"It would be magnified."
"Would our eyes be magnified too?" said Gazonal, looking at his two
friends significantly.
"Man will return to what he was before he became degenerate; our six-
feet men will then be dwarfs."
"Is your picture finished?" asked Leon.
"Entirely finished," replied Dubourdieu. "I have tried to see Hiclar,
and get him to compose a symphony for it; I wish that while viewing my
picture the public should hear music a la Beethoven to develop its
ideas and bring them within range of the intellect by two arts. Ah! if
the government would only lend me one of the galleries of the Louvre!"
"I'll mention it, if you want me to do so; you should never neglect an
opportunity to strike minds."
"Ah! my friends are preparing articles; but I am afraid they'll go too
far."
"Pooh!" said Bixiou, "they can't go as far as the future."
Dubourdieu looked askance at Bixiou, and continued his way.
"Why, he's mad," said Gazonal; "he is following the moon in her
courses."
"His skill is masterly," said Leon, "and he knows his art, but
Fourierism has killed him. You have just seen, cousin, one of the
effects of ambition upon artists. Too often, in Paris, from a desire
to reach more rapidly than by natural ways the celebrity which to them
is fortune, artists borrow the wings of circumstance, they think they
make themselves of more importance as men of a specialty, the
supporters of some 'system'; and they fancy they can transform a
clique into the public.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76