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ponkapog papers-第9章

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ation de la catastrophe le saisit。 L'effrayant 18 juin revit; la fausse colline…monument s'efface; ce lion quelconque se dissipe; le champ de bataille reprend sa realite; des lignes d'infanterie ondulent dans la plaine; des galops furieux traversent l'horizon; le songeur effare voit l'eclair des sabres; l'etincelle des bayonnettes; le flamboiement des bombes; l'entre…croisement monstrueux des tonnerres; il en… tend; comme un rale au fond d'une tombe; la clameur vague de la bataille…fantome; ces ombres; ce sont les grenadiers; ces lueurs; ce sont les cuirassiers; 。 。 。 tout cela n'est plus et se heurte et combat encore; et les ravins s'empourprent; et les arbres frissonnent; et il y a de la furie jusque dans les nuees; et; dans les tenebres; toutes ces hauteurs farouches; Mont…Saint… Jean; Hougomont; Frischemont; Papelotte; Plance… noit; apparaissent confusement couronnees de tour… billons de spectres s'exterminant。 

     Here is the whole battle scene in 〃L'Aiglon;〃 with scarcely a gruesome detail omitted。  The vast plain glimmering in phantasmal light; the ghostly squadrons hurling themselves against

      The field of Waterloo has to…day the peacefulness which be… longs to earth; the impassive support of man; and is like all other plains。  At night; however; a kind of visionary mist is exhaled; and if any traveler walks there; and watches and listens; and dreams like Virgil on the sorrowful plains of Philippi; the hallu… cination of the catastrophe takes possession of him。  The terrible June 18 relives; the artificial commemorative mound effaces itself; the lion disappears; the field of battle assumes its reality; lines of infantry waver on the plain; the horizon is broken by furious charges of cavalry; the alarmed dreamer sees the gleam of sabres; the glimmer of bayonets; the lurid glare of bursting shells; the clashing of mighty thunderbolts; the muffled clamor of the phantom conflict comes to him like dying moans from the tomb; these shadows are grenadiers; these lights are cuirassiers 。 。 。 all this does not really exist; yet the combat goes on; the ravines are stained with purple; the trees tremble; there is fury even in the clouds; and in the obscurity the sombre heightsMont Saint… Jean; Hougomont; Frischemont; Papelotte; and Plancenoitap… pear dimly crowned with throngs of apparitions annihilating one another。

One another (seen only through the eyes of the poor little Duke of Reichstadt); the mangled shapes lying motionless in various postures of death upon the blood…stained sward; the moans of the wounded rising up and sweeping by like vague wailings of the windall this might be taken for an artful appropriation of Victor Hugo's text; but I do not think it was; though it is possible that a faint reflection of a brilliant page; read in early youth; still lingered on the retina of M。 Rostand's memory。  If such were the case; it does not necessarily detract from the integrity of the conception or the playwright's presentment of it。      The idea of repeopling old battlefields with the shades of vanished hosts is not novel。  In such tragic spots the twilight always lays a dark hand on the imagination; and prompts one to invoke the unappeased spirit of the past that haunts the place。  One summer evening long ago; as I was standing alone by the ruined walls of Hougomont; with that sense of not being alone which is sometimes so strangely stirred by solitude; I had a sudden vision of that desperate last charge of Napoleon's Old Guard。  Marshal Ney rose from the grave and again shouted those heroic words to Drouet d'Erlon: 〃Are you not going to get yourself killed?〃  For an instant a thousand sabres flashed in the air。  The deathly silence that accompanied the ghostly onset was an added poignancy to the short…lived dream。  A moment later I beheld a hunched little figure mounted on a white horse with housings of purple velvet。  The reins lay slack in the rider's hand; his three…cornered hat was slouched over his brows; and his chin rested on the breast of his great…coat。  Thus he slowly rode away through the twilight; and nobody cried; Vive l'Empereur!      The ground on which a famous battle has been fought casts a spell upon every man's mind; and the impression made upon two men of poetic genius; like Victor Hugo and Edmond Rostand; might well be nearly identical。  This sufficiently explains the likeness between the fantastic silhouette in 〃Les Miserables〃 and the battle of the ghosts in 〃L'Aiglon。〃  A muse so rich in the improbable as M。 Rostand's need not borrow a piece of supernaturalness from anybody。



PLOT AND CHARACTER

HENRY JAMES; in his paper on Anthony Trollope; says that if Trollope 〃had taken sides on the rather superficial opposition between novels of character and novels of plot; I can imagine him to have said (except that he never expressed himself in epigram) that he preferred the former class; inasmuch as character in itself is plot; while plot is by no means character。〃 So neat an antithesis would surely never have found itself between Mr。 Trollope's lips if Mr。 James had not cunningly lent it to him。  What… ever theory of novel…writing Mr。 Trollope may have preached; his almost invariable practice was to have a plot。  He always had a story to tell; and a story involves beginning; middle; and endin short; a framework of some description。      There have been delightful books filled wholly with character…drawing; but they have not been great novels。  The great novel deals with human action as well as with mental portraiture and analysis。  That 〃character in itself is plot〃 is true only in a limited sense。  A plan; a motive with a logical conclusion; is as necessary to a novel or a romance as it is to a drama。  A group of skillfully made…up men and women lounging in the green…room or at the wings is not the play。  It is not enough to say that this is Romeo and that Lady Macbeth。  It is not enough to inform us that certain passions are supposed to be embodied in such and such persons: these persons should be placed in situations develop… ing those passions。  A series of unrelated scenes and dialogues leading to nothing is inadequate。      Mr。 James's engaging epigram seems to me vulnerable at both endsunlike Achilles。 〃Plot is by no means character。〃  Strictly speaking; it is not。  It appears to me; however; that plot approaches nearer to being character than character does to being plot。  Plot necessi… tates action; and it is impossible to describe a man's actions' under whatever conditions; with… out revealing something of his character; his way of looking at things; his moral and mental pose。  What a hero of fiction does paints him better than what he says; and vastly better than anything his creator may say of him。  Mr。 James asserts that 〃we care what happens to people only in proportion as we know what people are。〃  I think we care very little what people are (in fiction) when we do not know what happens to them。


THE CRUELTY OF SCIENCE

IN the process of their experiments upon the bodies of living animals some anatomists do not; I fear; sufficiently realize that

     The poor beetle; that we tread upon;      In corporal sufferance; finds a pang as great      As when a giant dies。

I am not for a moment challenging the neces… sity of vivisection; though distinguished sur… geons have themselves challenged it; I merely contend that science is apt to be cold…hearted; and does not seem always to take into consider… ation the tortures she inflicts in her search for knowledge。      Just now; in turning over the leaves of an old number of the 〃London Lancet;〃 I came upon the report of a lecture on experimental physiology delivered by Professor William Rutherford be… fore a learned association in London。  Though the type had become antiquated and the paper yellowed in the lapse of years; the pathos of those pages was alive and palpitating。      The following passages from the report will illustrate not unfairly the point I am making。 In the course of his remarks the lecturer ex… hibited certain interesting experiments on living frogs。  Intellectually I go very strongly for Pro… fessor Rutherford; but I am bound to confess that the weight of my sympathy rests 
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