"It is not a book to stir the passions of the multitude," he said; "it is a scientific work, the logical outcome and conclusion of all my previous volumes; and at the same time it is my speech for the defence before the court of public opinion. It will be a sermon on atavism and will set forth my theory that when men know how to master its influence they will be masters of their own destinies. And the conclusion will be the philosophical one which I have sought ever since I first took pen in hand to write the series: that we ought to have faith in life and confidence in Nature.... Yes, that despite all that is cruel and ugly and incomprehensible in Nature, despite all the suffering and injustice of life, all that is bad and seems irremediable in the world, we ought to preserve confidence in Nature, and stake our hopes on effort and work. Further, that, though we may not see it, we are surely pushing forward towards a certain end and object; that there is a field of hope in Nature, and that good will come out of all that is bad, that justice will emerge from the slough of injustice, that a day of beauty will dawn after a night of hideous darkness, and that the result of all our efforts and our suffering must surely be one that will reward the first and compensate us for the other."[19]
Zola sold the first French serial rights in "Le Docteur Pascal" to a periodical called "La Revue hebdomadaire,"[20] in which the story appeared from March till June, 1893. With the volume, issued a few weeks later,[21] a new genealogical tree of the Rougon-Macquart family was given, this including the names of the additional members created by Zola's fancy since his first inception of the series.
To celebrate its completion his publishers gave a déjeuner champêtre at the Chalet restaurant on the larger of the Grand Lac islands in the Bois de Boulogne. A numerous company of literary men and artists assembled there, but the proceedings may have aroused some jealousy among a few old friends, for men like Daudet and Goncourt were absent. The former, who had long since renounced the Academy and all its pomps, did not approve of Zola's "perpetual candidature"—he was, by the way, then offering himself for three fauteuils simultaneously—and thus there was a coldness between them. Goncourt also was opposed to the Academy, and meditated the establishment of a rival one of his own "for novelists only." So in this case again there was some coldness, particularly as Zola felt that certain references to himself in the earlier volumes of the "Journal des Goncourt," then lately issued, were not quite such as one might have expected from a bosom friend. We know, however, by later entries in the "Journal," that Zola and Goncourt continued to meet virtually until the latter's death. True it is that Goncourt at one time meant to appoint Zola to the chief position in his so-called "Academy," and that he afterwards renounced that intention. But, contrary to what some writers have asserted, Zola was by no means disappointed at being left out of it. As a matter of fact, he had deliberately rendered himself ineligible by seeking admittance to the real Academy; and, besides, from the outset he had put very little faith in Goncourt's scheme. However, his friendship with Goncourt and Daudet, whatever their differences, subsisted till the last. Of the part which he took when Daudet died some mention will be made hereafter.
Fac-simile letter from Zola to Vizetelly.
At the lunch at the Chalet des Iles the novelist's health was proposed by his old friend and publisher, M. Charpentier, and after the toast had been acknowledged, M. Catulle Mendès, who, as will be remembered, had gallantly assisted Zola when the columns of "La Cloche" and "Le Bien Public" were closed to "La Curée" and "L'Assommoir," spoke of the old quarrels between the Naturalists and the Parnassians, to which latter sect he, Mendès, had belonged. And, said he, though he still looked upon poetry as a much superior art to prose, he was anxious to declare publicly that he regarded Zola as one of the great literary glories of France. This was very pretty; and the novelist, not to be left behind in a matter of compliments, responded by referring to Mendès as a perfect artist and a good friend. Finally he proposed a toast to work, his old hobby, as he called it, the only one in which true happiness could be found. For some inscrutable reason General Iung—whose researches into the Iron Mask mystery may be remembered, and who happened to be among the guests on this occasion—thought the moment appropriate to re-echo a remark which had run through the newspapers, and to which one has already referred. "Monsieur Zola," said he, "you have written 'The Smash-up' ('La Débâcle'), let us hope that you will soon write 'Victory.'" "Ah, general!" replied Zola, raising his forefinger, "that is your business." And thereupon he sat down.
The value of books is not to be estimated by their length or even by their popularity. Yet it may not be inappropriate to point out that the Rougon-Macquart series, which Zola had now completed, was really a colossal performance. Besides a large variety of other work, the novelist had written the twenty volumes of that series in about five and twenty years, introducing, as he proceeded, no fewer than twelve hundred characters to his readers. The twenty volumes represented nine thousand pages of print, each of three and thirty lines, and, assuming an average of nine words per line and making allowance for "blanks,"—by no means numerous in Zola's works,—one may say that they contained quite two million five hundred thousand words. Passing to another matter, one finds that at the time of the appearance of "Le Docteur Pascal" there had been sold over half a million copies of the ordinary Charpentier edition of the series. The popular illustrated editions of several of the stories, first sold in what one may call "penny parts," had also circulated very widely, at least to the extent of a quarter of a million copies; and further there had been some éditions de luxe, copies on special papers, and so forth. Moreover, there were five novels written before the Rougon-Macquart series was begun, with four volumes of short stories and seven volumes of essays and other papers, issued at various times, and one may therefore assume that between eight and nine hundred thousand copies of Zola's books had been sold at the period we now deal with. And of course thousands and thousands of readers had been reached by serial publication. Of the circulation of the many translations it is impossible to give even an idea, but some of the English and American volumes had sold by tens of thousands, and there were versions of many of Zola's writings in German, Italian, Russian, Dutch, Hungarian, and other languages. But books, as we know, by no means represented the whole of Zola's work; there were also many scores, if not hundreds, of ephemeral uncollected newspaper articles to be added to them, as well as several plays, so that his output stood at quite five million words. It was evident then that he practised what he preached,—that gospel of work, which others, such as Tolstoï, the prophet of resignation, occasionally derided but which he himself found all-sustaining.
He took it as a part of his text when speaking at a gathering of the Paris Students' Association, over which he presided that year, 1893,[22] for though the Academy still refused him admittance, some recognition of his labours was coming from other quarters. On the occasion of the National Fête, following the completion of his great series, he was raised from the rank of chevalier to that of officer of the Legion of Honour; and for some years in succession, a very rare occurrence, he was chosen as Président de la Société des Gens de Lettres. It was this circumstance that caused the English Institute of Journalists to invite him and other representative French writers to attend one of its congresses in London. Zola's connection with Ernest Vizetelly had now become a close one. A translation of "Le Docteur Pascal" had followed that of "La Débâcle," and arrangements had been made for an English version of a previous work, "L'Argent," Zola indorsing all Vizetelly's proposals in a letter in which he said: "My dear confrère, I leave translation matters entirely to you, and it is sufficient you should tell me that an arrangement is good for me to accept it. I know you to be devoted to my interests, and you are well placed to decide everything."[23] Under these circumstances, early in August 1893, soon after receiving the invitation of the Institute of Journalists, Zola communicated with Vizetelly and asked him for certain information. "I should like to know," he wrote, "what will be the importance of this congress, and whether it will offer much interest. You know my position in London; my work is still very much questioned there, almost denied. It certainly seems to me that my presence, and the words I might speak, might efface much of the misunderstanding, and that it would be politic to accept, in order to influence opinion. But what is your view? Reply to me at once at Médan."