(At Notre Dame.) Gold has something divine about it.
Saturday, June 7.
(Journal de l’Empire of the same day. Feuilleton: commentary on Corneille, signed Z.) “One must know how to admit (Voltaire said) that it is an art that lacks art. Very well (Mr. Delalot says politely); but one must know how to admit that Ronsard and Chapelain never wrote a line in jargon as barbarous as the jargon of this prose.” Mr. Delalot cries out in protest. He would like more harmony in this sentence. He finds barbarous jargon in it. The same critic says at the end of his article: “The daily analysis of his plays proves that this maxim” (strike hard rather than strike true) “has been the foundation of his theater as of his criticism; and (he adds) that is enough for his admirers, if they wish to open their eyes, to judge the excellence of the one and the soundness of the other.” Observe closely (and in such a critic) the perfection of this grammatical gibberish.
June 8.
J.-B. Rousseau. His talent fills the interval between Lamotte and the true poet.
Boileau, Racine, etc. These are not waters from a spring. Their merit lies in a beautiful choice in imitation. And it is their books that imitate books, not their souls that imitate souls.
There are pedants of the collège, there are pedants of the lycée.
June 9.
— and, to express such excellent thoughts well, one need not have made oneself a beautiful style: it is enough to have none.
June 4.
To write with beauty or with charm. With beauty in great things and with charm in small ones. In middling things, one must write in a middling way.
Whoever always writes without charm has no beauty in his mind.
June 9.
All clear or transparent words seem to be beautiful sounds.
Yes and no are not precisely clear words, but decided words. In clear words there is more light than movement or posture. Yes and no are what the Latins called words full of gesture.
June 12.
This man (La Harpe) was accustomed only to judging words. One sees that he is out of his element when it comes to things. He falters there and, however good a face he puts on it, one feels that he is not on his own ground. Thus he tries quickly to catch hold of some passage in a book.
There are opinions that repel us so much, and for which our mind feels such aversion, that it cannot even bring itself to touch them in order to refute them.
June 14.
[…]es: One sees that this one too has occupied himself only with books. One feels that what he thinks and what he says rests only on paper. He lacks the solidity of things. He sets nothing on this foundation. He builds nothing on this rock. Thus all his assertions totter, swaying castles. Having seen nothing with the naked eye and from nature, etc.
This bookish style — which smells of authors and not of the world. I mean the real world: life, experience, and the substance of things.
June 17.
— whose brain has nothing mechanical about it.
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The Notebooks of Joseph Joubert, Volume II · Book Mode · Diotimos