First edition.
Half deal-colored shagreen over marbled paper boards, spine in six compartments, blindruled fillets to bands, marbled pastedowns and endpapers; printed library stamp of Julia-Alphonse Daudet to first endpaper.
Inscribed by Emile Zola to Alphonse Daudet.
A little foxing.
Whether they'd met before or not, Zola only really discovered Daudet in 1873 after reading his Monday Tales: “a continuous enchantment”, of “irreproachable purity”, as he wrote in L'Avenir National.
These short stories inspired by the Franco-Prussian war affected Zola deeply: “All the disasters of 1870 are here, in six pages.” A foreshadowing, according to Henri Mitterand, of Evenings at Médan and looking even further, of The Downfall (cf. Zola, volume II, p. 157).
From this initial article on, Zola maintained a stormy but indefatigable friendship with Daudet, based on mutual admiration, to which their numerous studies in the press, published all throughout their lives, bear witness.
From then on, the two Provencal writers formed a literary circle around their mutual publisher Charpentier, which included the older Flaubert, Goncourt and Turgenev, and which was to dominate the French novel in the second half of the century. Their “dinners for five”, initially known as “the booed writers' dinners” in reference to their debacles in the theatre, formed the basis of a fidelity and solidarity which, despite being shot through by artistic rivalry and ideological disagreements, lasted their entire lives.
Beyond friendship, there was a real brotherhood in arms that united these two authors, for whom literature was much more than an aesthetic adventure. As Zola noted in his homage to Daudet:
“If I had to assign a definite place to Daudet, I would say he was at the very head of the phalanx that had fought the good fight for truth in this second half of the century. The triumph of this century will be having marched towards truth by the heaviest labor any century has produced. And Daudet was with us, among the hardiest and bravest…His work…is part of our generation's huge ongoing search, and will stand as a decisive witness – the logical and solid follow-up to the social testimony Stendhal and Balzac, Flaubert and the Goncourts, have left behind.”
A number of writers in their turn reinforced this need for truth, which gave writing a mission, that of constraining literature into adhering to the modern world and bringing forth its raw material.
Aware of this responsibility, several of the five formed their own circles. For Zola, this consisted of the Evenings at Médan, while for Goncourt and Daudet, it was le Grenier and later the Académie.
But the true heirs of this school of modernity were above all to be Proust and Céline. The first was direct heir to Daudet, while the second was the spiritual son of The Drunkard and The Downfall.
This struggle for influence between Zola and his peers was not without its consequences. A year before the publication of Rêve [The Dream], the ‘Manifesto of the Five', a virulent anti-Zola tract written by some of the regulars of le Grenier and most likely inspired by Goncourt and Daudet, must have got the better of their friendship.
It was with a friendly inscription in La Terre [The Earth], the novel attacked in the pamphlet, that Zola evinced to Daudet his desire for a reconciliation (cf. Mitterrand, v. II, p. 861). A few letters and dinners later, this second friendly inscription in Le Rêve really marks the end of the final quarrel between the two writers.
Ten years later Zola, final witness of the naturalist adventure they had begun together, wrote for his “dearly beloved friend's” eulogy a moving homage to “the writer who worked so hard, the man who suffered so much, doubly my brother by grace of genius and of pain!”