rest than some others. It is also that one which most directly
illustrates--on the great scale--the general principles of the
Naturalist school. Not, indeed, in specially grimy fashion, though there
is the usual adultery (_not_ behind the scenes) and the (for Maupassant)
not unusual _accouchement_. (His fondness for this most unattractive
episode of human life is astonishing: if he were a more pious person and
a political feminist, one might think that he was trying to make us
modern Adams share the curse of Eve, at least to the extent of the
disgust caused by reading about its details.) The main extra-amatory
theme throughout is the "physiologie" of an inland watering-place, its
extension by the discovery of new springs, the financing of them, the
jealousies of the doctors, the megrims of the patients, etc. All these
are treated quite on the Zolaesque scheme, but with a lightness and
beauty not often reached by the master, though common enough in the
pupil.[490] The description of Christiane Andermatt's first bath, and
the sensations of mild bliss that it gave her, is as true as it is
pretty; and others of scenery have that vividness without
over-elaboration which marks their author's work. Nor are his
ironic-human touches wanting. Almost at its birth he satirises, in his
own quiet Swiftian way, an absurd tendency which has grown mightily
since, and flourishes now: "'Tres _moderne_'--entre ses levres, etait le
comble de l'admiration." As for the love-affair itself, one's feelings
towards it are mixed. A good deal of it shows that unusual grasp of the
proper ways of the game with which Maupassant is fully credited here.
Personally, I should not, after quoting Baudelaire to a lady (so far so
good), inform her that I was a donkey for expecting her to enjoy
anything so subtle. But perhaps Paul Bretigny, though neglectful of the
Seventh Commandment, was an honester man than I am. And it is quite true
that Christiane was _not_ subtle. Her hot lover's[491] cooling partly
dated from the time when she expected him to show palpable interest in
the fact that she was likely to have a child by him. And though her cry
(on the question what name this infant, of course accepted as his own by
the unfortunate Andermatt, should bear) that as for _her_ name, "Cela
promet trop de souffrances de porter le nom du Crucifie," could not be
better as a general sentiment, the particular circumstances in which it
is uttered show a slight want of gra