{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59680/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59680","id":"gutenberg_59680","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59680","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Art","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Venus de Milo"],"text":"Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                                 VENUS\n\n                         TO THE VENUS OF MELOS\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  DRAWN BY GERTRUDE HUEBSCH\n]\n\n\n\n\n                                 VENUS\n\n                         TO THE VENUS OF MELOS\n\n\n                             AUGUSTE RODIN\n\n                         AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION\n                           FROM THE FRENCH BY\n                             DOROTHY DUDLEY\n\n[Illustration]\n\n                        NEW YORK: B. W. HUEBSCH\n                                  1912\n\n\n\n\n                            COPYRIGHT, 1912,\n                            BY B. W. HUEBSCH\n\n\n                           PRINTED IN U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\n                                 VENUS\n\n                         TO THE VENUS OF MELOS\n\n\nModelled by the sea, which is the reservoir of all the forces, you\nenchant us and you sway us by that grace and by that calm which strength\nalone possesses, and you bestow on us your serenity. It prevails like\nthe charm of melodies powerful and deep.\n\nWhat triumphant amplitude! What vigorous shadows!\n\nFrom the boundaries of the two worlds\u2019 throngs come to contemplate you,\nvenerated marble; and the twilight deepens in the room that you may be\nmore clearly seen, shining alone, while the silent hours pass, heavy\nwith admiration.\n\nStill you hear our clamours, immortal Venus! Having loved your\ncontemporaries, you belong to us, now, to all of us, to the universe.\nThe twenty-five centuries of your life seem only to have consecrated\nyour invincible youth. And the generations, those waves of the ocean of\nthe ages, to you, victorious over time, come and come again, attracted\nand recalled irresistibly. Admiration is not spent as a marble wears\naway.\n\nTo the poets, to the seekers, to the quiet artists, in the heart of the\ncity\u2019s tumult, you give long moments of refuge. Mutilated, you remain\nentire to their eyes. If the ravages of time have been permitted, it is\nonly that a trace may continue of their profane effort and of their\nimpotence.\n\nYou are not a vain and sterile statue, the image of some unreal goddess\nof the Empyrean. Ready for action, you breathe, you are a woman: and\nthat is your glory. You are goddess only in name; the mythological\nnectar does not run in your veins. What is divine in you is the infinite\nlove of your sculptor for nature. More ardent and above all more patient\nthan other men, he was able to lift a corner of the veil too heavy for\ntheir idle hands.\n\nAnd you are not, moreover, a mosaic of admirable shapes. There are no\nadmirable shapes, but the shapes that agree, those that summon and\npresuppose one another according to the irrefutable logic of harmonious\nnecessity, those that borrow life from one another. Yours gather in an\nindivisible whole, and it is the calm torrent of life that passes over\nyou, that torrent whence you have sprung, naked and one.\n\nCollected beauties could never have attained this unity. One detail that\nharmonized not with all the others, the least variance between the\nprofiles, and the work of art would be destroyed, a useless thing, a\nsenseless construction, renounced by the light, and doomed to all the\npoverties, to all the discords. This would be fatally the lot of even a\nclever assemblage, of even perfect pieces, chosen from different\nmarbles.\n\nBut you, you live, you think, and your thoughts are those of a woman,\nand not of I know not what superior being, foreign, imaginary,\nartificial. You are made only of truth; and it is of truth alone that\nyour omnipotence is born. There is nothing strong, there is nothing\nbeautiful outside of the truth.\n\nYour truth is within reach of everyone: it is woman, whom each one\nthinks he knows, the intimate companion of men; yet nobody has seen her,\nthe wise not more than the simple. And the trees, who looks at them? The\nlight has no spectators.\n\nNevertheless, except through confining oneself to the observation of\nreality, constant, scrupulous, and ever more profound, no one can\naccomplish anything. There are people who say to you, \u201cThe Ideal.\u201d If\nthis word is not void of meaning, it signifies only a stupidity. The\nIdeal! The Fantasy! But the realities of nature surpass our most\nambitious fancies. Our thought is but an imperceptible point in nature.\nThe part does not embrace, does not dominate the whole.\n\nMan is incapable of creating, of inventing. He can only approach nature,\nsubmissively, lovingly. For the rest, she will not disappear from his\nsight; he has but to look, she will let him see what by force of\npatience he has arrived at understanding\u2014that only. And yet the part is\nbeautiful! He is an equal of Prometheus, he, who has known how to ravish\nfrom nature the life we adore in the Venus of Melos.\n\nNothing will take the place of persevering study. To it alone the secret\nof life delivers itself. Give your life patiently, passionately to\nunderstanding life. What profit, if you come indeed to understand! You\nwill be in the circle of joy forever.\n\nTo understand, to see\u2014truly to see! Would one recoil before the\nnecessary effort, before the indispensable apprenticeship, however long\nand laborious, if he foresaw the happiness of understanding?\n\nTo understand! It is\u2014not to die!\n\nFor me the antique masterpieces are mingled in my memory with all the\npleasures of my youth; or rather the Antique is my youth itself that\nrises again to my heart and hides from me my age. In the Louvre, of old,\nlike saints to a monk in his cloister, the Olympian gods said to me all\nthat a young man might usefully hear; later they protected and inspired\nme; after an absence of twenty years, I found them again with an\nindescribable joy, and I understood them. These divine fragments, these\nmarbles, older than two thousand years, speak to me louder, move me more\nthan human beings. In its turn may the new century meditate upon these\nmarvels, and may it try to ascend to them through intelligence and love.\nIt will owe to them its highest joys. Man may be the forger of his\nhappiness.\n\nThe Antique and Nature are bound by the same mystery. The Antique\u2014it is\nthe human workman arrived at a supreme degree of mastery. But Nature is\nabove him. The mystery of Nature is even more insoluble than that of\ngenius. The glory of the Antique is in having understood Nature.\n\nO, Venus of Melos, the prodigious sculptor that fashioned you knew how\nto make the thrill of that generous nature flow in you, the thrill of\nlife itself\u2014O, Venus, arch of the triumph of life, bridge of truth,\ncircle of grace!\n\nWhat splendour in your beautiful torso seated firmly on your solid legs,\nand in those half tones that sleep upon your breasts, upon your splendid\nbelly, large like the sea! It is the rhythmic beauty of the sea without\nend.... You are in truth the mother of gods and of men.\n\nThe generative profile of that torso helps us to understand, reveals to\nus the proportions of the world. And the miracle is in this, that the\nassembled profiles, in the sense of depth, of length, and of width,\nexpress, by an incomprehensible magic, the human soul and its passions,\nand the character that shapes the heart of beings.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe ancients have obtained by a minimum of gesture, by their modelling,\nboth the individual character and the grace borrowed from grandeur that\nrelates the human form to the forms of the universal life. The modelling\nof the human being has with them all the beauty of the curved lines of\nflowers. And the profiles are secure, ample like those of great\nmountains; it is architecture. Above all they are simple; they are calm\nlike the serpents of Apollo.\n\nPerhaps it is the terms of anatomy that have had the deplorable effect\nof imposing on the mind the prejudice toward the division of the shapes\nof the body. The great geometric and magnetic line of life hence remains\nas if broken in the regard of the passer-by. This theoretical analysis\nhas altered among the uninitiated the sense of the truth.\n\nThe work of art protests against this false and factitious idea of\ndivision. Those concordant shapes that pass one into the other as\nundulate the knots of the reptile, and that suddenly penetrate, they are\nthe body in its magnificent unity.\n\nLeft to themselves the ignorant see only the apparent details of things;\nthe source of expression, the synthesis alone eloquent, escapes them. It\nis lamentable that anatomic description gives in some measure support to\nthe plastic ignorance of the multitude, in calling attention, through\nits terms, to the different parts of which the architecture of the body\nis composed. Those pedantic words, biceps, triceps, brachial or crural,\nand so many others, those current words, arms, legs, plastically have no\nsignificance. In the synthesis of the work of art, the arms, the legs,\ncount only when they meet in accordance with the planes that associate\nthem in a same effect, and it is thus in nature, who cares not for our\nanalytical descriptions. The great artists proceed as nature composes\nand not as anatomy decrees. They never sculpture any muscle, any nerve,\nany bone for itself; it is the whole at which they aim, and which they\nexpress; it is by large planes that their work vibrates in the light or\nenters into the shadow.\n\n\nThus from the point whence I am looking at the Venus of Melos, all of\nthe three-quarter profile is streaming with light, while the opposite\nside bathes in the shadow. Toward the base of this profile one just\ndistinguishes half-tones. Higher up, farther away, the head rises and\nreigns, modelled by light and shade, while the reposing lines, the\nsloping lines of the back play together their slow melodies. What\ncondescendence the long gentle lines of that back express, and the\nflight of the loins into the half-tone! Sublime pride of marble!\nTranquil life of the soul of the body! Nature is an uninterrupted\nharmony.\n\nConsider the Venus from any profile you choose. That we were just\nadmiring is of a beauty that invokes, that imposes the idea of the\neternal. But change your position; here is another profile: it is\nequally marked with the seal of the imperishable. All of them incite\nadmiration and tenderness. They are happy, at ease in the calm air.\n\nThat face has the variety and the liberty of a flower, and the artist,\nleaning attentively over it, rises as one vowed to religion: he has\nheard Venus speak.\n\nI will walk round her.... Here is another profile that shows me the\nface. There is shadow in that mouth; a moment ago there was none; to\ndrawing is added modelling, and the lines that hesitated have become\ndecided. The edge of the lips is slightly rimmed, the edge of the\nnostrils also; these are the signs of youth. The mouth has in it the\ndrawing of the school, but it is on the plane of a master. The error\nwould be to seek the measurement of the lips. It is all in the plane of\nthe head, of the cheek. That cheek, which appears to me lost in profile,\nthat cheek is all of sculpture, as one virtue is every virtue.\u2014O mouth\nso simple, so natural, so generous! It holds thousands of kisses!\nImpossible to escape its charm. Even the most ignorant visitor is\ntouched by it. How clearly one sees that the woman has posed for the\ndivinity!\n\nThe soul of shapes breathes in the profound life of this thrilling body.\nI see her magnificent armature of bones as I see her thoughts\u2014all her\ngrace hidden and present, how powerfully organized! In this form sweet\nas honey, where the eye surprises neither blacks nor violent lights, but\nwhere life flows without jerks or starts, clear as live water, one feels\nkeenly the resistance of a resolute and powerful frame! Supported by\nthese bases that will not weaken, sure of their solidity, the flesh\nbounds with joy as if it would escape the redoubled shadows deepening\nunder the breasts, that they may rise from the torso, whence glowing\nlight would seem to emanate.\n\nAnd the high adorable face gives to every one gracious welcome of life.\n\nThe shadows, the divine play of shadows on antique marbles! One might\nsay that shadows love masterpieces. They hang upon them, they make for\nthem adornment. I find only among the Gothics and with Rembrandt such\norchestras of shadows. They surround beauty with mystery; they pour\npeace over us, and allow us to hear without trouble that eloquence of\nthe flesh that ripens and amplifies the spirit. That eloquence darts on\nus the truth, diffuse as light. It is the radiancy of gladness. What\nsecret emotion invades me before the meditated grace of this design!\nIneffable passages of light into shadow! Inexpressible splendours of\nhalf tones! Nests of love! What marvels that have not yet a name in this\nsacred body! Venus Genetrix! Venus Victorum! O, total glory of grace and\nof genius!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAdmiration overtakes me like sleep.\n\n\nThe Venus of Melos is reflected by all the others: in them is\naccentuated one or another of her infinite beauties.\n\nIn this one, free of all draperies, the modelling of the shadows makes\nthe flesh breathe even more voluptuously; that thigh, column of life, is\nliterally quivering.\n\nIn this other, the light and shade of the belly and of the legs produce\na kind of fluctuation where passes all of love; all its intoxication and\nthen its appeasement. The upper part of the body inclines in a gesture\nof reverence; movement how gracious! Where the Gothic and the\nRenaissance find their symbol.\n\nAnd again this one, what instinct bends it into an arc of grace! A\nsingle curve made of all those, of the shoulders, of the legs, of the\nthighs, designs the kneeling Venus.\n\n\nI possess a little masterpiece, which long baffled all the habits of my\neyes and of my mind, all my understanding. I have vowed to it deep\ngratitude, for it has made me think a great deal.\n\nThis figure belongs to the epoch of the Venus of Melos. It gives me the\nsame sensation of modelling, powerful and abundant; it has the same ease\nin the grandeur of its forms, although they are materially of reduced\nproportions. What calm intoxication it breathes and inspires, or,\nrather, what luxury of pleasure!\n\nThe beautiful shadows that caress it have all the same direction, turn\nall in the same sense. With what science, with what wisdom they cause\nthe breasts to jut, and then, slumbering on the wide belly, vigorously\nmodel the thighs!\n\nOne of the arms at the side is drawn back and drowned in delicate light\nand shade. The gesture of the other arm holds the draperies over the\nthighs to gather below the belly fervent shadow.\n\nShadow, desired by the artist, makes for all this figure a first tunic,\nveiling certain shapes and discovering others of them. Looking closely,\none sees that all these varied tones are underscored by a single dark\nline, the line of strength.\n\nIt is the principle of beautiful sculpture as of beautiful architecture.\nThe expression of life, in order to keep the infinite suppleness of\nreality, must never be stopped or fixed. The dark element, essential to\nthe effect, must then be carefully contrived.\n\nOne observes that the antique masterpieces have all been treated in this\nway. That is why they produce the impression of sweet measure and of\ndurability.\n\nBadly proportioned the results are truly blasphemies against nature.\nThey no longer have eloquence, and breed only harshness and meagreness.\nFrom a distance, moreover, measure yields the most powerful results. The\nVenus of Melos in particular owes to this moderation her power of\neffect. There is nothing abrupt. Approaching her step by step, one\nimagines that she has been gradually modelled by the continuous effort\nof the sea.\n\nIs this not what the Ancients wished to say in affirming that Aphrodite\nwas born of the womb of the waters?\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                          TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n 1. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as\n      printed.","title":"Venus. To the Venus of Melos","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":2677}