Decadence: Obscure literature of the fin de siecle and Belle Epoque - and other literary obsession

For the last several years, I've been obsessed with literature from the French Decadent Movement, with a bit of Symbolism tossed in. It’s why I started this blog.  The Fin de Siècle was a time of glittering beauty and pernicious darkness, with amazing social and technological progress creating both dizzying excitement and poisonous angst. In addition, the vitality of the period’s avant-garde art, music, and writing, and the beauty of its crafts, posters, and design aesthetics deeply appeal to me. So much so that, if I believed in so-called past lives, then I was a bohemian artist, writer, or journalist in the Fin de Siècle demimonde. Someone who died at a relatively young age without achieving fame. On a more grounded note, my exploration of French Decadent literature has given me insight into a question I've had since I was young: What happened during a mere 20 years in Paris to transform the arts from Hugo-Zola-Monet-Rodin-Debussy to Gide-Proust-Matisse-Picasso-Satie? The sta...

One of the challenges in reading French Decadent literature is a shortage of English translations. Many works by key Decadent writers, such as Jean Lorrain, Catulle Mendes, J.-K. Huysmans, Octave Mirbeau, and Rachilde lack recent (or any) English translation. This hampers the ability to study a literary movement that, in my opinion, played a significant role in the transformation of literature from Romanticism and Naturalism to Modernism. In the case of Rachilde, I believe her only novel in English was – for a long time – an old translation of her succès de scandale Monsieur Vénus (1884). In the 90’s, access to her oeuvre broadened somewhat. Melanie Hawthorne translated The Juggler (1900), and Liz Heron translated The Marquise de Sade (1887). Later, Monsieur Vénus itself received a much-needed new translation from Hawthorne. However, this was still only a glimpse of her fin de siècle output.  The problem with old translations of Decadent literature is they’re inherently unrelia...

I have just finished the second novel by French decadent writer Octave Mirbeau: Abbé Jules (Dedalus translation by Nicoletta Simborowski). In Mirbeau’s first novel, Le Calvaire (1886), his sharp social criticism was already apparent. He successfully presented his world view through his main character’s desire to “learn the human rationale for religions that stupefy, governments that oppress, societies that kill.”  Unfortunately, Abbé Jules is a much weaker novel. The plot is directionless, so it’s not very interesting. At the same time, the theme is confused. Mirbeau wants to attack the petit bourgeois and church corruption, but all he does is present a gallery of petty and foolish secondary characters. I think the main problem is that neither of the central characters in Abbé Jules provide Mirbeau with an effective way to address his theme.  As to the title character, Mirbeau certainly conveys Abbé Jules’ history and personality via a long flashback in Part One, Chapter T...

As a side assignment within my French Decadent immersion, I’m reading J.-K. Huysmans’ novels in their published order. Since Huysmans kicked-off the French Decadent movement with A rebours ( Against Nature or Against the Grain ), I figured exploring his progression from Naturalism to Decadence might be useful insight into the latter movement. His second novel is The Vatard Sisters (1879). The Naturalism movement to which Huysmans belonged dismissed the idealistic, impassioned works of Romanticism as cotton candy. I like to think, for example, that the lingering influence of Naturalism is what makes us roll our eyes at drippy sentimentality or pat happy endings in movies or books. Naturalism called out such devices as phony, preferring to depict life as it was. Authors conducted extensive research to create an accurate ‘slice of life’ and did not shy away from subject matter considered taboo in polite society.  Huysmans’ 1876 debut ( Marthe: The Story of a Whore ) didn’t sell, bu...

The Red Sorcerer is the third novel I’ve read by late-Decadent author Delphi Fabrice, and it presents some difficulty in interpretation. French Decadence is typically viewed as a fin de siècle phenomenon, which means that, literally, it ended on the last day of 1899. Literarily speaking, one can easily make a case for Decadence extending a few years into the 20th Century. The Red Sorcerer was published in 1910, well after either definition. So is it Decadent literature? More fundamentally, is it literature? In his introduction, translator Brian Stableford reveals The Red Sorcerer was “published as a 64-part feuilleton serial in Le Journal”. The feuilleton was a lurid, cliffhanger-laden genre of French fiction presented in serial format by newspapers of the time. Its purpose was to hook readers into buying future editions of the newspaper to find out “what happens next”. As such, it’s hardly a genre that promises high culture. There’s even good reason to question whether Fabrice himse...

As mentioned in a previous post, J.-K. Huysmans’ novel A rebours ( Against Nature or Against the Grain ) is widely regarded as perhaps the key moment in the development of Decadent literature. While there were novels about dandies and their cynical angst before it, A rebours seems to have fully crystallized the Decadent trope of a wealthy, cultured dandy as an alienated commentator on fin de siècle society.  Given the impact of A rebours , it occurred to me - as a side project in my decadent reading frenzy - to read Huysmans’ novels in their order of publication to see if I could track his progression from Naturalist disciple to Decadent firestarter. This might provide some insight into the development of the Decadent movement, as well as where and how Decadent literature broke away from Naturalism and the other schools that came before it. My project didn’t start well. Huysmans’ first book, Le drageoir aux épices (1874), is not available in English. However, it was a collectio...

Warning: This book is not by a French author! Studies of Death  by Count Eric Stenbock (pictured) was one of the first works of Decadence I purchased. I hadn’t yet become taken by the movement when I did. My motive was that Halloween was approaching, and I wanted to read ghost stories and tales of horror from 19th Century authors. As mentioned in my post about Where to Start, this slender collection of short stories is a wonderful entree into Decadent fiction. While only one of the stories satisfied my Halloween itch, the collection went a long way in hooking me on Decadent fiction. The first study of death is “Hylas”, an imagistic combination of homoeroticism and art appreciation with the gentle pacing of a reverie and ends with a singular image. “Narcissus” leverages its title myth symbolistically but takes a decided twist in its unfolding. Meanwhile, “The True Story of a Vampire” is fascinating not only as a gothic tale but as a pre- Dracula vampire story. The plots and narrati...

I asked this question after first dipping my toe in French Decadent literature. Fact is: There are no obvious starting points. No monolithic writers that scream to be read first. No Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, Honoré de Balzac, or Emile Zola. And even though J.-K. Huysmans’ A rebours is the movement’s bible and was one of the first books I read, I’m not sure I’d recommend it as a starting point. (Drawing: Henri Charles Guerard, Count Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac 1894) Luckily, there was a booming, highly-competitive newspaper industry in fin de siècle France. [For a peek into this world, read Bel-Ami by Guy de Maupassant]. Writers who could draw in readers were paid by the word, and the sensationalistic, lurid, and/or purposefully shocking style of Decadent fiction was perfect for that task. Many Parisian writers made a living churning out content for newspapers with the result that the short story seems to enjoy greater emphasis in Decadent literature than other literary moveme...

One challenging aspect of this blog will be posting reactions to works I’m currently reading, as well as attempting to retrace my path as I initially became interested in Decadent literature (with recommendations for good and not-so-good places to start). I’ll need to be clear which posts are which! I recently finished Robert Scheffer’s novella Prince Narcissus (1896). It’s an outstanding example of a recurring motif in Decadent literature: a fabulously wealthy, handsome, intellectual young man of high position alienated by the vulgarity and stupidity of contemporary human society. Scheffer’s protagonist, Prince Mitrophane Moreano, becomes fascinated by his own beauty and - not surprisingly if you’ve read much Decadent literature - fascination soon becomes neurotic obsession.  As Moreano ages and tries to preserve his looks or delude himself about them, Prince Narcissus becomes a deliciously morbid gothic tale about the cruelty of mortality. Moreano is forever comparing his own d...

Since my first post cited Joris-Karl Huysmans' A rebours ( Against Nature or Against the Grain ) as my entree to Decadent literature, it seems sensible to blog about it right off the bat. Without question, A rebours is the Decadent novel and a must read if you're interested in the Decadent movement or French fin de siecle literature in general. That said, as fascinating and well-written as I found it, it’s not easy going. Note: I read Margaret Mauldon's translation published by Oxford and found it very accessible. (The painting at right is Portrait of J.-K. Huysmans by Adolphe Erneste Gumery, painted in 1884 - the year A rebours was published). A rebours is about Jean Des Esseintes, a wealthy aristocratic fop (the contemporary term was 'dandy'). He and his friends roam Paris indulging their sexual and sensual whims until Des Esseintes literally burns out on life in the fast lane. Disgusted with human society, he retreats to a house outside Paris and seals him...

Jean Lorrain (pictured). Octave Mirbeau. Rachilde. J.-K. Huysmans. These are not the first names that spring to mind when one thinks of French literature. In fact, most people have never heard of them, let alone read their work. Their writing was concentrated between the mid-1880’s and the first years of the 20th Century, a span of time when Naturalism was waning but Modernism had not yet risen. This period is commonly referred to as the French fin de siecle (end of century).  Major literary figures were active during the fin de siecle, but their oeuvres were rooted in the Naturalism which came before it. They certainly don’t embody the Modernism of its aftermath in any meaningful way. Meanwhile, the fin de siecle authors mentioned above and their contemporaries are either shoehorned into these two broad periods or positioned as odd residual bursts of Romanticism.  I find neither treatment satisfying. There is a yawning chasm between Naturalism’s journalistic slice of life and...