What Is Art?

The variety of fresh feelings flowing from religious WHAT IS ART?

75 perception is endless, and they are all new, for regions perception is nothing else than the first indication of that which is coming into existence, viz. the new relation of man to the world around him. But the feelings flowing from the desire for enjoyment are, on the contrary, not only limited, but were long ago experienced and expressed. And therefore the lack of belief of the upper classes of Europe has left them with an art fed on the poorest subject-matter.

The impoverishment of the subject-matter of upper-class art was further increased by the fact that, ceasing to be religious, it ceased also to be popular, and this again diminished the range of feelings which it transmitted. For the range of feelings experienced by the powerful and the rich, who have no experience of labour for the support of life, is far poorer, more limited, and more insignificant than the range of feelings natural to working people.

People of our circle, sestheticians, usually think and say just the contrary of this. I remember how Gontchareff, the author, a very clever and educated man but a thorough towns- man and an sesthetician, said to me that after Tourgenieff’s Memoirs of a Sportsman there was nothing left to write about in peasant life. It was all used up. The life of working people seemed to him so simple that Tourgenieff’s peasant stories had used up all there was to describe. The life of our wealthy people, with their love affairs and dissatisfac- tion with themselves, seemed to him full of inexhaustible subject-matter. One hero kissed his lady on her palm, another on her elbow, and a third somewhere else. One man is discontented through idleness, and another because people don’t love him. And Gontchareff thought that in this sphere there is no end of variety. And this opinion — that the life of working people is poor in subject-matter, but that our life, the life of the idle, is full of interest — is shared by very many people in our society. The life of 7б ІѴЛАТ IS ART?

a labouring man, with its endlessly varied forms of labour, and the dangers connected with this labour on sea and underground; his migrations, the intercourse with his em- ployers, overseers, and companions and with men of other religions and other nationalities; his struggles with nature and with wild beasts, the associations with domestic animals, the work in the forest, on the steppe, in the field, the garden, the orchard; his intercourse with wife and children, not only as with people near and dear to him, but as with co-workers and helpers in labour, replacing him in time of need; his concern in all economic questions, not as matters of display or discussion, but as problems of life for himself and his family; his pride in self -suppression and service to others, his pleasures of refreshment; and with all these interests permeated by a religious attitude towards these occurrences — all this to us, who have not these interests and possess no religious perception, seems monotonous in comparison with those small enjoyments and insignificant cares of our life, — a life, not of labour nor of production, but of consumption and destruction of that which others have produced for us. We think the feelings experienced by people of our day and our class are very important and varied; but in reality almost all the feelings of people of our class amount to but three very insignificant and simple feelings — the feeling of pride, the feeling of sexual desire, and the feeling of weariness of life. These thre^-^feelings, with their out- growths, form almost the only subject-matter of the art of the rich classes.

At first, at the very beginning of the separation of the exclusive art of the upper classes from universal art, its chief subject-matter was the feeling of pride. It was so at the time of the Renaissance and after it, when the chief subject of works of art was the laudation of the strong — popes, kings, and dukes: odes and madrigals were written in their honour, and they were extolled in cantatas and hymns; WHAT IS ART?

77 their portraits were painted, and their statues carved, in various adulatory ways. Next, the element of sexual desire began more and more to enter into art, and (with very few exceptions, and in novels and dramas almost without exception) it has now become an essential feature of every art product of the rich classes.

The third feeling transmitted by the art of the rich — that of discontent with life — appeared yet later in modern art. This feeling, which, at the commencement of the present century, was expressed only by exceptional men; by Byron, by Leopardi, and afterwards by Heine, has latterly become fashionable and is expressed by most ordinary and empty people. Most justly does the French critic Doumic characterise the works of the new writers — “ c^est la lassitude de vivre^ le mepris de Vepoque presente, le regret d'un autre temps apergu d travers Villusion de Vart, le gout du paradoxe, le besoin de se singulariser, une aspira- tion de raffines vers la simplieite, Vadoration enfantine du merveilleux, la seduction maladive de la reverie, Vehranlement des nerfs, — surtout Vappel exaspere de la sensualiW^ (Les Jeunes, KenC Doumic). ^ And, as a matter of fact, of these three feelings it is sensuality, the lowest (accessible not only to all men but even to all animals) which forms the chief subject-matter of works of art of recent times.

From Boccaccio to Marcel Prevost, all the novels, poems, and verses invariably transmit the feeling of sexual love in its different forms. Adultery is not only the favourite, but almost the only theme of all the novels. A performance is not a performance unless, under some pretence, women appear ^ It is the weariness of life, contempt for the present epoch, regret for another age seen through the illusion of art, a taste for paradox, a desire to be singular, a sentimental aspiration after simplicity, an infantine adoration of the marvellous, a sickly tendency towards reverie, a shattered condition of nerves, and, above all, the ex- asperated demand of sensuality.

78 WHAT IS ART?

with naked busts and limbs. Songs and romances — all are expressions of lust, idealised in various degrees.

A majority of the pictures by French artists represent female nakedness in various forms. lii recent French literature there is hardly a page or a poem in which nakedness is not described, and in which, relevantly or irrelevantly, their favourite thought and word nu is not repeated a couple of times. There is a certain writer, Eene de Gourmond, who gets printed, and is considered talented. To get an idea of the new writers, I read his novel, Les Chevaux de Diomede. It is a consecutive and detailed account of the sexual connections some gentleman had with various women. Every page contains lust-kindling descrip- tions. It is the same in Pierre Louys’ book, Aphrodite^ which met with success; it is the same in a book I lately chanced upon — Huysmans’ Certains^ and, with but few exceptions, it is the same in all the French novels. They are all the productions of people suffering from erotic mania. And these people are evidently convinced that as their whole life, in consequence of their diseased condition, is concentrated on amplifying л’■arious sexual abominations, therefore the life of all the world is similarly concentrated. And these people, suffering from erotic mania, are imitated throughout the whole artistic world of Europe and America.

Thus in consequence of the lack of belief and the exceptional manner of life of the wealthy classes, the art of those classes became impoverished in its subject-matter, and has sunk to the transmission of the feelings of pride, discontent with life, and, above all, of sexual desire.

CHAPTER X In consequence of their unbelief the art of the upper classes became poor in subject-matter. But besides that, becoming continually more and more exclusive, it became at the same time continually more and more involved, affected, and obscure.

When a universal artist (such as were some of the Grecian artists or the J ewish prophets) composed his work, he naturally strove to say what he had to say in such a manner that his production should he intelligible to all men. But when an artist composed for a small circle of people placed in excep- tional conditions, or even for a single individual and his courtiers, — for popes, cardinals, kings, dukes, queens, or for a king’s mistress, — he naturally only aimed at influencing these people, who were well known to him, and lived in excep- tional conditions familiar to him. And this was an easier task, and the artist was involuntarily drawn to express himself by allusions comprehensible only to the initiated, and obscure to everyone else. In the first place, more could he said in this way; and secondly, there is (for the initiated) even a certain charm in the cloudiness of such a manner of expression. This method, which showed itself both in euphemism and in mythological and historical allusions, came more and more into use, until it has, apparently, at last reached its utmost limits in the so-called art of the Decadents. It has come, finally, to this: that not only is haziness, mysteriousness, obscurity, and exclusiveness (shutting out the masses) elevated to the rank of a merit and a 79 8o WHAT IS ART?

condition of poetic art, but even incorrectness, indefiniteness, and lack of eloquence are held in esteem.

Theophile Gautier, in his preface to the celebrated Fleurs du Ma\ says that Baudelaire, as far as possible, banished from poetry eloquence, passion, and truth too strictly copied V eloquence, la passion, et la verite calquee trop emctement ”).

And Baudelaire not only expressed this, but maintained his thesis in his verses, and yet more strikingly in the prose of his Petits Poemes en Prose, the meanings of which have to be guessed like a rebus, and remain for the most part undiscovered.

The poet Verlaine (who followed next after Baudelaire, and was also esteemed great) even wrote an “ Art poetique^^ in which he advises this style of composition: — De la musique avant toute chose, Et pour cela prefere V Impair Plus vague et plus soluble dans Vair, Sans rien en lui qui pese ou qui pose.

II faut aussi que tu n^ailles point Choisir tes nwts sans quelque meprise: Rien de plus cher que la chanson grise Oil VIndicis au Precis se joint.

And again: — De la musique encore et toujours / Que ton vers soit la chose envolee Qu^on sent qui fuit d'une dme en allee Vers d’autres deux d d^autres amours.

WHAT IS ART?

8 Qae ton vers soit la bonne aventure Eparse au vent crispe du таЫщ Qui va fleurant la menthe et le thym...Et tout le reste est litterature.'^ After these two comes Mallarme, considered the most important of the young poets, and he plainly says that the charm of poetry lies in our having to guess its meaning — that in poetry there should always be a puzzle: — Je pense qu4l faut qu4l rCy ait qu’ allusion, says he. La contemplation des objets, V image s^envolant des reveries suscitees par eux, sont le chant: les Parnassiens, eux, prennent la chose entierement et la montrent; par Id Us manquent de mystere; Us retirent aux esprits cette joie dUicieuse de croire quHls creent. Nommer un objet, c’est supprimer les trois quarts de la jouissanee du роете, qui estfaite du bonheur de deviner peu a peu: le suggerer, ^ Music, music before all things The eccentric still prefer, Yague in air, and nothing weighty, Soluble. Yet do not err, Choosing words; still do it lightly.

Do it too with some contempt; Dearest is the song that’s tipsy.

Clearness, dimness not exempt.

Music always, now and ever Be thy verse the thing that flies From a soul that’s gone, escaping, Gone to other loves and skies.

Gone to other loves and regions.

Following fortunes that allure.

Mint and thyme and morning crispness...All the rest’s mere literature.

6 82 WHAT IS ART?

voila le гёѵе. C’est le parfait usage de ce mystere qui constitue le symbole: evoquer petit d petit un objet pour montrer un Hat d'dme, ощ inversement^ choisir un objet et en digager un etat d’dme, par une serie de dichiffrements...Si un etre d'une intelligence moyenne^ et d^une 'preparation litteraire insuffisante, ouvre par liasard un livre ainsi fait et pretend en jouir, il у a malentendu^ il faut remettre les choses d leur place. Il doit у avoir toujours ёпідте en poesie, et c’est le but de la litterature, il riy en a pas dlautre^ — d^ evoquer les objets. — ^^Enquete sur V evolution litter air ef Jules Huret, pp. 60, 61 J Thus is obscurity elevated into a dogma among the new poets. As the French critic Doumic (who has not yet accepted the dogma) quite correctly says: — “Л serait temps aussi d'enjinir avec cette fameuse Hheorie de VobscuritH que la nouvelle ecole a elevee, en effet, d la hauteur d\n dogmel' — Les Jeunes^ par Кепё Doumic. ^ But it is not French writers only who think thus. The 1 I think there should be nothing but allusions. The contemplation of objects, the flying image of reveries evoked by them, are the song. The Parnassiens state the thing completely, and show it, and thereby lack mystery; they deprive the mind of that delicious joy of imagining that it creates. To name an object is to take three-quarters from the enjoyment of the poem^ which consists in the happiness of guessing little by little: to suggest, that is the dream. It is the perfect use of this mystery that constitutes the symbol: little by little, to evoke an object in order to show a state of the soul; or inversely, to choose an object, and from it to disengage a state of the soul by a series of decipherings.

...If a being of mediocre intelligence and insufficient literary preparation chance to open a book made in this way and pretends to enjoy it, there is a misunderstanding — things must be returned to their places. There should always be an enigma in poetry, and the aim of literature — it has no other — is to evoke objects.

^ It were time also to have done with this famous “theory of obscurity,” which the new school have practically raised to the height of a dogma.

WHAT IS ART?

83 poets of all other countries think and act in the same way: German, and Scandinavian, and Italian, and Russian, and f English. So also do the artists of the new period in all branches of art: in painting, in sculpture, and in music. Relying on Nietzsche and Wagner, the artists of the new age conclude that it is unnecessary for them to be intelli- gible to the vulgar crowd; it is enough for them to evoke poetic emotion in “ the finest nurtured,” to borrow a phrase from an English sesthetician.

In order that what I am saying may not seem to be mere assertion, I will quote at least a few examples from [ the French poets who have led this movement. The name I of these poets is legion. I have taken French writers, » because they, more decidedly than any others, indicate the new direction of art, and are imitated by most European writers.

Besides those whose names are already considered famous, such as Baudelaire and Yerlaine, here are the names of a few of them: Jean Moreas, Charles Morice, Henri de Regnier, Charles Vignier, Adrien Remade, Rene Ghil, Maurice Maeterlinck, G. Albert Aurier, R^my de Gour- mont, Saint-Pol-Roux-le-Magnifique, Georges Rodenbach, le comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac. These are Symbolists and Decadents. Next we have the “Magi”: IJosephin Peladan, Paul Adam, Jules Bois, M. Papus, and others.

Besides these, there are yet one hundred and forty-one j others, whom Doumic mentions in the book referred to above.

Here are some examples from the лѵогк of those of them who are considered to be the best, beginning with that most celebrated man, acknowledged to be a great artist worthy of a monument — Baudelaire. This is a poem from his celebrated Fleurs du Mai: — WHAT IS ART?

No. XXIV.

Je adore d Vegal de la voute nocturne, О vase de tristesse, 6 grande taciturne, Et faime d’autant plus, belle, que tu me fuis, Et que tu me parais, ornement de mes nuits.

Plus ironiquement accumuler les lieues Qui separent mes bras des immensites bleues.

Je m^avance d Vattaque, et je grimpe aux assauts, Comme apres un cadavre un clioeur de vermisseaux, Et je cheris, 6 bete implacable et cruelle, Jusqu’d cette froideur par ou tu mUes plus belle! ^ And this is another by the same writer: — No. ХХХЛЧ.

DUELLUM.

Deux guerriers ont couru Vun sur V autre; leurs armes Ont eclabousse fair de lueurs et de sang.

Ces jeux, ces cliquetis du fer sont les vacarmes D'une jeunesse en proie d V amour vagissant.

Les glaives sont brises! comme notre jeunesse, Ma cliere! Mats les dents, les ongles aceres, Vengent bientbt Vepee et la dague traUresse.

О fureur des coeurs murs par V amour ulcer es!

Dans le ravin liante des cliats-pards et des onces Nos lieros, i etreignant mecliamment, ont route, Et leur peau jieurira Varidite des ronces.

^ For translation, see Appendix IV.

WHAT IS ART?

Ce gouffre, c'est Venfer, de nos amis peupU / Roulons-y sans remords, amazone inliumaine^ AJin dleterniser Vardeur de notre liaine / ^ To be exact, I should mention that the collection contains verses less comprehensible than these, but not one poem which is plain and can be understood without a certain effort — an effort seldom rewarded, for the feelings which the poet transmits are evil and very low ones. And these feelings are always, and purposely, expressed by him with eccentricity and lack of clearness. This premeditated obscu- rity is especially noticeable in his prose, where the author could, if he liked, speak plainly.

Take, for instance, the first piece from his Petits Poemes: — VtTRANQER.

Qui aimes-tu le mieux^ homme enigmatique^ dis? ton pere^ ta mh'e, ta soeur, ou ton frere?

Je nUai ni per e^ ni mere, ni soeur^ ni frere..

Tes amis?

Vous vous servez Id d^une parole dont le sens mUest reste jusqv? a ce jour inconnu, Ta patrie?

J 'ignore sous quelle latitude elle est situee.

La beaute?

Je V aimer ais volontiers, deesse et immortelle.

Uor?

Jele Tiais comme vous haissez Dieu.

Et qu 'aimes-tu done, extraordinaire etranger?

The piece called La Soupe et les Nuages is probably ^ For translation, see Appendix IV.

86 WHAT IS Акт?

intended to express the unintelligibility of the poet even to her whom he loves. This is the piece in question: — Ma petite folle Ыеп-агтёе me donnait a diner ^ et par la fenetre ouverte de la salle d manger je contemplais les mouvantes architectures que Dieu fait avec les vapeurs, les merveilleuses constructions de V impalpable. Et je me disais, a travel's ma contemplation: ’-^Toutes ces fantasmagories sont presque aussi belles que les yeux de ma belle bien-aimee^ la petite folle monstrueuse aux yeux verts.’’^ Et tout d coup je re^us un violent coup de poing dans le dos, et fentendis une voix rauque et cliarmante, une voix liysterique et comme enrouee par V eau-de-vie, la voix de ma chere petite Ыеп-аітёе, qui me disait, Allez-vous bientot manger votre soupe, s...b...de marchand de nuages? ” ^ However artificial these two pieces may he, it is still possible, with some effort, to guess at what the author meant them to express, hut some of the pieces are absolutely incomprehensible — at least to me. Le Galant Tireur is a piece I was quite unable to understand.

LE GALANT TIREUR.

Comme la voiture traversait le bois, il la fit arreter dans le voisinage Tun tir, disant qu4l lui serait agreable de tirer quelques bodies pour tuer le Temps. Tuer ce monstre-ld, n^est-cepas V occupation la plus ordinaire et la plus legitime de chacun? — Et il offrit galamment la main d sa chere, delicieuse et execrable femme, d cette mysterieuse femme d laquelle il doit tant de plaisirs, tant de douleurs, et peut-etre aussi une grande partie de son genie.

^ For translation, see Appendix IV.

WHAT IS ART?

87 Plusieurs balles frajpperent loin du but propose^ Типе d'elles s^enfon^a тёте dans le plafond; et comme la char- mante creature riait foUement, se moquant de la maladresse de son epoux, celui-ci se tourna brusquement vers elle, et lui dit: Observez cette poupee^ Id-bas, d droite, qui porte le nez en Vair et qui a la mine si hautaine. Eh bien / cher ange, je me figure que c'est vous.” Et it ferma les yeux et il Idcha la detente. La poupee fut nettement decapitee.

Alors s’ inclinant vers sa there, sa delicieuse, son execrable femme, son inevitable et impitoyable Muse, et lui baisant respectueusement la main, il ajouta: Ah! mon cher ange, combienje vous remercie de mon adresse f ” ^ The productions of another celebrity, Yerlaine, are not less affected and unintelligible. This, for instance, is the first poem in the section called Ariettes Oubliees.

“ Le vent dans la plains Suspend son haleine!’’ — Favart.

Cest Vextase langoureuse, G’est la fatigue amoureuse, C’est tous les frissons des bois Parmi Vetreinte des brises, C’est, vers les ramures grises, Le choeur des petites voix.

О le frele et frais murmure! Cela gazouille et susurre, Cela ressemble au cri doux Que Vherbe agitee expire...Tu dirais, sous Veau qui vire, Le roulis sourd des cailloux.

^ For translation, see Appendix lY.

WHAT /S ART?

Cette dme qui se lamente En cette plainte dormante C’est la notre^ n'est-ce pas?

La mienne, dis, et la tienne^ Dont s^exliale Vhumble antienne Par ce tiede soir^ tout has? ^ What cliceur des petites voix’^'i and what cri doux que Vherbe agitee expire and what it all means, remains altogether unintelligible to me.

And here is another Ariette: — VIII.

Dans Vintermindble Ennui de la plaine, La neige incertaine Luit comme du sable.

Le del est de cuivi'e, Sans lueur aucune.

On croirait voir vivre Et mourir la lune.

Comme des nuees Flottent gris les dienes Des fords prodiaines Parmi les buees.

Le del est de cuivre^ Sans lueur aucune.

On croirait voir vivre Et mourir la lune.

^ For translation, see Appendix IV.

WBAT IS ART?

89 Corneille poussive Et vous, les loups maigres, Par ces bises aigres Quoi done vous arrive?

Dans Vinterminable Ennui de la plaine, La neige incertaine Luit comme du sdbled How does the moon seem to live and die in a copper heaven And how can snow shine like sand The whole thing is not merely nnintelligihle, hut, under pretence of conveying an impression, it passes off a string of incorrect comparisons and words.

Besides these artificial and obscure poems, there are others which are intelligible, but which make up for it by being altogether bad, both in form and in subject. Such are all the poems under the heading La Sagesse. The chief place in these verses is occupied by a very poor expression of the most commonplace Eoman Catholic and patriotic senth ments. For instance, one meets with verses such as this: — Je ne veux plus penser qu^ a та mere Marie, Siege de la sagesse et source de pardons, Mere de France aussi de qui nous attendons ІпёЪгапІаЫетепі Vhonneur de la patrie.^ Before citing examples from other poets, I must pause to ^ For translation, see Appendix IV.

2 I do not wish to think any more, except about my mother Mary, Seat of wisdom and source of pardon.

Also Mother of France, from whom we Steadfastly expect the honour of our country.

90 WHAT IS ART?

note the amazing celebrity of these two versifiers, Baudelaire and Verlaine, who are now accepted as being great poets. How the French, who had СЬёпіег, Musset, Lamartine, and, above all, Hugo, — and among whom quite recently fiourished the so-called Parnassiens: Leconte de Lisle, Sully-Prud- homme, etc., — could attribute such importance to these two versifiers, who were far from skilful in form and most con- temptible and commonplace in subject-matter, is to me incom- prehensible. The conception-of-life of one of them, Baudelaire, consisted in elevating gross egotism into a theory, and replacing morality by a cloudy conception of beauty, and especially artificial beauty. Baudelaire had a preference, which he expressed, for a woman’s face painted rather than showing its natural colour, and for metal trees and a theatrical imitation of water rather than real trees and real water.

The life-conception of the other, Verlaine, consisted in weak profligacy, confession of his moral impotence, and, as an antidote to that impotence, in the grossest Roman Catholic idolatry. Both, moreover, were quite lacking in naivet6, sincerity, and simplicity, and both overflowed with artificiality, forced originality, and self-assurance. So that in their least bad productions one sees more of M. Baude- laire or M. Verlaine than of what they were describing. But these two indifferent versifiers form a school, and lead hundreds of followers after them.

There is only one explanation of this fact: it is that the art of the society in which these versifiers lived is not a serious, important matter of life, but is a mere amusement. And all amusements grow wearisome by repetition. And, in order to make wearisome amusement again tolerable, it is necessary to find some means to freshen it up. When, at cards, ombre grows stale, whist is introduced; when whist grows stale, ёсагіё is substituted; when ёcartё grows stale, some other novelty is invented, and so on. The substance WBAT IS ART?

91 WBAT IS ART?

91 of the matter remains the same, only its form is changed. And so it is with this kind of art. The subject-matter of the art of the upper classes growing continually more and more limited, it has come at last to this, that to the artists of these exclusive classes it seems as if everything has already been said, and that to find anything new to say is impossible. And therefore, to freshen up this art, they look out for fresh forms.

Baudelaire and Verlaine invent such a new form, furbish it up, moreover, with hitherto unused pornographic details, and — the critics and the i^ublic of the upper classes hail them as great writers.

This is the only explanation of the success, not of Baudelaire and Verlaine only, but of all the Decadents.

For instance, there are poems by Маііагтё and Maeterlinck which have no meaning, and yet for all that, or perhaps on that very account, are printed by tens of thousands, not only in various publications, but even in collections of the best works of the younger poets.

This, for example, is a sonnet by Mallarme: — A la nue accaUante tu Basse de basalte et de laves A тете les echos esclaves Par une iromjpe sans vertu.

Quel se'pulcral naufrage {tu Le soir, ecume, mais у haves) Supreme une entre les epaves Aholit le mat devetu, Ou cela que furihond faute De quelque perdition haute Tout Vdbime vain eploye 92 Pf^ffAT IS ART^ Dans le si Ыапс cheveu qui traine Avarement aura noye Le flanc enfant d'une еігепеУ This poem is not excei)tional in its incomprehensibility. I have read several poems by Mallarme, and they also had no meaning whatever. I give a sample of his prose in Appendix I. There is a whole volume of this prose, called Divagations.''^ It is impossible to understand any of it. And that is evidently what the author intended.

And here is a song by Maeterlinck, another celebrated author of to-day: — Quand il est sorti, {Dentendis la jporte) Quand il est sorti Elle avait souri...Mais quand il entra {J'entendis la lampe) Mais quand il entra Une autre etait Id...Et fai vu la mort, (Eentendis son dme) Et fai vu la mort Qui Vattend encore...On est venu dire^ {Mon enfant fai peur) On est venu dire Qu4l allait partir...^ This sonnet seems too unintelligible for translation. — Trans.

WHAT IS ATT?

93 Ma lam'pe _allumee^ {Mon enfant fai peur) Ma lampe allumee Me suis approcliee...A la premiere porte, {Mon enfant fai регіг) A la premiere porte, La fiamme a tremble...A la seconde porte^ {Mon enfant fai peur) A la seconde porte^ La flamme a parle...A la troisieme porte, {Mon enfant fai peur) A la troisieme porte, La lumiere est morte...Et s4l revenait un jour Que faut-il lui dire? Dites-lui qrHon Vattendit Jusqufi s^en mourir...Et s4l demande ou vous etes Que faut-il repondre? Donne7Aui mon anneau d'or Sans rien lui ripondre...Et s4l mHnteiToge alors Sur la derniere lieure?

Dites lui que fai souri De peur qiCil ne pleure...94 WHAT IS ART?

Et s4l mHnterroge encore Sans me reconnaitre?

Parlez-lui comme une soeui\ II souffre peut-etre...Et s4l veut savoir pourquoi La sdlle est deserte?

Montrez lui la lampe eteinte Et la porte ouverte..

Wlio went out? Who came in? Who is speaking? Who died?

I beg the reader to be at the pains of reading through the samples I cite in Appendix II. of the celebrated and esteemed young poets — Griffin, Verhaeren, Moreas, and Montesquiou. It is important to do so in order to form a clear conception of the present position of art, and not to suppose, as many do, that Decadentism is an accidental and transitory phenomenon. To avoid the reproach of having selected the worst verses, I have copied out of each volume the poem which happened to stand on page 28.