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Published online by Cambridge University Press: 02 December 2020
Can Dominique's life be construed as a success or a failure? The hero not only gives up Madeleine, the woman he loves, but passion in its most idealistic form, by marrying a woman whose name is not even mentioned. Although an encounter between Dominique and his family suggests an idyllic painting, although his marriage brings the rewards of peace and serenity, it can be considered a compromise. Together with his impossible love, Dominique gives up his literary ambition. He thus accepts once and for all the mediocrity of his talents. Denial of both creativity and ambition may strike one as tantamount to resignation and defeat. To this self-imposed restriction in regard to emotion and creative action corresponds significantly a refusal to explore the outer world. Dominique will not leave the community of which, in accordance with family tradition, he has become mayor. He has traced a circle around his existence, as though to ward off danger and risk. Using Dominique's own words, one could claim that he leads a life of refusal, dedicated primarily to the gratuitous obliteration of his faults.
1 “Romanticism in Dominique,” French Studies, xii (Jan. 1958), 56. See also G. J. Greshoff, “Fromentin's Dominique: An Analysis”: “The past never ceases to be part of Dominique: his study, where the symbols of his past are preserved, is part of the house where Dominique, Mayor and Père de Famille, now lives”—Essays in Criticism, xi (April 1961), 181.
2 Französicke Marksteine (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1958), p. 236. I also agree with this critic's statement that the author does not explain fully what gave the lovers the strength for the final separation.
3 It is appropriate to quote Jean-Pierre Richard's interpretation: “Car l'harmonie ne naît point du hasard; c'est la durée qui a tout ici mÛri et marié. Il a fallu que les choses vivent longuement côte à côte pour que le hasard premier de leur cohabitation se fasse nécessité. C'est dans le courant d'une très lente histoire qu'elles se sont disposées les unes par rapport aux autres.” Littérature et sensation (Paris: Seuil, 1954), p. 240.
4 See Kurt Wais, p. 227: “weist das Schema auf die Nachwirkung von Goethes Wilhelm Meister und seiner Entsagenden.”
5 All page numbers refer to the 1961 Gamier edition.
6 Nevertheless, in regard to style I agree with Arthur R. Evans' statement: “The use of this intervening narrator deprives the action of any immediacy: Dominique recalls and selects in telling of his life, which in turn is reflected upon in retelling by his confidant. The story comes to us filtered through a doubly contemplative medium, and an imaginative distancing is thus achieved contributing to the novel's prevailing mood of gravity and moral seriousness.” The Literary Art of Eugène Fromentin (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1964), p. 24.
7 Similar concerns may underlie Goethe's classical theater, especially Torquato Tasso. An analogy can also be drawn with the Gidean récit, such as L'Immoraliste and La Forte étroite. Gide's protagonists refuse to control trends even when they assume dangerous proportions, trends which will ultimately absorb the entire human being.
8 Dominique does not become “calme et réfléchi” in a durable manner until much later. Madeleine's remark, like Augustin's maxim about self-discipline mentioned earlier, foreshadows the future. Statements which much later in the book become reality may corroborate the theory of a continuity (and not a sudden discovery) of the ideal of self-mastery and usefulness.
9 In the novel, the happiness and equilibrium of the women characters are related to the care they take of others. Dominique's wife looks after the people in the village. Julie's sickness becomes more acute after the death of the child she cares for.
10 It is appropriate to recall that the friendship between Dominique and the narrator matured during the year they did not see each other.
11 Grenoble: Arthaud, 1937.
12 See Albert Thibaudet, Intérieurs. “Sous cette terre classique … qu'est Dominique, on devine le rocher cornélien.” Paris: Plon, 1924, p. 175.