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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Alfred de Musset was a peculiar type of a peculiar time. He did not imagine: he felt, he lived, he was himself, and was original, like a new variety of flower or a new species of insect. Tennyson has gleaned from everybody's fields: our Alfred gathered only from his own. The one is made, the other is born." "Come away," said Afra impatiently: "no one can speak while Anita is on her hobby.
Jean was neither surprised nor excessively shocked to hear that she had a lover, because having studied the ways of the ladies of the theatre in the proverbs in verse of Alfred de Musset, he pictured the life of Parisian actresses without exception as one continual feast of wit and gallantry. He loved her; with or without Didier, he loved her.
In the rich conflict of genius were Gautier, Schumann, and the rest. All was romance, fantasy, and passion, and the young men heard the moon sing silvery you remember De Musset! and the leaves rustle rhythms to the heart-beats of lovers. "Away with the gray- beards," cried he of the scarlet waistcoat, and all France applauded "Ernani."
It was in August, 1833, at a dinner given by Buloz to the staff of the Revue des Deux Mondes, that George Sand first made the personal acquaintance of Alfred de Musset, then in his twenty-third year, and already famous through his just published poem, Rolla, and his earlier dramas, Andrea del Sarto and Les Caprices de Marianne.
It is a subject to paint, which has never been well treated; the passionate friendships of a Tattet for a Musset, of an Eckermann for a Goethe, of an Asselineau for a Beaudelaire, the total absorption of the admirer in the admired. Florent found that the genius of the great painter had need of a fortune, and he gave him his sister.
She had been so strictly brought up that nearly all secular reading was forbidden to her, and she had never been to any theatre, not even the Theatre Francais. She had not read Victor Hugo, Lamartine, or Musset, had not even dared to read Paul et Virginie, only knew expurgated editions of Corneille, Racine and Moliere.
"Lady Kitty," he said, taking a seat beside the pair, "have you forgotten you promised me some French?" Kitty turned on him a hot and mutinous face. "Did I? What shall I say? Some Alfred de Musset?" "No," said the Dean, "I think not." "Some some" she cudgelled her memory "some Théophile Gautier?" "No, certainly not!" said the Dean, hastily. "Well, as I don't know a word of him " laughed Kitty.
It has been said of Feuillet that he was a sort of "domesticated Musset." At any rate, he was far less sensitive than Musset, and George Sand was about seventeen years his senior.
This sort of man, in English-speaking lands, is set down simply as a cad, and is excluded from people's houses; but in some other countries the thing is regarded with a certain amount of toleration. We see it in the two books written respectively by Alfred de Musset and George Sand.
"How do you know that you who're beyond criticism and perfect?" asked Sherringham: an inquiry to which the answer was forestalled by the girl's rousing herself to make it public that she could recite the "Nights" of Alfred de Musset. "Diable!" said the actress: "that's more than I can! By all means give us a specimen."
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