Here it is where
Maupassant's austerity comes in. He refrains from setting his cleverness
against the eloquence of the facts. There is humour and pathos in these
stories; but such is the greatness of his talent, the refinement of his
artistic conscience, that all his high qualities appear inherent in the
very things of which he speaks, as if they had been altogether
independent of his presentation. Facts, and again facts are his unique
concern. That is why he is not always properly understood. His facts
are so perfectly rendered that, like the actualities of life itself, they
demand from the reader the faculty of observation which is rare, the
power of appreciation which is generally wanting in most of us who are
guided mainly by empty phrases requiring no effort, demanding from us no
qualities except a vague susceptibility to emotion. Nobody has ever
gained the vast applause of a crowd by the simple and clear exposition of
vital facts. Words alone strung upon a convention have fascinated us as
worthless glass beads strung on a thread have charmed at all times our
brothers the unsophisticated savages of the islands.
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