His determinism, barren of praise, blame and
consolation, has all the merit of his conscientious art. The worth of
every conviction consists precisely in the steadfastness with which it is
held.
Except for his philosophy, which in the case of so consummate an artist
does not matter (unless to the solemn and naive mind), Maupassant of all
writers of fiction demands least forgiveness from his readers. He does
not require forgiveness because he is never dull.
The interest of a reader in a work of imagination is either ethical or
that of simple curiosity. Both are perfectly legitimate, since there is
both a moral and an excitement to be found in a faithful rendering of
life. And in Maupassant's work there is the interest of curiosity and
the moral of a point of view consistently preserved and never obtruded
for the end of personal gratification. The spectacle of this immense
talent served by exceptional faculties and triumphing over the most
thankless subjects by an unswerving singleness of purpose is in itself an
admirable lesson in the power of artistic honesty, one may say of
artistic virtue. The inherent greatness of the man consists in this,
that he will let none of the fascinations that beset a writer working in
loneliness turn him away from the straight path, from the vouchsafed
vision of excellence.
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