The Fifth Desk · Evaluation
Act I · The Map
Honoré de Balzac · a novel · serialised in the Revue de Paris, December 1834 to February 1835, and issued in volume in March 1835 · scored on Balzac’s final text, as he corrected it for the Furne edition of La Comédie humaine, read from knowledge in his French; no text in hand, French quoted only where its words are certain, with the desk’s plain English beneath, and Marion Ayton Crawford’s translation (1951) and A. J. Krailsheimer’s (1991) for sense
Mode
Novel of Parisian society and of education; three stories in one house, told by a narrator who describes, explains and generalises
Mythos
Lear transposed into the bourgeois age, without a Cordelia; the tempter offering a young man the kingdoms of the world; the young man from the provinces, fixed here as an archetype
Phase
From late November 1819 in the Maison Vauquer, through Vautrin’s arrest, the Beauséant ball and Goriot’s dying, all within a few days, to his burial at Père-Lachaise in February 1820 and a challenge thrown down at dusk
Presentation
Fiction; a long opening description of the pension and its lodgers before anything happens; three strands braided through one witness, Rastignac; set pieces built to a curtain
Register
The narrator’s description and essay, the lodgers’ table talk and its jokes, the salon’s tact, Goriot’s laments, and Vautrin’s argot
Scale
One boarding house and the city it looks down on, from the attic to the old aristocracy and the bank, across one winter, with the Revolution and the Empire behind it
Governing Proposition
In a boarding house on the slope of the Montagne Sainte-Geneviève a retired vermicelli maker who has stripped himself for his two married daughters, a law student from Angoulême entering society through his cousin, and a lodger who is an escaped convict live under one roof through one winter, and their three stories are one argument. The wager of the novel is that in a society where money has become the one measure every bond is converted into it, the family first, so that a love which gives without limit is consumed by those it feeds; and that a house, its floors, its furniture and the price of its dinners, can be made to show that law at work from the attic to the faubourg Saint-Germain.
Act II · The Essay
Movement I
The novel opens on a house. The Maison Vauquer is a boarding house in the rue Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève, on the slope of the Montagne Sainte-Geneviève, between the Latin Quarter and the faubourg Saint-Marceau, and Mme Vauquer, née de Conflans, has kept it for forty years. Before anything happens there are many pages of dining room, wallpaper, smell and lodgers, and near the opening a warning, written in English in the French text: “All is true”. The drama to come, the narrator insists, is neither a fiction nor a novel.
The description looks removable and is not. The house is the book’s first proposition, that a milieu shapes and reveals the people in it, and Mme Vauquer is its emblem: her person explains the pension, and the pension her person. The building is a vertical society. The landlady and the best lodgers have the first floor; students and servants live among the rest; and on the third floor lives Goriot, who has climbed there floor by floor as his money went. The descent of a man is measured as a staircase. It is late November 1819, under the Restoration.
Balzac wrote the book in the autumn of 1834. It ran in the Revue de Paris from December 1834 to February 1835 and was issued in volume in March 1835. The text scored is his final one, as he corrected it for the Furne edition of La Comédie humaine, the basis of the modern Pléiade, with the serial and first editions known. It is the first book in which he brought characters back on a large scale: Eugène de Rastignac, a student of law from Angoulême who lodges here, had already appeared older in La Peau de chagrin (1831), and is given his youth in this novel.
Movement II
Goriot was a vermicelli maker. He made his fortune by speculating in grain during the Revolution, and he has turned it into the dowries of his two daughters, Anastasie de Restaud and Delphine de Nucingen, the wife of the banker Nucingen. Their husbands have become his creditors. He is let into their houses by the back stairs. His decline is told in objects: his shirts, his silver, his hair powder, each going as the money goes. To pay a daughter’s debts he twists a porringer of silver gilt into an ingot.
The pattern under him is Lear’s, transposed into the bourgeois age: a father who has divided his kingdom, which is his capital, between two daughters, and is shut out. There is no Cordelia. That is the book’s darker turn on the pattern, and its harder knowledge: the father’s love is not only betrayed but is itself a passion, as blind as any other, and it feeds the daughters who consume it. Whether that love is virtue or vice, the book leaves for the reader to decide.
Rastignac enters society through his cousin, the vicomtesse de Beauséant. Each day he crosses Paris from the pension to the faubourg Saint-Germain, or to the Chaussée-d’Antin of the new money, and back again; the alternation of the pension’s soup and the salon’s brilliance is the comparison the book exists to make. His mother and sisters in Angoulême send him their savings.
Movement III
Among the lodgers is Vautrin, who is the escaped convict Jacques Collin, called Trompe-la-Mort. In the arbour of the pension he gives Rastignac a lesson that made the book a proverb: a fortune made fast is made by a crime; society is a field of spiders in a pot; honesty is a luxury of the poor and is not rewarded. He offers the young man the kingdoms of the world for a crime he need not commit himself. The salon of the vicomtesse, the book makes clear, teaches the same lesson in better clothes.
Rastignac puts a question to his friend Bianchon, the medical student, in the Luxembourg: whether one would kill a mandarin in China by a wish, to be rich. He credits Rousseau with it. Meanwhile the Taillefer duel is arranged off stage, and it makes Victorine Taillefer an heiress. The mechanism shows: here the book’s knowledge is served by contrivance rather than by necessity.
The pension sells Vautrin to the police, to Gondureau, for three thousand francs. He is drugged in his wine and struck on the shoulder to show the brand, and he rises before the police as a man of terrible grandeur. Whether his offer to Rastignac has been refused or only postponed, the book does not say. He goes on into later books of the Comédie humaine as its devil.
Movement IV
Mme de Beauséant is abandoned for a marriage portion. On the night she is left she holds her farewell ball in full brilliance, and then leaves Paris for her estate. The aristocracy throws away its own as the daughters throw away their father. The book has timed its strands so that Vautrin’s arrest, the ball and Goriot’s dying fall within a few days of one another, each throwing the others into relief.
Goriot dies on his pallet at the Maison Vauquer, calling for daughters who do not come. He curses them, and then he blesses them. While he is dying, one of them dresses for a ball. Rastignac and Bianchon nurse him, the student of law and the student of medicine, and it is they who pay for his burial.
He is buried at Père-Lachaise in February 1820. The daughters send their carriages, empty, with their arms on the doors. The one person in the book who would not sell has been sold by his own, and the law that governs the dinner table of the pension, the salon of the faubourg and the convict’s argot alike is complete: everything is bought, everyone has a price, and the passion that will not calculate destroys whoever has it.
Movement V
Rastignac stays alone in the cemetery as dusk falls. Below him lies Paris, between the place Vendôme and the dome of the Invalides. He buries there his last tear, and he throws down his challenge: “À nous deux maintenant !”
“It’s between the two of us now!” They are the last words of the novel.
Then he goes from the cemetery to dine with Delphine de Nucingen, the daughter of the man he has just buried. Whether the last words are a challenge to society or a capitulation to it, the book leaves open, and readers have argued it for nearly two centuries. His name entered French as a common noun for the ambitious young man who climbs, and the young man from the provinces, the figure this book did more than any other to fix, became one of the archetypes of the novel.
The characters go on. Vautrin, Bianchon, Gobseck the usurer, Maxime de Trailles and the Nucingens return in later books, and in writing this one Balzac decided that his novels would share one population and one society, a wager on a single work he could not know he would live to complete. The book is its threshold. Its matter has outlived its moment: in 2013 Thomas Piketty took Vautrin’s lesson on inheritance and labour as a text for the inequality of the twenty-first century.
Act III · The Twelve
The test is subtractive, and the spine passes it. Remove Vautrin and Rastignac’s education has no tempter, so the choice at the end is no choice; remove Mme de Beauséant and nothing shows the aristocracy throwing away its own as the daughters throw away their father; remove Goriot and the education has no price. The long opening description of the pension looks removable and is not: the house is the book’s first proposition, that a milieu shapes and reveals its people. What holds the axis lowest of the twelve is contrivance and repetition. The Taillefer duel, arranged off stage to make Victorine an heiress, is a mechanism; Goriot’s protestations of love recur past the point where each adds; and the narrator’s generalisations about Paris and about women restate what the scenes have shown.
Score: 8.3 / 10
The disclosure can be stated, and it holds: in a society where money has become the one measure, every bond is converted into it, the family first, and a love that gives without limit is consumed by those it feeds. Goriot has turned his fortune into his daughters’ dowries and their husbands into his creditors, and he is let into their houses by the back stairs. Beside it stands the disclosure that made the book a proverb, Vautrin’s lesson to Rastignac in the arbour: that a fortune made fast is made by a crime, and that honesty is a luxury of the poor and goes unrewarded. The book does not let the convict be simply wrong, since the vicomtesse’s salon teaches the same lesson in better clothes. Held off the top because the father’s passion is rendered more than understood, and the moralising sometimes states what the action already holds.
Score: 9.0 / 10
Elevation comes as pathos and as dread, and it recurs. The death of Goriot is the summit: the old man on his pallet at the Maison Vauquer calling for daughters who do not come, cursing them and then blessing them, while one of them dresses for a ball. The arrest of Vautrin is the second: the drugged convict struck on the shoulder to show the brand, rising before the police as a man of terrible grandeur. Mme de Beauséant’s farewell ball, held in full brilliance on the night she is abandoned, is the third, and the last page, Rastignac alone in the cemetery at dusk with Paris below him, is among the famous endings in the European novel. Held below the top because the register between these heights is often loud, and the pathos is pressed.
Score: 8.6 / 10
Myth built, not evoked, on three load-bearing figures. Goriot is Lear transposed into the bourgeois age: a father who has divided his kingdom, which is his capital, between two daughters, is shut out, and dies raving at them, with no Cordelia, the book’s darker turn on the pattern. Vautrin is the tempter on the mountain, offering a young man the kingdoms of the world for a crime he need not commit himself, and he returns through La Comédie humaine as its devil. Rastignac is the young man from the provinces, an archetype this book did more than any other to fix; his name entered French as a common noun for the ambitious arriviste. The particular stays particular: the vermicelli, the silver gilt porringer twisted into an ingot, the Beauséant carriages. Held a step down because the Lear pattern is announced as loudly as it is constructed.
Score: 9.0 / 10
The inheritance is the novel of manners, the roman noir and the melodrama of the boulevards, Scott’s historical novel, which Balzac openly took as his model, and the eighteenth-century novel of education. The turn is in two things. The milieu is made causal: the house, the street, the furniture and the price of every dinner are forces that make character, and description becomes an argument. And the characters return: in writing this novel Balzac decided that his books would share one population and one society, a wager on a single work of a hundred volumes that he could not know he would live to make good. The book also joins the melodrama’s machinery, the convict, the drugged wine, the duel, to a realism of money the melodrama never had. Held below the top because those inherited materials stay visible, and the full break is the Comédie humaine, of which this is the threshold.
Score: 8.8 / 10
Change the form and the book stops knowing what it knows. The boarding house is the instrument: a vertical society in one building, the landlady and the best lodgers on the first floor, Goriot climbing floor by floor to the third as his money goes, so that the descent of a man is measured as a staircase. From that house Rastignac crosses Paris to the faubourg Saint-Germain and the Chaussée-d’Antin and back each day, and the alternation of the pension’s soup and the salon’s brilliance is the comparison the book exists to make. Three strands braided through one witness give three answers to one question, how to rise in Paris: by the father’s sacrifice, by the aristocrat’s grace, by the convict’s crime. Told as Goriot’s story alone it would be a pathetic tale. Held off the top by the narrator’s essays, where the form becomes a container for the author’s sociology.
Score: 8.7 / 10
Evidence rather than promise, over nearly two centuries. The readings are many and do not cancel: Marx and Engels’s Balzac, the historian of the bourgeoisie; Lukács’s, the realist who saw truer than his royalism; Auerbach’s chapter in Mimesis on the Vauquer description as the unity of milieu and person; the structuralists, and the readers of Vautrin’s desire for Rastignac, which the book leaves legible and unstated; and Thomas Piketty’s Capital in the Twenty-First Century (2013), which takes Vautrin’s lesson on inheritance and labour as a text for modern inequality. The questions hold open: whether Goriot’s love is virtue or a passion as blind as any other, whether Rastignac’s last words challenge society or capitulate to it, whether Vautrin’s offer is refused or only postponed. Held a step down because those questions, though real, lie near a loud surface.
Score: 8.8 / 10
The field is the French novel of the nineteenth century and, as it spread, the European novel. The intrinsic force is high: this is where the realist novel of society becomes a system, a fictional world with its own population, economy and history, which characters leave and re-enter, and the linked cycle descends from it. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: Zola’s Rougon-Macquart takes the cycle and the milieu as its method; Dostoevsky, who had translated Eugénie Grandet, gives Raskolnikov a version of the question Rastignac puts to Bianchon in the Luxembourg, whether one would kill a mandarin in China by a wish in order to be rich; Henry James wrote on Balzac as the master of the novel; Proust and Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha stand in the line. Held below the top because the reach is shared with the Comédie humaine as a whole, and Illusions perdues carries the young man further.
Score: 9.1 / 10
Survival is weighed over about one hundred and ninety years, in the band for seventy years to two centuries. The text survives whole, in Balzac’s revised version, with the serial and first editions known; nothing is lost, and nothing is charged on form. It has been in print without break since 1835, is the most read of Balzac’s novels in France and abroad, has been set in French schools and universities for generations, translated into the major languages more than once, and filmed and staged repeatedly; its names are in the language: a Rastignac, a Vautrin, a Maison Vauquer. Its surface is fixed to its moment, Restoration Paris, the dowry, the price of a dinner in francs, and it has outlived those conditions. Held just below the widest figure because its presence outside France is narrower than that of the most read European novels of its century, and much of it is in the academy.
Score: 9.1 / 10
Judged on Balzac’s French. The command is of construction and the scene: the three strands are timed so that Vautrin’s arrest, the Beauséant ball and Goriot’s dying fall within a few days of one another, each throwing the others into relief, and the set pieces, the arbour, the arrest, the deathbed, the ball, the cemetery, are built with a dramatist’s sense of the curtain. The portraits are exact and fixed in objects: Mme Vauquer, whose person explains the pension and the pension her person; Goriot’s decline told in his shirts, his silver and his hair powder. Vautrin’s speech is an aria of cynicism in an argot wholly his own. The charges are long recognised: haste, a prose that repeats and generalises, a narrator who explains, melodrama in the machinery, and laments that tip into rhetoric. The making bears the load in the structure more than in the sentence.
Score: 8.5 / 10
Take the two most distant elements: the dinner table of the Maison Vauquer, with the lodgers’ jokes in “-rama” and Poiret and Mlle Michonneau, and the salon of the vicomtesse de Beauséant in the faubourg Saint-Germain; or the convict’s slang of the bagne and the tact of the duchesse de Langeais. One law governs them: everything is bought and everyone has a price, and passion, the one force that will not calculate, destroys whoever has it. The pension sells Vautrin to the police for three thousand francs; the faubourg sells Mme de Beauséant for a marriage portion; the daughters sell their father for a ball; Goriot alone does not sell, and dies of it. Vautrin’s law and the salon’s are the same law, said plainly. Charged because the melodramatic devices obey the stage’s physics more than the book’s.
Score: 8.8 / 10
Many orders, held in one house and the city it looks down on. Consciousness, in Rastignac’s slow corruption and his scruple. The family: Goriot and his daughters, Rastignac’s mother and sisters in Angoulême who send him their savings, the Restaud and Nucingen marriages. Money in all its forms: the grain speculation by which Goriot made his fortune in the Revolution, the dowry, the bank, usury in Gobseck, debt, inheritance. Class in its layers, from the pension through the bourgeoisie and the new money of the Chaussée-d’Antin to the old aristocracy. Crime and the police, in Vautrin and Gondureau; medicine in Bianchon; the law in the student; the Revolution and the Empire behind the Restoration. They are integrated through Rastignac, who passes through every layer. Held below the top because labour is past and offstage, the sacred is present only as figure, and the natural order is absent: this is the city alone, in one winter.
Score: 8.6 / 10
Act IV · The Reckoning
8.8 / 10 · Final Average
Placement: Tier IV · Canonical
Strongest Dimensions
Pressure on Tradition and The Imperishable at 9.1, then The Unconcealment and The Archetypal Deep at 9.0. The book where the realist novel of society becomes a system of returning characters, with a line through Zola, Dostoevsky and James; a text in print without break since 1835 and in the language as names; a disclosure that every bond is converted into money, the family first; and three figures, the father without a Cordelia, the tempter and the young man from the provinces, built and not evoked.
Limiting Dimension
The Inevitable at 8.3, held by contrivance and repetition: the Taillefer duel arranged off stage as a mechanism, Goriot’s laments recurring past their point, and the narrator’s generalisations restating what the scenes have shown. Next above it, The Made at 8.5: the construction and the scene are commanded, and the prose carries its haste, its repetition and its explaining narrator. The sound of Balzac’s French beyond the sentences certain here is neither credited nor charged.
The Necessity Cap clears at 8.3 against a threshold of 7.5. The Coherence Floor clears with room: The Inner Law at 8.8, The Living Form at 8.7, The Made at 8.5, each against 7.0. The Epochal Gate is met on all five: Pressure on Tradition at 9.1, The Imperishable at 9.1, The Unconcealment at 9.0, The Archetypal Deep at 9.0 and The Swerve at 8.8 clear the bar of 8.5, the last by three tenths. The Universal Minimum is met (no axis falls below 8.3, against 7.5) and The Encompassed, which is exempted, clears its own floor of 6.0 at 8.6. Every summit condition is met; the work is held below the summit by its aggregate alone, 8.8.
Basis · a reading from knowledge of Honoré de Balzac’s Le Père Goriot, scored as a complete novel in Balzac’s French, in his final text as he corrected it for the Furne edition of La Comédie humaine, the basis of the modern Pléiade edition. The book was written in the autumn of 1834, serialised in the Revue de Paris from December 1834 to February 1835 and issued in volume in March 1835; the serial and first editions are known and are version history only. No text was in hand; nothing was measured on a text, and no quotation was checked against a file. Every axis is judged on Balzac’s French. French is quoted only where its words are certain: the warning “All is true”, in English in the French, and the last words of the novel, with the desk’s own plain English beneath; no published translation is quoted. Translation · Marion Ayton Crawford’s Penguin translation (1951) is the version best known to this reading for an English reader’s voice, and A. J. Krailsheimer’s Oxford translation (1991) was used for sense; Ellen Marriage’s older version, the one most often reprinted, is named. None is in hand, none is quoted, and nothing in any of them is charged to the novel. The structure, the three strands, the set pieces and the book’s place in the Comédie humaine are judged in full; the cadence of the French sentence by sentence is beyond this reading, and is neither credited nor charged. Facts that could not be verified, among them the division of the first editions into chapters and the titles of those chapters, the date and section of the book’s placing in the Furne edition and its dedication, the length of the novel in words, and the exact wording of two famous phrases often attributed to the narrator and to Vautrin, are not given. No citation by chapter is made.