Nouvelles et contes I, 1820–1832; II, 1832–1850 (review)

In January 1838, while revising the text of La Peau de chagrin for the illustrated edition that was intended to launch the series of Études sociales, Balzac confided to Madame Hanska that while far too many people persisted in viewing the book as a mere novel, serious readers, those capable of appreciating its true worth were growing more numerous every day. It would doubtless have given him satisfaction to know that, from Spoelberch de Lovenjoul onwards, the ranks of those "vrais appréciateurs" would continue to swell; and that despite their differences of emphasis – the spending or hoarding of psychic energy for Bardèche, unity of composition in both individual novels and the Comédie as a whole for Anthony Pugh, prophetic insights into the workings of modern capitalism for Pierre Barbéris – the vast majority of 20th century professional balzaciens would prove only too happy to read the novels in the terms set out in the Davin Introductions and the 1842 Avant propos, and in a form, the canonical "Furne corrigé," that came as close as posterity can to the author's known final intentions regarding his texts.

In recent years, however, following up certain suggestions in Nicole Mozet's Balzac au pluriel (1990) and, more generally, reflecting the growing interest in book history associated with Roger Chartier and his disciples, there has emerged a new perspective, a desire to read Balzac outside the framework of the Comédie humaine, in other words not as he intended to be read, but as he was read, historically speaking, by contemporary readers, in the form in which his fictional works originally appeared, irrespective of any subsequent modifications or indeed of whether or not they eventually found their way into what he grandly referred to as l'œuvre cathédrale. Tim Farrant's Balzac's shorter fictions (2002), Andrew Oliver's monumental project to publish the entire Comédie in the form in which the works originally appeared, beginning with Le Dernier Chouan (Éditions de l'Originale, 2005), and now Isabelle Tournier's hefty 2-volume anthology of Nouvelles et contes in Gallimard's "Quarto" series are all symptomatic of this new, aggressively historicist approach.

Similar in appearance to Laffont's "Bouquins" and presumably designed with the same market appeal, combining up-to-date expert scholarship with value for money – at less than 60 euros for the pair, weighing in at a combined 2.6 kilos, it is hard to imagine ever getting more book for one's buck – this anthology, as a material object, is a remarkable example of modern print technology. As a general rule, with a single exception dating back to my childhood, the Herbert Jenkins edition of Jeeves Omnibus – gros pavé s'il en fut jamais – of which the author claimed in his 1932 Preface that it was "infinitely preferable in an inter-dormitory brawl to Caeser's Commentaries in limp cloth" – I am averse to books with more than 1200 pages, especially ones made in France; but these volumes, beautifully and generously illustrated with contemporary drawings and lithographs, opened up easily and showed no signs of falling apart after several months' prolonged usage. Notwithstanding the sheer dimensions of the enterprise – one can be very fond of Balzac and still find 3700 pages of his prose somewhat intimidating – and the "buyer beware" opening words of the editor's Introduction ("Attendez-vous à être surpris. C'est-à-dire, interdit, choqué, dérouté. Mais aussi saisi, séduit et emporté. Autant l'avouer d'emblée, le Balzac que voici ne se ressemble pas, ne ressemble pas au Balzac familier, rendu familier par des décennies d'exégèses érudites ou d'évocations pittoresques"), the anthology itself turns out to be remarkably user-friendly. The overall plan is quite straightforward: to reproduce the entire corpus of Balzac...