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"People who go to the theatre don't generally notice the name of the author," I commented. "I do," she said. "I'm interested in the theatre. I've read dozens of plays, in French, mostly. I don't think the English comedies are nearly so well done. Of course, the French have only one subject, but they are so much more witty. Have you ever read Les Hannetons, for instance?" "No.
Le Tire-botte a l'Odalisque. Six Entrees. Saute de Hannetons a l'Epingliere. Cotelettes a la Megatherium. Bourrasque de Veau a la Palsambleu. Laitances de Carpe en goguette a la Reine Pomare. Turban de Volaille a l'Archeveque de Cantorbery." And so on with the entremets, and hors d'oeuvres, and the rotis, and the releves. "Madame will see that the dinners are quite simple," said M. Cavalcadour.
Even to a mere outsider, an idle bystander of the boulevards, this complete exposure of the social, moral, and political hypocricies of a nation seemed exceptionally brutal. Les Affaires sont les Affaires is pure theatre, perhaps, but it might be considered the best play produced in France between Becque's La Parisienne and Brieux's Les Hannetons.
Pécuchet was amazed above all at Jénin. What! z'annetons would be better than hannetons, z'aricots than haricots! and, under Louis XIV., the pronunciation was Roume and Monsieur de Lioune, instead of Rome and Monsieur de Lionne! Littré gave them the finishing stroke by declaring that there never had been, and never could be positive orthography.
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