LITERARY CURIOSITIES

Balzac's last home

Balzac historians are going strong. Soon there will be nothing left to reveal of his private life, and we will know all the enthusiasms, all the ardors and the eternally youthful sadnesses which compose it. The phases of the incessant struggle that he endured from his adolescence to his death against his creditors and the necessities of life, the incessant work to which his needs for money forced him and the very extent of his literary conceptions will be definitively revealed to us. and familiar.

It should be noted that these studies in no way diminish the glory of the novelist. On the contrary, each time, they add a new shine. And the almost unanimous admiration that his work inspires is increased by a respect mixed with astonishment and tenderness that we inevitably feel when penetrating his intimacy.

To speak of tenderness towards Balzac may, at first glance, seem bold. His reputation is all about greatness and prodigious activity. How could this man, who has rightly been called the Napoleon of letters, provoke in us a "feeling that we are accustomed to feeling towards weakness, grace, and which, by its causes and its effects, appears before all feminine?

The fact is that when we study him a little closely, Balzac kept, throughout his life and in certain respects, the soul of a child. The Human Comedy retains the certain imprint of this. His sudden impulses, his loves, his short discouragements soon followed by a new flame are the consequence. And it was she who made the countless castles in Spain rise from the ground that he built with incredible speed, enthusiasm and surprising sincerity, only to see them quickly disappear and to allow himself to be taken in by new mirages.

Among these illusions, the Stock Exchange long played a preponderant role, which was sometimes tempered by the love of the fanciful, this love which almost made the novelist take the path to Asia, to sell his ring to the Great Mogul. But Balzac reserved his most refined dreams for his different homes. The Gardens were the most perfect expression of this power in the imagination. We know that he penciled in charcoal on the walls: "Here a Raphael... Here a ceiling by Delacroix", and that there was perhaps not so much irony in that that one would have could have assumed it. His love for buildings, for furniture, paintings and expensive objects, he was to satisfy once, when he bought and arranged, with infinite solicitude and care, the residence which was to receive the Stranger, the little hotel on Rue Fortunée, where he was to be happy for six weeks and then die...

This hotel, Mr. Paul Jarry, who is among the cohort of Balzacians where Mr. Marcel Bouteron sits, one of the most pious followers of the novelist, has just retraced its history and restored it to our eyes (1) . He describes to us the touching magnificences, acquired and ordered with a love all the more lively as Balzac, by purchasing and supervising, prepared the retreat where his happiness finally achieved was to take refuge. Victor Hugo, Champfleury, Gautier, all the writers. who visited Balzac in his domain were struck by the smallness of the garden, the poor exterior appearance of the building and the beauties it contained.

Marble, paintings by Dominiquin, Van Dyck or Holbein, Chinese vases, historic furniture, bookcases inlaid with tortoiseshell, sumptuous hangings, everything indicates prosperity and a love of beauty. However, if Balzac was always attracted by objects of art, even in his Passion for seals and canes, prosperity was never his doing. His house cost him dearly and the worries it caused him were numerous.

On September 28, 1846, Balzac signed, with a certain Pelletreau, the deed of acquisition of the building, for fifty thousand francs. Faithful to his passion for speculation, he plans to acquire a piece of garden which, combined with what his property already owns, will give his hotel considerable value. Then he thinks about furnishing the apartments where the Stranger will walk her cute feet and her “pretty mole paws”. And then, this lover, who has not tired of eighteen years of waiting, begins to fear that everything will not be beautiful enough for his beloved, and that she will regret her cold homeland and the luxurious furnishings that she knew during her travels across Europe. However, money is lacking and follies are not in season. The suppliers hesitate to deliver their goods, fearing that they have worked for the glory of serving Mr. de Balzac. Will the creditors, who have been waiting for payment of their dues for a long time, descend on these riches? The Jardies house is far away, with its bare walls and its inscriptions. Also forgotten was the house on rue Basse, whose double exit was however precious to him. And Balzac, showing his treasures at Champfleury, says that he is housed out of charity and that neither the hotel nor the furniture belong to him.

In 1848, Balzac left for Russia to join Madame Hanska. The work was not finished. Mme Balzac senior came to settle in the hotel and ensure the completion of the installation. For two years there were incessant letters between mother and son, containing news of the house or recommendations for its maintenance.

No one should enter it; Madame Balzac herself only takes her meals in the first room when she needs a heater, and even then it is because of the carpet... For fear of stains, she replaces the candlesticks with a lantern ; she urges the cabinetmaker Grohé, and Feuchère the goldsmith, who do not bring enough zeal to the execution of orders. His tenderness towards his son is matched only by Balzac's solicitude towards Madame Hanska.

Balzac inquires about the paintings, executed for Beaujon by La Vallée-Poussin and restored by Hedouin; he inquired about the nine arms that Feuchère was to provide for the living room, and about the consoles promised by Paillard. Finally, after some long and final procrastination, Mme Hanska agreed to become Mme de Balzac and, in May 1850, the couple entered the hotel on rue Fortunée. But Balzac is, at this time, seriously ill. A trivial accident will precipitate the course of events and he dies on the evening of August 18...

Of the hotel that he had acquired with so much joy, which was for him the hope of a happy and peaceful existence, nothing remains now. But, thanks to Mr. Jarry, we can follow Balzac step by step through his beloved home. We see him attentive, moved, trembling at displeasing his “incomparable friend”, moderating his spending and trying to give her all the luxury and all the beauty desirable. His minutiae, his infatuations, his fears, his setbacks are all traits that help us to love him better. This is where the childish part of his soul is, the part of tenderness that belongs to him.

And if things have disappeared, there still remains this charming corner of his heart, this page which is perhaps not the least moving, but certainly the most exquisite in this incredible novel that was Balzac's life.

François Montel.