The selected poems of one of the most important nineteenth-century French writers, masterfully translated
In his ABC of Reading, Ezra Pound begins his short list of nineteenth-century French poets to be studied with Théophile Gautier. Widely esteemed by figures as diverse as Charles Baudelaire, the Goncourt brothers, Gustave Flaubert, Oscar Wilde, Henry James, and T. S. Eliot, Gautier was one of the nineteenth century’s most prominent French writers, famous for his virtuosity, his inventive textures, and his motto “Art for art’s sake.” His work is often considered a crucial hinge between High Romanticism—idealistic, sentimental, grandiloquent—and the beginnings of “Parnasse,” with its emotional detachment, plasticity, and irresistible surfaces.
His large body of verse, however, is little known outside France. This generous sampling, anchored by the complete Émaux et Camées, perhaps Gautier’s supreme poetic achievement, and including poems from the vigorously exotic España and several early collections, not only succeeds in bringing these poems into English but also rediscovers them, renewing them in the process of translation. Norman Shapiro’s translations have been widely praised for their formal integrity, sonic acuity, tonal sensitivities, and overall poetic qualities, and he employs all these gifts in this collection. Mining one of the crucial treasures of the French tradition, Shapiro makes a major contribution to world letters.
Pierre Jules Théophile Gautier was a French poet, dramatist, novelist, journalist, and literary critic. In the 1830 Revolution, he chose to stay with friends in the Doyenné district of Paris, living a rather pleasant bohemian life. He began writing poetry as early as 1826 but the majority of his life was spent as a contributor to various journals, mainly for La Presse, which also gave him the opportunity for foreign travel and meeting many influential contacts in high society and in the world of the arts, which inspired many of his writings including Voyage en Espagne (1843), Trésors d'Art de la Russie (1858), and Voyage en Russie (1867). He was a celebrated abandonnée of the Romantic Ballet, writing several scenarios, the most famous of which is Giselle. His prestige was confirmed by his role as director of Revue de Paris from 1851-1856. During this time, he became a journalist for Le Moniteur universel, then the editorship of influential review L'Artiste in 1856. His works include: Albertus (1830), La Comédie de la Mort (1838), Une Larme du Diable (1839), Constantinople (1853) and L'Art Moderne (1856)
The broken masts, we kneel to pray! A plank Is all that separates us from the tomb. Perhaps tonight, in white foam's bitter, dank Shroud will we lie, mid lightning's blare and boom!
Glenn and others have been singing Gautier's praise for some time now. Given my enthusiasm for verse at the present, I thought an immersion in his poetry would be timely. I was not disappointed. Many of the pieces are airy and glimmering, exotic even. Venice and Spain dominate the imagination. The seasons, however, remain either winter or spring. Then as one proceeds deeper in the collection, the blinding glare of summer and decomposition dominate.
Gautier is often referred to as a hinge poet, one who straddled a midpoint between the Affirmation of Hugo and the Ennui of Baudelaire. I tend to agree. I can't rave enough about this edition and the magnificent end notes which reflect an incredible feat of erudition.
In the introduction, Mehlman refers to Gautier as a hinge poet, representing the transition from Hugo’s moralism and Baudelaire’s aestheticism. This point is essential – the reader of Gautier’s poetry sees emphasis in both areas, and therefore he serves not only as a bridge, but also an extraordinary contributor to French literature in his own right. He goes on to highlight “Obelisks’ Longings”, its subject matter the Place de la Concorde, as a true masterpiece: Light deadened through a film of lead Nile’s sluggish waves monotonous Glow in a dull sun overhead, Billow with hippopotamus.
A masterpiece it truly is, but it is not my favorite aspect of Gautier’s work. These poems contain moments of exceptional French romantic feeling and aesthetic beauty. A fantastic example is from “Variations on the Carnival in Venice”: Far off, in mists’ deep-echoing gloom, Still have I that pale sadness seen Of last year’s love, gone to its doom, Done, like a dream all but swept clean. (37)
My favorite is “By the Seashore”: The moon, with absentminded hand, From heavens’ height, unthinkingly, Let fall her sequined fan, outspanned, On the blue carpet of the sea.
To take it back she leans a bit, Holds out her silvered arm…Denied, Her white hand grasps it not; for it Goes fleeing off, borne on the tide.
Ah! To return it, Moon, I should Dive to the deeps if, from the sky, You might descend; or even would Plunge skyward, could I climb so high! (345)
Overall, these are intricate poems with the power to describe in magnificent language the subject matter. Events, things, nature, people, and relationships – all are intertwined wonderfully throughout the collection.
Being a big fan of French poetry and only familiar with Gautier through several poems of his in compilations, I jumped at this volume as soon as I saw it. It's a good set of translations and also contains the originals so you can work with the texts themselves. At the end of the day I won't say that now that I'm familiar with him that I would include him in the first rank of 19th century French versifiers. What I will say is that Gautier was a poet as interested in clean, precise technique as he was about substance. Art for art's sake, which clearly points to poets I enjoy much more, particularly Mallarme. I'm not sure if the volume is really all that essential, but it certainly is pleasant. In terms of the actual time frame I much prefer his friend Nerval.