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Our more adorned memory, our taste itself accustomed to a richer eloquence, through the quantity of good books, no longer permit us, even despite our efforts, so simple a sobriety.
January 13.
Of taste, of its powers. Whether, in works of the mind, the jurisdiction of this faculty extends to all things. Whether there are ornaments of which taste should not be the judge. Should taste judge light, brilliance, etc.
Our taste has softness, like our morals. Our poetics, like our morality, preaches only what flatters us.
Make little sentences say great things. Montesquieu had this talent.
Poetics brings everything back to taste, as our morality brings everything back to feelings, and as our ideology brings everything back to sensations.
There are ornaments, charms, that taste neither approves nor condemns. It does not concern itself with them. The mind’s sight alone has them within its jurisdiction. In a word, as I said once before, taste should judge, and can even judge, only flavors or what is analogous and corresponds to them. Judgment properly so called must decide all the rest.
In modern literature, emphasis (which is a character of style rather than a figure, and a fault rather than a character) consists in exaggerating through words the greatness of what one speaks of. It differs from swelling because it adds less bulk than grandeur. (The ancients understood it differently.)
Every good proverb is ordinarily allegorical.
January 14.
“These songs that gargle the throat,” says Geoffroy; and that one may indeed call harmonious gargles. Our dancing also has measured gargouillades. And in this kind our dancers do with their legs what our singers do with their throat.
January 15.
— and to take as matter pastes one can knead, of a volume small enough not to exceed our hands.
Of taste and judgment. Their literary powers and the limits of their functions in criticism. The error of our modern poetics, which would have taste judge everything.
Friday, January 17.
A sure taste is one that knows how to distinguish matter from form and to separate the faults of form from the excellence of substance, and the faults of substance from the excellence of form. A sure taste also knows how to distinguish in literature the good from the bad, the bad from the worse, and the good from the better. Experience is necessary to this discernment.