“Conceived as ‘a portrait gallery of foreigners conquered by Enlightenment France,’ Fumaroli’s book provides biographical essays about diverse and fascinating cast of characters. He depicts them all as wonderfully distinct individuals—real people whose eclectic interests, messy love lives and oddball personalities square ill with the lofty philosophical abstractions ‘the Enlightenment’ so often calls to mind. Fumaroli’s Enlightenment is, first and foremost, a wild and woolly human drama, its players every bit as multifaceted (and flawed) as those making headlines today.” — Caroline Weber, The New York Times During the eighteenth century, French culture set the standard for all of Europe. Among kings and queens, diplomats, military leaders, writers, aristocrats, and artists, French was the universal language of politics and intellectual life. In When the World Spoke French, Marc Fumaroli presents a gallery of portraits of Europeans and Americans who conversed and corresponded in French, along with excerpts from their letters or other writings. Their stories are testaments to the appeal of that famous “sweetness of life” nourished by France and its language.
Marc Fumaroli was a scholar of French classical rhetoric and art. He is acknowledged for the revival of Rhetoric as field of study of European culture, in a sharp move away from both structuralism and post-modernism.
He was born in metropolitan France, in Marseille, but he grew up in the Moroccan city of Fez. He was educated at the university of Aix-Marseille and at the Sorbonne. He began his academic career in Lille but continued it it Paris. Following his appointment to a chair in Seventeenth Century Studies at the Sorbonne, he was elected to a chair in Rhetoric and Society in Europe (16th and 17th century) at the Collège de France. He held it from 1986 until mandatory retirement in 2002, and then became an emeritus professor.
He was a member of the British Academy, the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, the Société d'Histoire Littéraire de la France, the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, and the Académie Française. Before being elected a member in 1995, Fumaroli received from the Académie Française the Monseigneur Marcel Prize in 1982 and the Critique Prize in 1992. He was promoted to the title of commander of the French Legion of Honor in 2008, after previously being named chevalier in 1993 and officer in 2002.
After his death on 24 June 2020, the office of French President Emmanuel Macron praised Fumaroli as one of the country's greatest ever storytellers and historians.
Marc Fumaroli, possessor of such fragrant and antique titles as director of the Académie française, member of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres and president of the Société des Amis du Louvre, presents the eighteenth century apex of French cultural dominance of Europe in much the same style and with much the same erudite density as Edmund Wilson presented the nineteenth century socialists–in To the Finland Station–and the diarists and memoirists of the American Civil War–in Patriotic Gore. We get brilliant and subtly overlapping group portraits; judicious but immersive selections from the primary writings (my favorite is a letter the Prince de Ligne posted from his jaunt across the Crimea in the company of Catherine the Great and Austria’s Joseph II, who was traveling incognito; Ligne admires the color coordination of the robes of Circassian tribesmen, regrets–nay, bewails–the sequestration of the local women, and transcribes the two sovereigns comparing assassination attempts, bitching about the Turks, and laughing at Georgie’s loss of his colonies); wide-ranging and idiosyncratic critical judgements (Fumaroli arch and droll, Wilson cantankerous and glowering); and there’s even a kinship of book design, Oxford UP for Wilson and NYRB Classics for Fumaroli opting for the narrow, densely-printed page, and many of them, for brick-sized compressions of portraiture and anecdote, loaves of historical nutriment.
From the court of Louis XIV sprang a polite, refined literature, brilliant, aristocratic–a trifle mannered, but accessible on that account to all the nobility of Europe, for the highest society, as one of our recent writers has fairly said, forms a single family in all Europe. (Pushkin)
And what a family! Banished Britons, including two generations of Stuart pretenders pitifully pensioned by Versailles, impotently intriguing in their little courts of exile. Rivalrous salons, fiercely possessive of the best talkers and thinkers–after Madame du Deffand’s niece carried off D’Alembert to found her own cenacle, the two women never again spoke. Walpole and Beckford, the gay dandies of England, alighting in the continent to gather art and curios for their pleasure domes back home, and in the process casually catching and neglecting the hearts of besotted grandes dames. Philosophes corresponding with the rulers of Berlin, Stockholm and St. Petersburg–with the cold courts of the grimly forested Nord. (In return for the financial and moral support she offered Voltaire and Diderot in their scrapes with French censors, Catherine received reams of pro-Russian propaganda, in which the aggressions of an expansionist foreign policy were commended as the marches of Reason and Tolerance.) I did wonder about the absence of Gibbon–Gibbon who wrote his first book in French, and who retired to Lausanne to complete the Decline and Fall–just as I wondered about the scarcity of Hume (Fumaroli merely mentions that the imprisoned Louis XVI had frequent resort to the account of the execution of Charles I in Hume's History of England), Hume whose extended sojourn in Paris created a vogue for portly, plainly dressed Protestant savants, a vogue from which Ambassador Franklin and the American cause would later benefit. But to wonder is not to complain. This is a beautiful, beautiful book, rich and stylish. Fumaroli allows us to believe we imagine the experience behind Hume’s remark that, after his triumph in the salons, he needed the ale houses and billiard rooms of Edinburgh as a respite from the “lusciousness” of Paris.
I wanted to swoon with delight. I expected to be seduced by a time and a language. But alas, I was left feeling like I'd just had a disappointing blind date with a snob. There were certainly interesting bits. But it didn't feel like a coherent whole and the selections of original texts did not appeal. We were clearly not a match made in heaven. But, book, I'm sure there is someone out there just for you.
I praise this work as an ignorant savage before the wonder of a clock. Fumaroli has cast into printed words a Thing comparable to Burckhardt's The Civilisation of the Renaissance in Italy. The eighteenth century above all, which shares with us the fanatical cult of manners, turned and turned and turned.
As sad as I am to say this, this book isn't what I expected. It is very much a 'who's who' in the 18th century, rather than a description of the place of French in the world at the time, so it's more on me than the book itself.
I'm also still :/ at the fact that the title in English doesn't entirely reflect the original title, Quand L'Europe parlait français.
Not a narrative, so really better to periodically pop into these letters, which stand on their own. Although I do think you need an already developed understanding of this period in French history (Louis XIV--Revolution) to get much out of it.
It's also can be read as simply an ode to the Enlightenment.
What I have read of M. Fumaroli has stunned me. Not only do I learn a a lot - on every page - but I have to work at a certain kind of new reveling in this work which also teaches me more. Of course there's a host of people I've never heard of placed in a period that is almost unknown for me - and only a few have I heard bleatings on - but it's the interconnections among them that draw me most into Fumaroli's tales. The whole of this book acts like some kaleidoscope whose images and patterns and colors have been photo'd with each photo then lain next to each other sequentially, page after page. Meanwhile, each photo is unpacked, sketches set out, relationships, causes, effects made plain, the times uncovered. Each bit has its own qualities, backgrounds, actions, their interplays among the other bits, and circumstance, and each get their chance to shine or fall: to fall together or fall apart. The kaleidoscope refracts French high culture over a period of 150 years but most of the twenty-six chapters here have letters from people who weren't French but wanted to participate in what is now widely understood as various aspects of French "manners".
Fumaroli has the Venetian Abbe Antonin Conti ask "... Would the Enlightenment incline to the empiricism of rapacious England, or would it remain under the prevailing influence of the France of Descartes ... attached to the classical, Christian, and aristocratic presuppositions of the nobility of the mind -- beauty and truth loved for themselves?"
Anthony Hamilton was Scotch-Irish but wrote a bestseller Memoires du Comte de Gramont , that Voltaire wrote 'was embellished with ... the most agreeable style" ... published (at first anonymously) in 1713 and which would go on to become a how-to book for young, say, American young men, sixty and seventy years later looking to act virtuously and with honor in a wicked world. His works went on to become published in seven more volumes in Paris and London between 1749-76, he had retired to the court of the Stuart's in exile by 1720 rather happily at the chateaux de Saint-Germain under protection of Louis XIV.
Prince Eugene de Carignan, born in Paris but mostly Italian, became the savior of Vienna and Austria, for the love and glory of France. But was it to restore the honor of his name and his mother who had been both a favorite and an exile from the Sun King's court? Eugene later became a hero to both Frederick the Great and Napoleon for his military successes. And received the favor of his own King.
...
But each of the chapters give essays and then a few a few relevant letters in English translation here. It's a gift to the English reading world. So is Fumaroli's 2008 book The Republic of Letters.
An amusing and vibrant look at the stars of the Enlightenment and their love of the French language. Though Fumaroli's paints with a big brush and presents a generally simplified view of the lives and times of his characters, after a few chapters my own nitpicking historian tendencies were set aside for just a pleasurable read. However, it is telling of Fumaroli's own politics and world view, that a few handful of characters can indeed, comprise a "world" that speaks French. Seems to me, it was just a bunch of aristocratic snoots...But then again, that's probably just my middle class Anglophone ways talking.
I was somewhat disappointed in the book. On the plus side, it was a good introduction to a number of 18 century Literary or political figures that I didn’t know much about. On the negative side, he has an agenda which probably isn’t fully developed because of the stutter shot arrangement. His cynical view of enlightenment philosophes was refreshing
An epigraph to this book can be found in this quotation from Lord Chesterfield: "The French," writes Chesterfield, "it is only to do them justice, are much concerned with purity, precision, elegance, and style in their conversation and in their letters. To tell properly for them is an object of study: and though they sometimes carry things to the point of affectation, they never express themselves in a vulgar fashion, which is much the worst of such extremes." And this style was once universal in Europe, as noted by Louis-Antoine Caraccioli: "The courts of Vienna, of Petersburg, of Warsaw converse in the same language as the court of Versailles. One hears the same expressions, the same accent...The Parisian on his travels scarcely realizes he has left Paris, for he comes to no city where he is not answered in his own tongue..."
When the World Spoke French is a collection of essays written to examine the broad world of French writing and letters during the Enlightenment. Fumaroli takes a character in each essay and gives an overview of their life and correspondents, and provides brief samples of their writing. Any reasonably well educated person would of course be familiar with the major writers and thinkers of the era, such as Voltaire and Diderot. The value in this book is the light it shines on some of the lesser known figures, or at least writers of French who are not well know now in the English speaking world. In virtually every chapter, I added authors and titles to my to-read list, although many of the works I would like to pursue are not currently available in English. Some of the works are available, however somewhat ironically, in nineteenth century translations. The evidence of these translations suggests to me that nineteenth century English readers were more familiar with the French literature of the Enlightenment. It is of course laughable to think that any current speaker of English, or at least the American ones, would have even the slightest awareness of the existence of that vast body of delightful and entertaining literature.
One example from the many fine profiles is Anthony Hamilton. An English Catholic Jacobite who followed the deposed James II into exile, Hamilton's Memoires du Comte de Gramont is held up as a shining example of an English writer more French than any Frenchman. Hamilton's memoire of his late brother-in-law achieves a level of l'esprit francais that is so perfect, that according to Sainte-Beuve, "the performance is at a level which is no longer permits us to distinguish anything else in it: he is that esprit itself." Voltaire himself claimed of the Memoires, "Of all the books of this age, this is the one in which the slenderest matter is embellished with the gayest, the liveliest, and the most agreeable style." How could one not want to read the Memoires after such praise?
This is but one of many such examples in the book. When the World Spoke French is both exhilarating and exhausting, for while it opens up the doors to so many fine writers, one has to be a little overwhelmed by the quantity and volume of great works from the era.
About three quarters from the end of this history book I realized "the world" in the title really referred to Europe, and a little of North America. While the author made some comments about French influence reaching into Asia (or anywhere outside of Europe, Russia, and North America), the bulk of this history is about Europe and the influence of French Enlightenment figures. Then I read the in publication data, and it turns out that the original title was Quand l'Europe parlait française. So chalk that up to the dangers of translation.
Semantics of the title aside, When the World Spoke French focuses on different historical figures associated with the 18th century French Enlightenment school of thought. Each chapter focuses on a person or connected group of people who influenced the course of European history during this period, and of course are connected through their use of the French language. It was an interesting way to set up a history book, though at times Fumaroli became too involved in commenting on the personal lives of the historical figures and not necessarily their historical significance.
Pros: passages from primary documents translated from the French at the ends of many chapters, and heavy reliance on first person accounts of events described. Cons: Probably not for a reader (like me) who wanted a general overview of 18th century European history. At times the details were too specific about particular individuals (I had to look up why William Beckford hanging around William Courtenay warranted an "of course" from the author) and at others (like the chapter about Benjamin Franklin) didn't seem well researched enough. A warning to readers as well: Fumaroli assumes that the reader has a knowledge of classical Greek and Roman figures since he frequently uses those as comparisons to his subjects.
At last--after a fight to the death with the author's dense and obtuse language--I have finally finished the book. It seemed that it would/should be fascinating--vignettes of dozens of lumineres (and hangers-on) of the European Republic of Letters influenced by Enlightenment France. Unfortunately, the writing was so difficult--and also filled with many passing references to 19th and 20th century French intellectuals, writers, and artists that were mysterysville to me--that it was a world-class slog to make it through this book. Perhaps, I thought, it's the translation, and as I am a passable reader of French, I asked my librarian daughter to get me the orignal 2001 French edition. Wrong! This book requires much more than passable French, and perhaps it requires mass quantities of vin ordinare to make it comprehensible. Je ne sais quoi. The bits that I learned were indeed interesting, but it wasn't worth the struggle.
Not what I expected, but it was an OK read. What I wasn't keen on was the translation; could have been better in my view. I Would have preferred it if the "samples" of Enlightenment French had not been translated into English or had been provided along w/ an English translation. A more apt title would have been Voltaire: Apologist for Tyrants since the book seems to revolve around the relationship between the Philosophe and many of the illuminé who form part of the book and the hypocrisy demonstrated by him. One example that comes to mind is how Voltaire cheered the partition and destruction of Poland by the despots Frederick II and Catherine the Great, claiming they were bringing "enlightenment" to Poland, completely disregarding the modernizing and Enlightenment-inspired reforms of Poland's last king Stanisław II. Then again, Voltaire was a hypocrite.
I won this book thru Library Thing and thought it was a really tough read. It took me a while to get through the book and it was comparable to reading a literature book. Basically, the book is comprised of a bunch of letters from the Enlightenment period and from some well-known names and not so well-known people of this time frame. I do not care for this time period and I am not much into French History. I also feel that something was lost in the translation from French to English. If you are into this type of history, you might like the book a little better than I did.
I chose to only read specific chapters out of this book. It wasn't meant for me as a reader. I have a rough, but decent knowledge of European history and historical figures, but it was not enough for me to wade through the unrelenting name dropping and the floating across different historical periods. This book is not straightforward in its theme in any way. I recommend this only for people who have a thorough knowledge of European (mostly French) history and have the patience for very, very scholarly text.
i think this would be the perfect book to read after anna karenina but damn, i'm really not engaging with anything in this book. well, that's not true. i really liked the idea of the it when i read the introduction.
Engrossing history--in places--but I agree with an earlier reviewer that the translation dragged down the ideas. I gave up and sped over the last half of the book. I'd like to think I could muster the energy to go back and give the ideas their due.
I thought I knew my history until I read this marvel of a book. I will read it again, study it and consult it regularly. This book will keep me company for a few years until I capture it completely. Loved it.