, as its
point of departure, there is a vivid
discussion of Carl Maria von Weber's
Der Freischütz (1821)
prior to Sand's introduction to hunting
in la Vallée Noire. To her
contemporaries, the parallels were
obvious, but to twentieth-century
readers, unaware of the tremendous
popularity of the Weber opera in Paris
after December 7, 1824 (Marix-Spire
24 n41) this is not always the case.
The plot concerns a marksman, Max,
who accepts help from Samiel, the
Evil one, to become successor to the
head game-keeper and to win his daughter
Agnès in marriage. The contests
which Max must win are those of sharp-shooting.
Aside
from hunting and from possible help
from the devil trying to gain a soul,
Sand's hero is different from the
protagonist of Weber's plot, which
derives, moreover, from an old German
legend. Her use of Weber's music and
the theatrical production as her deliberate
beginning, as well as at later moments,
show her sure hand at fictional techniques
and convince her readers of not only
her but their own sophistications.
She draws her audience by an argument
between a bourgeois Frenchman and
a "bon Allemand" at the Second Act
of the opera; then has the argument
commented on by a narrator, speaking
in the first person, between acts,
with a "spectateur cosmopolite." Sand
often uses this dialogue approach,
both in her journalism and in her
fiction, perhaps to distance herself
from her readers, but more probably
as a means of showing various sides
to questions and later for convincing,
by the strength of her narrator's
reasoning. She pulls her readers into
thinking that they, too, are more
knowledgeable than the first middle
class discussants; and she flatters
their curiosity first by establishing
their superiority in judgment and
then by leading them into speculation
about how common folk are quite naturally
closer to legends and fables and traditions
than cultivated individuals, who are
much too rational.
The
use Sand makes of nationality differences
between French and Germans is actually
quite good: she has her intellectual
knowledge well in hand. She distinguishes
the German as auditory and the French
as visual. Then she denotes the French
as insisting on truth (la vérité),
while the German seeks fantasy, the
embellishment of truth, about which
she has her narrator add: |
| The
method Sand uses to present Mouny,
(unlike "les sorciers," who are always
reputed to be nasty and harmful) is
to show him gentle and obliging even
though he is "vu de mauvais oeil"
(258). The narrator tells how he first
began their relations when, one day
trying to avoid a long detour, he
and a younger boy were afraid to attempt
crossing a very wide ditch filled
with water and mud. Seeing Mouny,
and not really believing the legend,
he had suggested: "Si tu es un brave
sorcier, fais-mois passer par le meilleur
chemin puisque tu me connais" (258).
Mouny, satisfied by this deference,
took them safely across, and, from
that time on, showed the narrator
special friendship.
Years
pass. The narrator's brother, back
from military service with a "régiment
de hussards" (261), is passionately
interested in hunting. The narrator,
rather like the author, preferring
country-side pleasures, such as smoking
under the shade of a walnut tree or
reading a novel beside the stream,
willingly accompanies his brother,
who wants to learn from the best hunter,
Mouny. With the unnamed brother, Sand
has now created again another pair
of commentators following 1) the good
German and the bourgeois Frenchman,
2) the narrator and the cosmopolitan
spectator. The third pair permits
the two brothers to share their rational
and irrational feelings about Mouny,
to question and contradict one another,
to show both sides of the interpretations,
while, frequently, Mouny furthers
either side of the interpretation
himself. Sand suggests the deviltries
by the numerous concrete details she
furnishes and the exploitation of
words suggesting more than logical
explanation. Like Casper of The
Enchanted Marksman, "[l]a chasse
l'absorbait tout entier" (260). When
she wants to emphasize the irrational
of Mouny's "sens mystérieux,"
she has a "garde-champêtre"
(of course, a man of the people) announce:
"Un beau jour (Mouny) trouvera son
maître, et Georgeon finira par
le tourer" (George Sand's note: "tourer"
is Berrichon for "terrasser dans une
lutte" (261 n1).
Mouny's
rules for their first hunt also suggest
of the devil, because he insists that
they begin at the hour of the "grand'messe"
(261), that everyone be in the church
before the first shot, and that they
must meet neither girl nor woman.
When they see a shepherdess watching
her sheep, Mouny declares that luck
is against them, and that they will
be two hours without shooting anything.
One
after another, during the four and
one-half years, Mouny's predictions
are astonishingly accurate, be they
about time, the sort of animal or
bird shot, the specific location or
the number, (for example, of birds
to be felled at one moment). Mouny
discredits all references to Georgeon
and bullets which "portent juste"
(262), but, when he says luck will
be with them, when he kills a magpie
but then prohibits them from picking
it up, because "Cela n'est bon qu'à
lever le sort" (262), George Sand,
once again, has destroyed and then
rebuilt a fantasy. She has Mouny insist
"je veux tuer un lièvre, il
faut que je le tue, ce diable de lièvre"
(263). The language can mean nothing;
it also can suggest. She reinforces
her suggestions with the narrator
admitting "Ma foi, je commençais
à croire que Georgeon s'était
mis de la partie" (263).
At
the middle of the story, the two disbelievers
almost believe. But each time Mouny
vociferously denies it, a new possibility
for the devil's participation is advanced.
Is it talent? Is it Georgeon? Where
Mouny's habits do not conform so much
as the brothers had first imagined,
they note with him that there is "une
sorte de divination à l'endroit
de la chasse" (265), and that, at
moments he seems tormented by a sort
of sickness or suffering. When their
dogs chase snakes and hedgehogs, Mouny
forbids shooting these vile animals
saying that it spoiled one's capacities.
Sand again intermingles a peasant
interpretation, that Mouny protected
"
...les mauvaises bêtes vouées
au diable, car Georgeon livre au chasseur
qu'il protège le plus noble
gibier, à condition qu'il respectera
les animaux immondes dont il fait
sa société dans les
nuits de sabbat "(265).
These
animals are owls, wildcats, toads,
foxes, otters, bats, wolves (265).
Furthermore,
when hunting goes poorly, Mouny announces
in a state of extreme agitation: "je
vais me retirer" (265), which he defines
as not stopping hunting but rather
going off, mysteriously, alone. Shortly
after, he returns, trembling all over,
in a state of fatigue, suffering or
fear, and looking as if he had been
"terrassé dans une lutte violente"
(266), the earlier definition of the
berrichon touré. Has
he fought with Georgeon? In his usual
attitude of denial he insists "Rien,
rien, ... Ce n'est rien" (266), and
proclaims that they are going to have
a good hunt. Once again, all his predictions
come true, even the most unbelievable.
The
last elements Sand introduces are
Mouny's insistence his wife should
know nothing about how and where they
hunt, because women, knowing more
than just what they've bagged in game,
bring bad luck. This enables the narrator
to re-state that if Mouny didn't believe
in the devil and bad spirits, and
wasn't superstitious, he did believe
in good or harmful influences. And
the narrator points out his science
of instinct or of observation (268).
But Sand undermines her own ideas
when the others question Mouny only
to find that he is cleverer than they,
while his answers are "evasive" (268).
Mouny's sort of fits continue, but,
when the young men sneak around to
observe him secretly, they say his
brief attacks are not epilepsy (he
doesn't foam at the mouth or moan),
that they are nervousness: "une agitation
convulsive, un étouffement
pénible, quelque chose de plus
douloureux qu'effrayant à voir"
(269).
At
the very moment the author seems to
have little more to add, Sand has
her narrator detail Mouny's mysterious
sensual gifts, his faculty of "seconde
vue" (271), or of "odorat porté
jusquâ'à la puissance canine"
(271). The tale-teller expounds at
great length on mysterious qualities
of the mind, on magnetism, and, as
a humorous note (on the part of Sand
perhaps mocking herself), he ends
by putting the cosmopolitan spectator
to sleep. Sand thus cleverly brings
everyone back to the Freischütz
by having the narrator wake his neighbor
from deep slumber to hear Weber's
admirable finale.
Still
the story has not come a full circle.
The wakened spectator's suggestion
that they go afterward to the celebrated
Café Tortoni for the end of
the story of Mouny-Robin/Gaspard and
of Georgeon-Samiel is a nice means
of equalizing the two works.
The
narrator declines the invitation to
a place whose influences are contrary
to those his story should produce,
but he counter-proposes a walk in
the open air, under the light of the
moon. There he reveals how Mouny,
unlike Max, is not freed from Samiel/Georgeon,
but rather falls (for no explainable
reason, because he never drinks) under
the wheel of the mill, and is so seriously
injured that, six months later, he
dies. Everyone around, including Jeanne
his wife, agrees that he has been
touré (275) by Georgeon,
which, to his very end, Mouny has
continued to deny.
The
description of Mouny's accident is
rapid and brutal, though in no way
does it equal the horror of a tale
by Edgar Allan Poe. At the same time,
we are told other details to allow
rational reactions: Jeanne has taken
as her lover "un gros garçon
du moulin, noir, rauque et crépu"
(276), but Mouny had never shown any
jealousy and had openly announced:
"Jeanne est beaucoup plus jeune que
moi [...] Elle est jolie; je l'ai
toujours négligée [...]
Je l'aime de tout mon coeur mais j'aime
encore mieux la chasse" (276). It
is not presumable then that he was
assassinated by his rival, and Jeanne
had had everything to lose in losing
him as her husband. Was it somnambulism
or a cateleptic fit? "Quoi qu'il en
soit, sa fin a été mystérieuse
comme sa vie" (276). And Sand has
her narrator conclude that the Germans
don't have the monopoly on the fantastic,
for country people in France are just
as inclined toward the fantastic as
those in other lands.
In
our estimation, George Sand (with
this novella) was realizing something
which she had actually criticized
as lacking in French literature. In
the first pages she had spoken of
Shakespeare, Byron, Goethe, Mickiewicz,
the mythical Ossian and Walter Scott
as examples of their respective national
literatures, and had stated flatly:
Nous
n'avons rien de semblable. Nos superstitions
nont point eu d'illustres interprètes
et n'en auront pas; l'esprit voltairien
leur a porté le dernier coup,
et notre moderne école fantastique
n'a été qu'une pâle
imitation de celles de nos voisins.
Elle na rien produit de durable (253).
Wasn't
this tale perhaps an attempt by Sand
to produce a literary piece that was
"durable"? As we all know, she would
go on to create her Légendes
rustiques, which would exploit
Berrichon folklore in all its richness,
and she would later write a fantastic
play Le Drac. A few years before
her death, she wrote "Le Géant
Yéous" and "Les Orgues du Titan."
What
George Sand did with Mouny-Robin was
extremely clever: the background of
a popular opera with music she had
loved (and had already mentioned in
the early Lettres d'un voyageur),
three sets of counter-exchanges and
dialogues surrounding a hero whose
life and death can be whatever the
reader chooses to interpret. Mouny-Robin
ends, living not "happily every after"
like Max and Agnès. With a
Sandian touch of rustic realism, Mouny's
wife Jeanne, the apparently minor
love object, less important than hunting,
appears only in the last moments of
the story. But the reader can also
continue to wonder about the hunter's
accident. Might Jeanne have been the
cause for a suicide wish on the part
of Mouny? Jeanne or Georgeon? George
Sand, with consummate skill has juxtaposed
German fantastic with that of her
own fantastic from Berry.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bornecque,
Pierre. La France et sa littérature.
Lyon: IAC. Éditions de Lyon,
1953.
Kaufman,
Helen, I. The Story of a Hundred
Composers. NY: Grosset & Dunlap,
1943.
Marix-Spire,
Thérèse. Les Romantiques
et la musique: le Cas George Sand
1804-1838.
Paris:
Nouvelles Editions Latines, 1954.
Mendelssohn,
Felix. The Story of a Hundred Operas.
2nd edition. NY: Grosset &
Dunlap,
1940.
Sand,
George. Correspondance. Ed.
Georges Lubin. 23 Vols. Paris: Garnier,
1964.
-----.
Simon, La Marquise, Monsieur Rousset,
Mouny-Robin, Les Sauvages de Paris.
Paris:
Michel Levy frères, 1865.
-----.
Voyage dans le cristal. Préface:
Francis Lacassin. City missing , France:
Union
génerale
d'éditions, 1980. |