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Updated: June 17, 2025
Why is it that a reader, who, although he has crossed the ocean many times, has never cared to enter the engine-room of a liner, is yet willing enough to meet on intimate terms Mr. Kipling's engineer, Mac Andrew? And why is it that ladies who, in actual society, are fastidious of their acquaintanceship, should yet associate throughout a novel with the Sapho of Daudet?
It is not then surprising that Continental critics rank Sapho as its author's greatest production; it is more in order to wonder what Daudet might not have done in this line of work had his health remained unimpaired. The later novels, in which he came near to joining forces with the naturalists and hence to losing some of the vogue his eclecticism gave him, need not detain us.
It was after dinner, and they were lingering over their coffee until it should be time to stroll in for an hour or so to the opera. "By-the-way," he said after a pause, "have you read any of those books I got for you any of the French ones?" Her face set somewhat, but she looked up at him, and answered without hesitation: "Yes. I have read the 'Nana, 'La Terre, 'Madame Bovary, and 'Sapho."
Critics often reproach Mlle. de Scudéry for having portrayed herself—as Sapho—in a flattering light in her novel Cyrus; but it must be remembered that at that time this was a common custom, women of the highest quality indulging in such pastimes, there even being a prominent salon where verbal portraiture was the sole occupation.
Sapho is the most concentrated of his novels, with never a divergence, never a break, in its development. And of the theme legitimate marriage contra common-law what need be said except that he handled it in a manner most acceptable to the aesthetic and least offensive to the moral sense?
It has many queer attributes, and hops about like a rabbit. She also owns Sapho, who was bred by Ella Wheeler Wilcox from her Madame Ref and Mr. Stevens's Ajax, an uncommonly handsome white Angora. The sire of Topso and Sylvia was Musjah, owned by Mr. Ferdinand Danton, a New York artist.
He could not have been more horrified had the books been "Mademoiselle de Maupin," "Nana," "La Terre," "Madame Bovary," and "Sapho"; yet, had women been taught to read the former and reflect upon them, our sacred humanity might have been saved sooner from the depth of degradation depicted in the latter. The discovery of these books was an adding of alkali to the acid of Mr.
The art of Réjane accepts things as they are, without selection or correction; unlike Duse, who chooses just those ways in which she shall be nature. What one remembers are little homely details, in which the shadow, of some overpowering impulse gives a sombre beauty to what is common or ugly. She renders the despair of the woman whose lover is leaving her by a single movement, the way in which she wipes her nose. To her there is but one beauty, truth; and but one charm, energy. Where nature has not chosen, she will not choose; she is content with whatever form emotion snatches for itself as it struggles into speech out of an untrained and unconscious body. In "Sapho" she is the everyday "Venus toute entière
And I said I wanted to stand on Mars' Hill, where Paul preached to the people about idolatry and their worship of the Unknown God. As we sailed along the shores Dorothy spoke of Sapho. Poor creeter! I wuz always sorry for her. You know she wuz disappointed, and bein' love-sick and discouraged she writ some poetry and drownded herself some time ago.
In the second place, we must bravely realize that the morality of a work of fiction has little or no dependence on the subject that it treats. It is utterly unjust to the novelist to decide, as many unreasonable readers do, that such a book as Daudet's "Sapho" must be of necessity immoral because it exhibits immoral characters in a series of immoral acts.
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