Correspondance de Graffigny, tome xi: 2 juillet 1750-19 juillet 1751, Letters 1570-1722

In Volume 11 of Françoise de Graffigny’s Correspondance with her longtime friend François Devaux, we find Graffigny at the pinnacle of her success as a writer. Her best-selling novel, Lettres d’une Péruvienne, had already brought her international attention in 1747. Now, three years later, she is hailed for her hit play, Cénie, at the Théâtre-Français. Well-wishers stream to her home to congratulate her in person. Graffigny herself is surprised at “la fureur que l’on a pour cette piece” [the furor people have for this play] (31). Reports stream in of weeping theater-goers and wild applause for her play (36, 57). Graffigny herself is moved to tears by her own creation: “Je ne sais, il ne m’a pas paru que la piece fut de moi. J’y ai pleuré comme a celle d’un autre” [I don’t know, it didn’t even seem like my own. I cried as if I was at someone else’s play] (253). The Parisian public embraces the new genre of the “larmoyant” that Cénie embodies, even perceiving it as a potential rival to the prestigious classical tragedy. Graffigny reports: “On pretend que si je donnois souvent de pareilles piece, je detruirois le gout de la tragedie, parce qu’on aime mieux pleurer sur des malheurs qui nous ressemblent que sur les gigantesque sentimens des heros tragique. La tragedie n’a rien a craindre” [People claim that if I offered such plays regularly, I would destroy the public’s taste for tragedy because people prefer to cry over the misfortunes of those who are like them than over the overblown feelings of tragic heroes. Tragedy has nothing to fear.] (16). The enthusiasm is so great that, Graffigny acknowledges: “Il n’y a nul exemple d’un succes comme le mien” [There is no other example of a success like mine] (64).

Great and small alike acclaim the play. Word of Graffigny’s success reaches the King’s chamber (54); Mme de Pompadour praises the play at Fountainbleu warmly, as does the Dauphin with his abundant tears (211), while Louis XV expresses his great admiration (267). King Stanislas, of her native Lorraine, must have Cénie performed at his court. In addition, her friends in the republic of letters–Duclos, Fréron, the abbé de Raynal, Destouches (292), and Prévost (355), among others–extol Cénie. Even the Jansenists “qui ont renoncé a la comedie comme a Satan” [who renounced the theater as they have Satan] and the Jesuits approve of the moral sentiments found in her play (38).

Amongst all the celebration, however, Graffigny remains humble and unpretentious; she is loathe to be taken for an ambitious woman author, which she fears will bring ridicule upon her. Nonetheless, she is touched profoundly by the respect others express for her moral feelings. She writes that what she appreciates most in her moment of glory is “surtout, l’air de respect pour mon coeur que cette piece inspire“ [overall, the air of respect for my heart that this play inspires] (44). Her most gratifying moments of celebrity occur when she is applauded by common folk, as when a female “merchant” wants to meet Graffigny after news of her triumph reaches Brussels. Of this genuine fan, Graffigny writes: “ces louanges neutres-la me font un bien infini” [that disinterested praise does me a world of good] (256). Her letters also reveal that Graffigny received anonymous fan mail (439), and many unsolicited requests from fans, such as the one from a mother who requested two free tickets to her play so that her daughter could “prendre des leçons d’honneur” [learn lessons about honor] there (31).

Naturally, Graffigny tries to parlay the success of her play into financial security for herself, something that has remained elusive her whole life. She calculates her portion of the receipts for each performance (21, 58) and plans on turning a crystal diamond-encrusted box from the empress of the Court of Vienna into cash for her household needs. She is disappointed that no such gifts were forthcoming from the French King or from the Comte de Claremont, to whom she dedicated her play (344). Graffigny is hopeful about her financial prospects but must keep working to secure her future. As publishers bid for her play (23), she also fears a pirated edition of Cénie might be made of a copy Devaux circulated among friends in Lorraine (13).

Not surprisingly, Graffigny’s social life is full of frequent visits from members of her social network, including Caylus, Duclos, Turgot, Nicole Quinault, Le Bret, Fontenelle, Marivaux, La Porte, Palissot, Helvétius, Martel, abbé Turgot, and abbé de Choiseul. While leading an active life, her constant lament is that she has no time to advance her writing projects and write personal letters. Moreover, despite her 55 years, Graffigny continues to attract an array of ardent male suitors. Even so, she jealously guards her independence: during this period: she breaks off her liaison with her younger protegé Le Bret (259, 347); she splits with her roommate and occasional lover, Valéré (267) because he is too controlling (she tells him “je veux vivre sans tiran” [I want to live without a master](283) ); and fights off the unwanted sexual advances of Joseph d’Arbaud, a militry man who, she reports, nearly rapes her (524). Turgot and Pallisot also become enamored admirers. A distinguished member of Parliament, Guillet de Blaru, or “Le Viel Amoureux” [the “Old Lover”], proposes a marriage of convenience; yet she cannot seriously consider such an arrangement despite the encouragement of her friends (413). As dearly as she desires financial security, in the end, Graffigny refuses to sacrifice her autonomy to secure it (419). Her efforts are better spent on a search for a new home according to her taste (115).

Despite the accolades from her friends and public, Graffigny’s ill health keeps her from fully enjoying her accomplishments. She writes: “Helas, je regarde depuis quatre mois le terme ou je suis comme le souverain bonheur; j’y suis et je ne le sens pas” [Alas, I look at what I’ve achieved in the last four months as my supreme happiness; I’ve succeeded, and I don’t feel it] (132). Her “grandes horreurs” [great horror], as she calls her bouts of vapors, convulsions, tremors and black moods, can so debilitate her that socializing with friends or working on new writing projects are impossible (32, 58). No matter, Graffigny pushes on. On her good days, she prepares her expanded edition of Lettres d’une Péruvienne (1752), her new play, Le Brioche, which will ultimately become her unsuccessful La Fille d’Aristide (1758), and her fairy-tale play, Phaza (1753), written for the Court of Vienna. Moreover, she avidly pursues her love of the theater, attending at least 22 shows during the course of the year (xviii).

In short, this latest volume of the Correspondance continues to enlighten modern readers about Griffigny’s daily life, struggles, and triumphs as well as provide an intimate glimpse into the workings of the Republic of Letters in mid eighteenth-century France. Graffigny’s letters are filled with news of the day; we read about such events as the secret of the impending marriage between Helvétius and her niece, Anne-Catherine (92), Voltaire’s trip to Prussia, Le Bret’s publication of the biography of Ninon de Lenclos, the disgrace of Piron, and the death of Mme de Tencin (195). The editors provide an Introduction, a Chronology of events, extensive footnotes (including excerpts from Devaux’s letters), an Index of expressions and nicknames, making this a highly readable correspondence, even if one is unfamiliar with the actors in Graffigny’s life. Eighteenth-century scholars owe a debt of gratitude to the outstanding team of editors and the University of Toronto for providing us with this truly remarkable 15-volume correspondence (when complete) of the celebrated woman of letters, Françoise de Graffigny.