150. Martin du Gard was very much Gide’s junior, both in years and in literary achievements; yet he received the Nobel Prize for literature ten years ahead of Gide. On learning the news, both Gide and the Tiny Lady were positively delirious with joy: “Martin, our Martin has got the Nobel Prize!… What happens to us is really fantastic!” (PD 3, p. 48.)
151. Journal 1, p. 805.
152. PD 4, p. 213.
153. See Pascal Mercier, introduction to Schlum., p. 22.
154. “Billet à Angèle,” in Essais critiques, pp. 289–93.
155. Reading Le Côté de Guermantes, Gide said: “It is done so well, that it makes me feel a little depressed. In comparison, my own work seems so crude!” (PD 1, p. 71.) Sodome et Gomorrhe, however, greatly upset him: he felt that Proust had slandered homosexuality by reducing it to its effeminate manifestations. (PD 1, pp. 98–9.) He found La Prisonnière exasperating: “It looks as if Proust were parodying Proust and the substance of the book is totally devoid of interest.” Still, he had to acknowledge: “It is of considerable importance for literature. After having read Proust, one can no longer be completely the same person again.” (PD 3, p. 155.)
156. And yet was he really blind to Simenon’s limitations? One may doubt it. One day, Simenon, who had lunch with Gide, told him: “The main temptation I should guard myself against is…” He searched for a phrase, and Gide immediately suggested: “The temptation to fart above your arse.” “Exactly,” said Simenon. (PD 3, p. 359.)
157. Journal 2, pp. 1, 057–8.
158. “Baudelaire et Monsieur Faguet,” in Essais critiques, pp. 248–9.
159. Criticising some pages by Duhamel, Martin du Gard was induced to extend his observations to the style of Gide himself: “The danger of being able to write well is also the ability to lend a pleasant form to thin or mediocre ideas, to ghosts of ideas… It generates the fatal temptation to give a veneer of consistency, density, weight and character to whatever comes to mind and should not deserve to be written down. Through this mechanical operation of style, one can present at little cost an appearance of thought without any effort… The shine of the varnish hides the low quality of the wood that was used.” (Martin du Gard: Journal 3, pp. 527–8.)
Gide had shown Martin a draft of the address he was going to deliver in Oxford, on being awarded a Doctorate honoris causa. Martin found that its form was very polished, but the elegance of the style could not redeem the vacuity of the content: “I told it to him very bluntly. He agreed, and for once, I regretted my frankness, for he immediately decided: ‘You are absolutely right! Tomorrow I will send them a telegram, and cancel everything!’ But I believe he will once again change his mind. As soon as I leave, it will seem to him that his speech was not so bad after all, he will read it again to himself, let his prose sing, and take delight in its subtle phrasing.” Martin guessed right: in the end, Gide went to Oxford and delivered his elegantly hollow speech. (Ibid., pp. 810–11.)
Schlumberger once pointed out to Gide a mistake he had made in a translation from Goethe, but he was shocked by Gide’s reply: “I know, I have tried to put it differently, but all my other versions lacked in rhythm.” Schlumberger commented: “I have noted this reaction, as, once again, it shows his constant willingness to sacrifice meaning to form.” (Schlum., p. 236.)
The Tiny Lady summed up: “I believe that he attaches so much importance to the question of form, that the question of content ceases somehow to interest him.” (PD 4, p. 16.) Earlier on, after reading his Journal, she put the question to him: “I confess I do not always understand why you select certain things for recording in your diary, whereas you omit other things that should have been equally, or more, interesting. Could it be that your choice is simply determined by the possibility of finding at once a form that is pleasing?” Gide confirmed the accuracy of her guess. (PD 3, p. 361.)
160. PD 4, p. 233.
161. Paul Claudeclass="underline" Journal 1, p. 969.
162. Schlum., pp. 176, 246–7.
163. PD 2, p. 376.
164. PD 3, p. 78; Sheridan, p. 525.
165. Et nunc manet in te and Journal 1, p. 1, 310; also Sheridan, p. 524.
166. This was addressed to Madeleine, and she had read it before marrying André. See Martin, p. 84.
167. Account of Martin du Gard (1920), quoted by J. Schlumberger: Madeleine et André Gide, p. 186.
168. Et nunc manet in te, pp. 1, 128–9; and Sheridan, p. 525.
169. Et nunc manet in te (in the 1960 Pléiade edition of Journal 1939–1949), p. 1, 134.
170. Schlum., pp. 178–9, 220.
171. Account of Martin du Gard, quoted in Schlumberger: Madeleine et André Gide, p. 191–2.
172. Account of the Tiny Lady, quoted in Schlumberger, op. cit., pp. 196–7.
173. Et nunc manet in te, op. cit., p. 1, 148.
174. Martin, pp. 61–2.
175. Martin, pp. 131–2.
176. PD 2, p. 70.
177. Journal 1, pp. 798–801.
178. Journal 2, pp. 487–8.
179. Journal 1, p. 720.
180. PD 2, p. 531.
181. Well described by Sheridan, pp. 445–90. Quotes not otherwise identified here are drawn from Sheridan’s account.
182. PD 2, p. 204.
183. Schlum., p. 167.
184. Martin du Gard, Journal 2 (27 November 1936), pp. 1, 208–9.
185. PD 3, p. 198.
186. PD 3, p. 201.
187. PD 3, p. 205.
188. Martin du Gard, Journal 3, p. 404.
189. Schlum., p. 266.
190. PD 4, p. 190.
191. Schlum., p. 16. (Quoted from La Porte est ouverte in Paul Mercier’s preface.)
192. Si le grain ne meurt, quoted in PD 2, p. 128; Journal 1, p. 573.