A while back, in March, most likely, I was browsing at a local used book shop and came across Pages From the Goncourt Journals and bought it, not necessarily because I had ever heard of the work or was too particularly interested, but because it was published by NYRB. Yes, dear reader(s), I am a publisher snob. Oh, I do own a Reader's Digest Book Club edition of Moby Dick, but the damn thing is something of a thorn in my side, and I am putting the Penguin version on my birthday list this year. But I degress! Ahem:
While pondering Bourget for a class the name Goncourt appeared, and I immediately rushed over to the library to see what tomes about or by them were available. Until this moment I had kind of written the Journals off and came close to selling the book on a number of occasions, but a light had gone off, and now it seemed necessary to find out more about them.
I found two different English translations of the Journals, the complete French text (why, WHY did I give up on French???), and the brothers' novels and plays, and checked out the English translations. One is quite inferior, translated by Lewis Galantiere, and the other appears to be the standard (as well as the one published by NYRB), by Robert Baldick.
The lives of the brothers Goncourt, or dare I say life, is on the one hand absolutely compelling and quite touching, indeed: two inseparable siblings penning a journal of their mutual exploits, thoughts, and acquaintances. At once they were men of the society and reviled by it. I love how mercurial they were, as well as their rotten constitutions. On the other hand, the two were disagreeable on so many levels, but the genius of the work and their overall talent overshadows their less savory qualities. I'd highly recommend it if you have even a modicum of interest in 19th century lit, French lit, precursors to fin de siecle, belle epoque, or dabble in literature steeped in debauchery.
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This quarter has me flustered already, but never fear, recipes and more are on the way!
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