Parliamentary Conference in the rue Serpente
To Robert de Flers
I
Along with, perhaps even ahead of the glory of the actor, the glory of the man of politics is altogether the most resounding and the most direct, the most prodigiously intoxicating there could be. It was therefore completely natural to see "people of the world" wanting to participate in it and that after the theatre of society we should have the parliamentarianism of the salon - or of the conference, where young people eager for - and exempt from - honours or at least of public duties, derive pleasure from voting for laws, to appoint, to overturn cabinets, to finally be men of politics as a hobby, just as tomorrow they will become amateur coachmen, and conduct each in their turn along the highway of his dreams, the mail-coach of the state. They will understand the joys of the man of politics, and of the actor too who, peaceable bourgeois this morning, will become, this evening, at the Châtelet, general in chief, but with no army, eloquent and inobedient, who will fiercely jab at the flanks of the circus horse with spurs made of silver paper. But in an imaginary parliamentary assembly, the place of illusion that forcibly enters into the power of each one, and to the joy of all, easily changes into symbolism, and the impartial spectator who hears being proposed by a government with no reality, sees being voted by a chimerical Chamber laws that nobody dreams will be executed, asks himself if he has not come through the wrong door and if he is not in the presence of a genuine Parliament. And from the excess of illusion, from the overflow of the impossible, is born a quite self-sufficient reality.
II
Such facile comments as these
would never be directed by me to the conference that has recently
been set up in the rue Serpente and about which I have excellent
reasons for saying nothing but good. I would never be believed if
I said, even in excusing myself, that all its members are endowed
with true political genius, with boundless seriousness and
unparalleled modesty. But there is a very good proportion of very
intelligent young men among them. If one were to allow oneself
one small jest at their expense, while otherwise being quite
sympathetic, it would be with regard to their powers of delusion,
to the persistent gravity and perfect simplicity with which they
say: "The honourable president of the Council",
"my esteemed colleague", "my long-standing
statesman", "the secular abhorrence of the party you
represent", "the government that sits on these benches
has France behind it", a whole phraseology that is not quite
comical and very touching, which seems to imply that due to a
weekly miracle the body of these deputies, not all superiors,
continues all of a sudden the Monday evenings of the past,
enriching itself from the ardent and obstinate spirit of their
part since the Revolution... at least. I once saw some little
girls playing at the seaside. One of them, running with short
little steps, was pretending to be a princess in a carriage.
Another one ran after her to give her back a muff she had
forgotten, crying at the top of her voice: "Madame, Your
Royal Highness has forgotten her muff. The princess has forgotten
her muff. Your muff, princess." The little girl thanked her
with a smile and took the muff showing no surprise. In much the
same way as when somebody said to the deputy of the rue Serpente:
"Minister, sir, please accept this portfolio." But if
they were not smiling it was because deep down they took their
work very seriously, and under the eminent direction of a very
superior gentleman, M. André Lebon, their studies had assumed
much dignity, authority and an almost historic value. Because the
laws rejected in the Chamber of Deputies, and voted upon there,
will one day become precedents. They are, till then, signs of the
political orientation of the young, which seems to be more
tolerant, much more pervaded with the importance of religious
ideas than the previous generation. We are not able to list here
all the orators in the rue Serpente, having heard only a few of
them. The president of the Council who has just been overturned
for having supported academic laws, M. Paisant, pronounces and
reads out his speeches with a calm and gentle forcefulness that
is delightful. He is the most capable, by turns the most
persuasive and retiring, the most harmoniously changeable of
speakers at the rue Serpente. One could say that it is here that
he performs, with much grace and suppleness, the Serpentine
dance. Which does not prevent him from knowing what he wants and
generously sacrificing his portfolio to his ideas. M. de Calan is
the great leader from the right, with a sombre energy and
inflamed dialectic. M. de Torrès, the new president of the
Council, is also well appreciated for his sterling performance
over the audience. But M. de Soussay, very shrewd, very energetic
too, with great loftiness of opinion, is perhaps more moderate,
more ingenious, more rational. I could say the same about M.
Zevallos.
But I would have wanted to be able to sing the
praises of M. Payen, who was the triumph of the last session, who
we cannot praise too highly for his exalted ideas, his powerful
and charming talents, his wonderful officiation over the tribune.
His speech was a masterpiece and a promise of many marvels to
come. It seems that it is this that makes a thinker, an orator,
and quite simply a man of politics.
MARCEL PROUST.
P.S. - I was told that M. de Payerhimof revealed himself, at the last session where I was not present, as a dialectician and a first-rate orator.1
M.P.
Le Banquet, no 7 (February 1893).
1. These eulogies may have seemed ironic to Fernand Gregh and the other directors of Le Banquet. They felt compelled to accompany Proust's article with the following note: "Le Banquet believes it is of interest to give some account of this assembly where there can no doubt be found several of our future political leaders. But it must be understood that the opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author". Whether or not Proust took exception to this, he did not contribute to the subsequent, and as it turned out final, edition of Le Banquet.