Apocalypse then

The Contrast.

‘The Contrast, 1793…’ , engraving by Rowlandson, following Lord George Murphy (1793, pub. by S.W. Fores, London). Source gallica.bnf.fr / BnF.

The concepts of ‘crisis’ and ‘apocalypse’ have reappeared rather abruptly on our secularized horizons, yet they have never been completely absent: merely, one could argue, in retreat from our prevailing belief in ‘progress’. From meditations on a ‘last man’ in Victorian England to Günther Anders’ writings on the nuclear threat in the 1950s, from eighteenth-century literature on ruins to ISIS today, these themes seem to be inextricably bound up with Modernity and our experience of it.

Crisis, extremes and apocalypse’ is a new research network at the University of Oxford that seeks to shed light on and engage with themes that are more timely than ever. Indeed, these themes have a long history and include events from the French Revolutionary period. After hosting a workshop on ‘Rousseau, Freedom and the French Revolution’ in March, in April the network welcomed Marisa Linton from the University of Kingston to discuss the French Revolution and the ‘politics’ and ‘language’ of virtue in a talk on ‘Robespierre and the politician’s terror’. The Revolutionary era’s diffusion of power and obsession with transparency led all political members to fashion themselves as men of virtue.

Marisa Linton.

Marisa Linton.

As Camille Desmoulins boasted on 14 December 1793 to the Jacobin Club: ‘I was always the first to denounce my own friends; from the moment that I realized that they were conducting themselves badly, I resisted the most dazzling offers and I stifled the voice of friendship that their great talents had inspired in me.’ (Original French: François Aulard, ed., La Société des Jacobins: recueil des documents pour l’histoire de club des Jacobins, 6 vols, Paris, 1889-1897, vol.5, p.559.)

This pursuit of a ‘Republic of virtue’ thus compelled all political members to give constant performances of virtue that threatened to spiral out of control and into violence at any moment: every action was scrutinized and could be interpreted as suspicious, leading to a pervasive fear.

The network will be hosting Marisa Linton once again in late autumn 2017, alongside Olivier Tonneau and Sophie Wahnich, for a workshop on Saint-Just. Visit the network’s homepage or our Facebook page for updates!

– Audrey Borowski

An overview of Marisa Linton’s spring talk

Robespierre cartoon.

‘Robespierre guillotinant le boureau après avoir fait guillot.r. tous les Français… : cy gyt toute la France’, engraving, [Hercy ?], (1794, s.n., Paris[?]). Source gallica.bnf.fr / BnF.

Over 220 years since his death, Maximilien Robespierre continues to generate controversy over his role in the traumatic events of the French Revolutionary period known as the ‘Terror’ (1793-1794). Historians have repeatedly sought in Robespierre’s personality and motivation an explanation of the Terror. Marisa Linton argues that such interpretations can offer only a limited understanding: in order to comprehend both Robespierre and the Terror, we need to place his actions within the wider context of Revolutionary politics in the National Convention, paying close attention to the atmosphere in which politics were conducted. Most importantly, we need to take into account the extent to which political choices during the Terror were influenced by intense emotions on the part of the Conventionnels themselves – above all, the emotion of fear.

Marisa Linton uses ‘the politicians’ terror’, a term she first identified and used in her book Choosing terror: virtue, friendship and authenticity in the French Revolution (OUP, 2013), to throw new light both on Robespierre’s role in the Terror, and on the nature of the Terror itself. The politicians’ terror was the form of terror that Revolutionary leaders meted out to one another. The Revolutionary leaders were themselves ‘subject to terror’. This took two forms. Firstly, Revolutionary leaders were liable to arrest under the laws that enabled terror, as successive laws removed their parliamentary immunity and criminalised the ‘wrong’ political opinions. Secondly, they were subject to the emotion of terror. From the outset of the Revolution there was an expectation that Revolutionary politicians should be able to demonstrate authentic political morality (virtue). During the heightened atmosphere of 1793-1794, and against the backdrop of fears that France faced military defeat, any failure of Revolutionary politicians to demonstrate their political virtue could be seen as an indication that they were secret conspirators, motivated by financial and political corruption, and in league with the royalists and foreign powers to undermine the Revolution from within.

Marisa Linton then gave an extended account of the politicians’ terror, before going on to examine its role in one of the most iconic events of the Revolution – the arrest, trial and execution of Georges Danton and his group, the Dantonists, which took place just months before the fall of Robespierre himself. Listen to the full podcast of Marisa Linton’s talk, and look out for the workshop on Saint-Just.

 

L’Ingénu and Electronic Enlightenment

Title page of the first edition of L’Ingénu.

Title page of the first edition of L’Ingénu.

Electronic Enlightenment (EE), an online collection of edited correspondence from the early modern period, has been an invaluable resource for me as a first-year modern languages student at Durham University. As part of the Reading French Literature module I have been studying my first work by Voltaire, the satirical novella L’Ingénu, and have used EE to explore Voltaire’s correspondence, pursuing my intuitive hunches about this text as well as finding out more about the context in which it was written.

Religion struck me as one of the main topics of discussion in L’Ingénu. In reading letters to and from Voltaire on EE, I began to better appreciate the extent of religious contention in eighteenth-century France. The theory of Creation is referenced in a seemingly poignant moment at the end of chapter 13, where l’Ingénu is touched by the sight of a beautiful woman: ‘il faut convenir que Dieu n’a créé les femmes que pour apprivoiser les hommes.’ However, shortly after this assertion, Voltaire writes, ‘C’est une absurdité, c’est un outrage au genre humain, c’est un attentat contre l’Etre infini et suprême de dire: Il y a une vérité essentielle à l’homme, et Dieu l’a cachée.’ Here the use of irony and of different narrative voices points to the value of turning to Voltaire’s correspondence, as this is an external source which may be used to compare Voltaire’s voice as a narrator with his supposedly real voice when in communication with his peers. Voltaire’s particular form of expression means that the reader can never be quite sure as to where his personal opinion lies. This is confirmed through a study of his correspondence, where we see him playing with different voices.

Letters from figures such as Jean Le Rond d’Alembert piqued my curiosity to read about religious policy in contemporary society. D’Alembert remarks about religious tensions and debate in France, ‘la censure de la Sorbonne contenait douze à quinze pages contre la Tolérance’ (14 August 1767). This source of ‘unofficial’ discourse between the two men corresponding in a personal capacity is useful in gauging a contemporary reaction to the public discourse and politics of the time and the context in which Voltaire wrote.

Image from L'Ingénu.

‘Le Huron tout nu dans la rivière, attendant qu’on l’y vienne baptiser’, in Le Huron, ou l’Ingénu, histoire véritable, fromRomans et Contes de M. de Voltaire, 3 vol. (Bouillon, 1778), vol.2, p.234. Image BnF/Gallica.

Without this letter, I would not have started to explore so keenly this facet of eighteenth-century society. Similar religious contention is revealed in Voltaire’s letter to Etienne Noël Damilaville, as he makes reference to the significance of truth and tolerance in religious debate: ‘Je sais avec quelle fureur le fanatisme s’élève contre la philosophie. Elle a deux filles qu’il voudrait faire périr comme Calas, ce sont la vérité et la tolérance’ (1 March 1765). The case of Jean Calas serves as an illustration of Voltaire’s discussion of religious intolerance. It prompted me to look further into the Calas story, and to learn about the inferior position of Protestants in France at the time.

This has influenced my reading of L’Ingénu, since it supported the idea that the protagonist was regarded as such a social outsider because of the uniformity and strictness with which Catholicism dominated. From reading Voltaire’s letters, we can acknowledge the position of the author. It is clear that he advocated religious freedom, and sought to denounce the Catholic Church, since he poses assertive questions such as: ‘comment obtenir justice? comment s’aller remettre en prison dans sa patrie où la moitié du peuple dit encore que le meurtre de Calas était juste?’ (1 March 1765).

Finally, reading a distinct form of material such as Voltaire’s letters, instead of solely his published writings, has made me consider the impact of the public and the motivation behind authorship. Much more assertive opinions regarding theological inclination are expressed in the evidently intimate, more personal letters than in Voltaire’s stories, and the subtlety of his opinions appears clearer when the richness of the correspondence in EE is taken into account.

– Hannah Hawken

ASECS 2017: the twentieth century meets the eighteenth

This spring, the Voltaire Foundation showcased its publications at the annual meeting of the American Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies. One of those staffing the VF book stand was Evan Casey, a graduate student in History at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Here, Evan recounts her first-time experience of ASECS.

Downtown Minneapolis

Downtown Minneapolis.

As a history student working primarily on twentieth-century America I felt a bit of an interloper at an event for eighteenth-century scholars. However, I found that while I may have been out of my primary research period, I was not out of my methodical or theoretical comfort zone. I enjoyed participating in the graduate and women’s caucus luncheons, as well as the Voltaire Foundation’s cocktail and dessert party (which drew over 80 ASECS attendees to the suite of retiring executive director Byron Wells), the Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment editorial board’s working dinner, and a pub outing on the final night of the meeting, hosted by the University of Minnesota’s Center for Early Modern History.

Vf book stand, with Kelsey Rubin-Detlev and Evan Casey.

Vf book stand, with Kelsey Rubin-Detlev and Evan Casey.

I spent most of the conference at the Voltaire Foundation book stand, which provided an ideal spot from which to encounter the dix-huitiémistes in their native habitat. All three days brought consistent traffic between and during conference sessions. Several of the authors stopped by throughout the conference; most were pleased to see the display and enthusiastically took promotional order forms for their texts. Shoppers seemed similarly impressed by the exhibit of recent releases from Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment and the Œuvres complètes de Voltaire. There was repeated enthusiasm for some of the newer books, including the monographs John Millar and the Scottish Enlightenment: family life and world history by Nicholas B. Miller, and William Beckford: the elusive Orientalist by Laurent Châtel, as well as Casanova: Enlightenment philosopher edited by Ivo Cerman, Susan Reynolds, and Diego Lucci. Great interest was also expressed in the final volume of the Correspondance de Madame de Graffigny, which completes the 15-vol. edition of all of Françoise de Graffigny’s letters.

Ecrasez l’infâme tote bag.

Ecrasez l’infâme tote bag.

Of course the most popular items at the stand were the complimentary ‘Ecrasez l’infâme’ canvas tote bags. These tote bags made a clear statement of fashion – so much so that our supply ran out early, though their appeal brought ASECS attendees to the stand throughout the weekend. The tote bags, emblazoned with the eponymous philosopher’s iconic motto, also sported the URL for the Voltaire Foundation website.

The website also provided a ready point of reference to another question that was posed frequently during the conference – how does one submit an inquiry or formal proposal to the Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment team? The answer, of course, is through the series homepage, which includes an overview of its prestigious history, its presence in university libraries worldwide, information for prospective authors, and submission process guidelines. Many prospective authors who visited our table at ASECS expressed enthusiasm for this.

OSE editorial board dinner.

OSE editorial board dinner.

Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment itself (including its former incarnation as Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century/ SVEC) also featured on the program. Members and associates of the VF – Director Nicholas Cronk, Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment General Editor Gregory Brown, editorial board members Geoffrey Turnovsky, Karen Stolley and Melissa Hyde, as well as Oxford junior research fellow Kelsey Rubin-Detlev – participated in a roundtable entitled ‘The Enlightenment since Besterman: sixty years of Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century’, which highlighted important works from the SVEC backlist.

Naturally, I would encourage those already thinking forward to the 2018 meeting in Orlando to plan time to visit the Vf exhibit, and to check in on all the latest publications and forthcoming news.

– Evan Casey

Les Œuvres complètes de Voltaire, the first 25 years – the pioneers

OCV – ‘one of the most significant and thoughtful scholarly ventures of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries’ – John Renwick

The idea of publishing the Œuvres complètes de Voltaire is 50 this month. This has made us reflect on the many people who have been – and still are – working to realise this ambitious project in 2019. The current Vf in-house team have all been around at least ten years; however, only one of us was part of the first twenty-five years, so he was asked to write a blog!

Theodore Besterman

Theodore Besterman.

Theodore Deodatus Nathaniel Besterman, in the course of a life of extraordinary intellectual activity, became a passionate voltairien, at one time living in Voltaire’s house, Les Délices, and sleeping in the philosopher’s own bedroom. Whether Besterman’s earlier experience as research officer for the London Society for Psychical Research enabled any special insights through this location is not recorded, but he used his time in Geneva to produce an edition of Voltaire’s correspondence (107 volumes) and Notebooks, as well as starting the series Studies on Voltaire and the eighteenth century (now Oxford University Studies in the Enlightenment). After moving back to England he proposed, at the second congress of the International Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies at St Andrews in 1967 (the Society itself being in part Besterman’s creation), to produce a critical edition of the complete works of Voltaire, an offer enthusiastically received by Jean Ehrard, René Pomeau, Owen Taylor, Samuel Taylor and Jeroom Vercruysse. The Œuvres complètes de Voltaire were born and an international committee formed to direct the edition, including, as well as the above, William Barber (later general editor), Roland Mortier and Robert Niklaus. The Voltaire Foundation was based at Besterman’s house at Thorpe Mandeville in Oxfordshire.

Besterman immediately started a revised edition of the correspondence, to be called the ‘Definitive edition’ (1968-1977), and of the Notebooks, published in 1968. The following year saw the appearance of La Philosophie de l’histoire, edited by J. H. Brumfitt, and in this year too Besterman published his biography of Voltaire, which was to see two revised editions over the following six years, and translations into Italian and German in 1971.

Les Délices

The Maison Les Délices in its garden in Geneva (Wikimedia commons).

1970 saw Owen Taylor’s edition of La Henriade, a revision of his edition published in 1965 in vols 38-40 of Studies on Voltaire and the eighteenth century, this series also being a creation of Besterman while in Geneva. (Owen’s bequest still supports a travel grant established to support young researchers). In the same year Jeroom Vercruysse’s edition of La Pucelle appeared.

Research and publication progressed steadily, helped from 1974 by Samuel Taylor’s detailed recension of Voltaire’s emendations to his own text in the copy of the ‘encadrée’ edition in Voltaire’s own library in Leningrad (SVEC 124). In this year William Barber became general editor. David Williams completed his three-volume edition of the Commentaires sur Corneille and he continues to contribute to the series, most recently in the Nouveaux Mélanges (2017).

1976 brought great changes as Theodore Besterman died and the Voltaire Foundation was bequeathed to the University of Oxford. A small office was set up in Oxford in 1977, consisting of just two people, to be joined the following year by the present writer, whose initial responsibilities were the continuing publication of Ralph Leigh’s edition of Rousseau’s correspondence, which Besterman had also taken on, and the Studies on Voltaire and the eighteenth century series, now with Haydn Mason as general editor.

Publication of the complete works continued, with notably, in 1980, Voltaire’s most famous work, Candide, edited by René Pomeau, who had previously published his study La Religion de Voltaire and who went on to lead the team that wrote Voltaire en son temps, published by the Voltaire Foundation, a rich source for Voltaire studies. The number of international collaborators increased and Christiane Mervaud and Haydn Mason joined the committee. In 1984 La Défense de mon oncle and A Warburton, edited by José-Michel Moureaux, appeared and his work on Lettres sur les miracles will be published in 2018 in collaboration with Olivier Ferret.

Newton

Sir Isaac Newton by Sir Godfrey Kneller, Bt. (Wikimedia commons).

In 1986 Le Droit du seigneur, edited by W. D. Howarth, Haydn Mason’s predecessor at Bristol University, was published and his edition of Le Dépositaire was revised by Russell Goulbourne and published in 2013. In 1987 John Renwick’s edition of André Destouches à Siam appeared in volume 62, and he continues to contribute widely to the series. Roland Mortier, whose Le Philosophe ignorant and L’Examen important de milord Bolingbroke also appeared in volume 62, is thanked for his work on the Fragment d’une lettre du lord Bolingbroke by Jean Dagen, whose edition appears in a volume to be published in 2017; and in 1988 Sylvain Menant joined the committee – his most recent contribution was published in 2014 in Contes de Guillaume Vadé.

Our 25-year survey closes with the publication of Voltaire’s magnum opus of scientific popularisation, the Eléments de la philosophie de Newton, edited by William Barber and Robert L. Walters. William’s editorship ended the following year.

This period saw the idea of a rare individual, who might, some thought, have almost believed himself to be a reincarnation of Voltaire, grow into reality through the collaboration of a large number of scholars in several countries and continents who laid a solid foundation for the next twenty-five years plus. To be continued…

– Martin Smith
Oxford, July 2017

Launching and celebrating the Correspondance du président de Brosses et de l’abbé marquis Niccolini

Round table and Italian launch

Sala Azurra of the Scuola Normale Superiore in Piazza dei Cavalieri. From left to right: Professor Vincenzo Ferrone (University of Turin), Professor Andrea Giardina (SNS) in the chair, and Professor Marcello Verga (University of Florence).

The Italian launch of the Correspondance du président de Brosses et de l’abbé marquis Niccolini, edited by myself and Mireille Gille, took the form of a one-day round table on 12 April in the beautiful Sala Azzura of the Scuola Normale Superiore in Pisa. The late Renaissance surroundings of Vasari’s building in the Piazza dei Cavalieri lent themselves perfectly to the evocation of two aristocatic eighteenth-century scholars whose wide-ranging culture was in itself a continuation of that very spirit of the Renaissance.

The incontro was organized by Professor Andrea Giardina, who holds the chair of Roman History and is Director of the Laboratory of History, Archaeology, Epigraphy and Tradition of Antiquity. He is also the current President of the International Committee of Historical Sciences. After paying a handsome tribute to us for our work, he invited Professor Vincenzo Ferrone of the University of Turin, and Professor Marcello Verga of the University of Florence and also director of the Istituto di Storia dell’Europa Mediterranea du Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche (CNR) in Rome, to open the discussion.

Professor Vincenzo Ferrone dwelled largely on the influence of Newton on Antonio Niccolini’s thinking, and he suggested that the abate may have been a freemason. He regretted the absence of references to the publication of the Encyclopédie in his correspondence with De Brosses. Professor Marcello Verga then picked up the references in the correspondence to Niccolini’s belief that his beloved Tuscany was in decline, an idea that also lay at the heart of the debates of Muratori and Tiraboschi. Moreover, if Niccolini said little about the politics of Tuscany, his views of European events are shown to have been particularly striking. Niccolini’s admiration for Montesquieu, whom he saw as serious critic of despotism, led Professor Verga to speak of the political role of the Florentine academies, such as the Crusca, where the scholarship of the elite also served to rein back despotism. He drew attention to Niccolini’s final belief that the Church was, indeed, the strongest bulwark against despotism.

Villa at Camugliano (from left to right): Marchese Lorenzo Niccolini, Dr Mireille Gille, and Professor John Rogister, taken the day before, 11 April.

In response to these stimulating points of discussion, Mireille Gille began by stressing the fortunate circumstances that had made possible the publication of both sides of the correspondence, while lamenting the loss of several letters which deprived us of any knowledge of Niccolini’s reaction to the news given to him by De Brosses of the publication of the Encyclopédie. She also described the rules adopted in the presentation of the texts that had enabled the correspondence to fully reflect the grammatical and spelling quirks of the two writers, one of whom was not writing in his native language.

I then took up some of the points raised by the speakers. I questioned whether Niccolini was a freemason, saying that there was no formal evidence for the claim and that what got him into trouble was his initial hostility to the exclusion of the natural heir of the Medicis from the succession to the grand-ducal throne by the major European powers. Indeed I emphasised Niccolini’s ‘soft’ Jansenism, an approach similar to that of his friend Benedict XIV, and his secret role as a diplomat. Although an admirer of Newton, Niccolini sided with the view that ‘cento Newton non farebbero un Montesquieu’. After questions from a large audience of scholars, Professor Giardina thanked the participants and concluded the session by inviting those present to a reception.

A congenial lunch hosted by Professor Giardina for the participants later took place at an osteria. Marchese and Marchesa Niccolini, who had made possible the publication of one half of the correspondence with documents from their family archives, were present at the session. The previous day Mireille Gille and I had been to their Medicean villa at Camugliano to present them with a copy of the volume, and we were shown the splendid estate. After a delightful lunch, we were taken on a tour of the villa from which Antonio Niccolini had written at least one of his letters to President de Brosses. Being in the very place that the abbé had put pen to paper was a very fitting start to the launch.

Celebrating the Correspondance with the De Brosses family

The lunch: Alec de Brosses introducing Count Dorick de Brosses (left), John Rogister is on the right.

When I mentioned to Alec de Brosses that there was to be a launch in Pisa of his ancestor’s epistolary exchanges with Niccolini, he was keen that there should also be one in France. For some years now, he had hosted occasional gatherings of the De Brosses family at his château d’Ailly near Parigny (Loire). As this year also marked the 240th anniversary of the death of président de Brosses in May 1777, it seemed appropriate to hold both events at the same time.

The date was fixed for 3 June, near enough to the anniversary, and there would be a buffet lunch at which I would give a presentation of the volume. After travelling down from Paris the day before, Alec met me for the short journey in bright sunshine to the beautiful eighteenth-century château d’Ailly, where I was to stay. On either side of my bed were large prints of the comte de Saint-Florentin and cardinal de Tencin, not men who had been close to the président’s heart, one suspects. The next day, about sixty members of the De Brosses clan arrived in family groups bearing exquisitely prepared food for the lunch, and Count Dorick de Brosses, the owner of the président’s papers, came over from Saint-Trys with bottles of his chateau’s wine.

A group photograph of the De Brosses family on the terrace of the chateau after the lunch, including: (in front, on the right) John Rogister; (on the step behind him) Dorick and Alec de Brosses; (top left at the back) Count de Brosses, head of the family.

There was a convivial partie de campagne atmosphere to the reunion, and sadly I was the only one dressed in city clothes, having just attended a very formal event at the Mazarine two days previously. This discrepancy did not seem to matter as the weather changed and rain forced us all to go indoors for the lunch. I gave my short speech, and concluded by presenting a copy of the Correspondance to Dorick de Brosses, who seemed to me to bear a striking resemblance to portraits of his ancestor. I could not help reflecting that the président had two wives and several daughters before he finally produced the son and heir from whom all present-day members of the family are descended.

After lunch the sun came out again and group photographs were taken on the terrace of the chateau facing the lake. During the late afternoon most of those present departed, and those staying at Ailly had a final dinner there. The next day Alec drove me to Roanne to catch the train to Lyon, where I boarded a very crowded Whit-Sunday TGV back to Paris full of pleasant memories of the hospitality and wit of a remarkable family.

– John Rogister

Catherine II et Friedrich Melchior Grimm : les clés d’une correspondance cryptique

Catherine II, par Fiodor Rokotov, 1763.

Catherine II, par Fiodor Rokotov, 1763.

On comprendrait difficilement l’intense relation d’échanges et de transferts culturels qui s’est établie entre l’Europe occidentale et la Russie dans le dernier tiers du XVIIIe siècle sans étudier la correspondance, entre 1764 et 1796, de Catherine II, Impératrice de Toutes les Russies, et de son principal agent d’influence, Friedrich Melchior Grimm, natif de Ratisbonne établi à Paris qui fut longtemps le directeur de la Correspondance littéraire destinée aux têtes couronnées du continent. Cette correspondance ne comporte pas moins de « 430 lettres », ce chiffre étant cependant « donné à titre approximatif parce que les limites entre les lettres ne sont pas toujours très nettes », les épistoliers pouvant inclure dans une énorme « pancarte » plusieurs lettres écrites à des dates successives. Elle n’était jusqu’alors connue que par les éditions données par Iakov Karlovitch Grot dans le Recueil de la Société impériale russe d’histoire en 1878 (lettres de Catherine II à Grimm, t. 23) et 1885 (lettres de Grimm à Catherine II, t. 44). Quelque utiles qu’aient pu être ces éditions à des générations de chercheurs, force est de reconnaître qu’elles ont fait leur temps. Outre le fait que la séparation des correspondance active et passive en deux volumes rendait difficile de suivre le fil de l’échange, Grot ignorait plusieurs manuscrits, commit certaines erreurs et retrancha des lettres certains passages qu’il jugeait malséants.

Aussi attendait-on avec impatience l’édition de cette correspondance par Sergueï Karp, directeur de recherche à l’Institut d’histoire universelle de l’Académie des sciences de Russie, qui travaille depuis longtemps sur Voltaire, Diderot, Grimm et leurs relations avec la Russie. Il a fait paraître en juillet 2016 le premier volume d’une édition qui devrait en comporter au moins cinq autres[1]. Il couvre les années 1763-1778 qui virent Grimm passer du statut de simple commissionnaire à celui de principal agent de l’Impératrice. Faute de disposer de ce volume au format papier, on pourra le consulter au format électronique sur le site de l’éditeur moscovite.

Force est d’évoquer la qualité, la richesse et l’importance de l’échange épistolaire. Plus qu’un agent de premier plan, Catherine II a trouvé en Grimm un ami et un confident avec lequel elle pouvait plaisanter en toute liberté. Ne lui a-t-elle pas écrit : « avec vous je jase mais n’écris jamais […] je prefere de m’amusér et de laisser aller ma main », ou, mieux encore, « je n’ai jamais écrit à personne comme vous»? Si cette correspondance est en ce sens familière ou « privée », elle est aussi « artistique » et « politique » pour reprendre le titre de l’édition. Catherine II n’était pas une simple collectionneuse mais une collectionneuse de collections; c’est à Grimm qu’elle confia le soin d’acquérir les bibliothèques de Diderot, de Galiani et de Voltaire, les loges du Vatican, pour ne donner que ces quelques exemples de cette frénésie d’acquisitions, de sorte qu’il n’est pas exagéré d’écrire que la Russie est redevable à l’Impératrice de la richesse de certaines de ses plus grandes institutions culturelles, comme la Bibliothèque nationale de Russie et le Musée de l’Ermitage.

Friedrich Melchior Grimm, gravure de Lecerf, dessin de Carmontelle, 1769.

Friedrich Melchior Grimm, gravure de Lecerf, dessin de Carmontelle, 1769.

On soulignera tout particulièrement la qualité des notes éditoriales de S. Karp. Elles sont requises pour éclairer la lecture de ces lettres qui, « dans la plupart des cas[,] sont strictement personnelles et volontairement obscures : c’est ainsi que Catherine a voulu les protéger contre la curiosité des tierces personnes ». S’adressant en 1801 à l’empereur Alexandre Ier, petit-fils de Catherine II, peu après son avènement, Grimm ne constatait-il pas « qu’il s’était établi entre l’immortelle et son pauvre correspondant, une espèce de dictionnaire qui a besoin d’une clef pour ne pas rester énigmatique »? Telle est cette clé que S. Karp offre au lecteur en faisant la lumière sur ce qui était destiné à rester obscur.

On s’attachera à l’« Introduction » pour au moins deux raisons : la première, due à l’éditeur général, consiste dans une étude précise de l’évolution du rôle joué par Grimm qui a su se rendre indispensable à l’Impératrice ; la seconde, œuvre de G. Dulac et de C. Scharf, étudie avec finesse les particularités de son maniement du français et de l’allemand. Surprenant est, en ce qui concerne la première de ces langues, le paradoxe d’une souveraine qui recourt tout à la fois à des néologismes éloquents et à des tournures archaïsantes, que l’Impératrice a parfois héritées de son institutrice huguenote, Mme Cardel, parfois du théâtre de la Foire et parfois aussi de la plume de Voltaire, qu’elle considérait comme son « maître » dans le domaine des belles-lettres. On sait en revanche qu’elle ne possédait que des rudiments d’anglais et qu’elle maîtrisait mal le russe.

S. Karp décrit admirablement l’arrière-plan de cette Correspondance. Suite au coup d’État par lequel son mari Pierre III fut renversé en 1762, Catherine II éprouva le besoin de justifier idéologiquement son règne tant au plan intérieur que sur la scène internationale, en sollicitant la plume des philosophes français qui façonnaient l’opinion publique. Grimm fut incontestablement le principal intermédiaire entre l’Impératrice et la scène philosophique occidentale. Mais contre l’opinion qui consiste à croire que les philosophes furent naïvement manipulés par une souveraine machiavélique, S. Karp considère fort justement, d’une part, que Catherine II a bien été la fille des Lumières, mettant en œuvre de nombreuses réformes qui ont permis une modernisation sans précédent de la Russie, et que, si instrumentalisation il y a eu, elle fut réciproque, les philosophes jouissant de l’actif soutien de cette puissante cour et ayant « utilisé l’exemple russe comme argument rhétorique pour critiquer les pratiques de la monarchie française » dont ils dénonçaient le despotisme.

Frappant est le contraste de la Correspondance de Catherine II avec Voltaire, d’une part, et Grimm, d’autre part. Alors que la première est soigneusement relue et revue, empreinte de formalisme, la seconde est spontanée, souvent écrite à la diable et emplie de facéties. S. Karp montre clairement que leur liberté de ton « abolissait fictivement la distance sociale » qui les séparait. Il fait également justice de l’interprétation, notamment accréditée par Grot, consistant à dénoncer les « flatteries » obséquieuses dont les lettres de Grimm seraient farcies. Il remarque fort justement que « l’humour respectueux » des lettres de Grimm ne s’apparente pas à de la flatterie et que les « formes outrées de la politesse restaient traditionnelles au XVIIIe siècle, comme une composante obligatoire du dialogue entre un souveraine et un simple mortel » (à preuve, les lettres de Diderot ou de Voltaire). Catherine II ne se laissait pas prendre à ces éloges obligés, elle qui se moquait d’elle-même et de ses obligations de souveraine. Ce qui prime dans les lettres de Grimm, c’est leur humour : « ses plaisanteries et ses sarcasmes contribuaient largement à créer cette atmosphère de complicité et de gaieté dans laquelle purent se développer leurs relations ».

Tout spécialiste du siècle des Lumières en général, et de Voltaire en particulier, devra désormais se référer à l’édition des lettres de l’Impératrice et de Grimm qu’on ne nommera désormais plus que « l’édition Karp » et dont on attend avec impatience l’achèvement tant elle contribue à renouveler notre compréhension du dernier tiers du XVIIIe siècle.

– Christophe Paillard

[1] Catherine II de Russie. Friedrich Melchior Grimm. Une correspondance privée, artistique et politique au siècle des Lumières. Tome I. 1764-1778, édition critique par Sergueï Karp, avec la collaboration de Georges Dulac, Christoph Frank, Sergueï Iskioul, Gérard Kahn, Ulla Kölving, Nadezda Plavinskaia, Vladislav Rjéoutski et Claus Scharf, Centre international d’étude du XVIIIe siècle, Ferney-Voltaire, et Monuments de la pensée historique, Moscou, 2016, lxxxiv p., 341 p. et 3 p. non paginées, 26 illustrations.

Un voyage fantastique dans les archives de la Société Royale de Médecine

‘…Trois figures allégoriques qui représentent le zèle du bien public, l’observation et l’étude, contemplent le portrait de sa Majesté et lui rendent hommage comme au Fondateur et au Protecteur de la Société royale de médecine’ dans Histoire de la Société royale de médecine…, t.1 (Paris, 1779), frontispice.
BIU Santé (Paris)

‘Qui voudrait faire un voyage fantastique, celui-ci ira plonger dans les archives anciennes de la Société Royale de Médecine.’[1] Jean-Pierre Peter formulait ce conseil il y a quarante-cinq ans dans Medecins, climat et épidimies à la fin du XVIIIe siecle. Il avait participé à l’étude quantitative par un groupe d’historiens de l’enquête météorologique et nosologique laissée inachevée par ‘la dernière-née des grandes académies parisiennes’.[2]

Marquée par le renouveau de l’hippocratisme, l’enquête devait permettre d’expliquer les épisodes épidémiques à partir de l’observation des phénomènes climatiques. Elle mobilisait le réseau des correspondants de la Société à l’échelle du royaume dont elle rassemblait les observations. Ce dossier a fait l’objet d’un récent projet de numérisation accessible en ligne.

Ce chantier n’est que l’un aspect des travaux de la SRM, compagnie à l’identité incertaine et aux activités foisonnantes. Les soubresauts institutionnels et les relations avec l’Etat de la Société sont bien connus, ainsi que son Secrétaire perpétuel, Félix Vicq d’Azyr. Incarnation d’une médecine éclairée et renouvelée, la SRM est aussi étroitement liée aux dynamiques de la Cour et à l’essor du commerce et de la consommation pharmaceutiques. Outre l’enquête météorologique et nosologique, ses activités concernent les eaux minérales et les remèdes secrets et leur régulation. Les lettres reçues des correspondants provinciaux et étrangers conservées dans les archives concernent l’ensemble des enjeux médicaux des dernières décennies du XVIIIe siècle dans le domaine des pathologies, de la thérapeutique, de la police médicale ou de la réorganisation des professions de santé.

Au carrefour des recherches sur les liens entre atmosphère et santé et prérogatives dans la règlementation des remèdes, la SRM s’est appropriée l’évaluation d’un moyen de guérir spectaculaire et en vogue durant les années 1770: l’électricité.

Pour documenter les pratiques et les parcours médicaux des malades analysés dans L’Electricité médicale dans la France des Lumières, j’ai pu profiter de la richesse des observations des médecins correspondants de la SRM. Dans les archives des essais orchestrés par Pierre Mauduyt de la Varenne s’accumulent les ‘dossiers médicaux’ de malades dont l’histoire de la maladie et du traitement est soigneusement compilée. Ces histoires mettent en lumière la diversité des recours thérapeutiques mobilisés pour les malades du ‘peuple de Paris’ et les négociations qu’ils mènent avec les personnes qui les soignent en réclamant ou refusant des remèdes ou des traitements particuliers. Les obstacles physiques, linguistiques ou sociaux à la rencontre de soin apparaissent nombreux.

Abbé Joseph Sans, Guérison de la paralysie par l’électricité (Paris, Cailleau), 1778, pl.4. Wellcome Library, Londres.

La cohabitation des malades dans le cadre du traitement au domicile du médecin est parfois problématique. C’est le cas notamment lors du traitement d’un compagnon maçon nommé Le Noir pour lequel Mauduyt note:

‘Il est venu saou où au moins ivre 2 a 3 fois: il étoit horriblement mal propre et puant des pieds; les autres malades s’en étoient plaint, ils m’avoient assuré qu’ils avoient vu des pous courir sur lui et Schmal qu’il en avoit gagné. je le pris en particulier, pour lui parler sur tous ces objets. je le fis avec beaucoup de ménagement: il me répondit fort insolement; revint trois ou quatre jours après avec sa femme et tous deux me dirent d’un air insolent qu’ils venoient chercher ses pantoufles et que le roi sauroit comment il avoit été traité chez moi; je lui répondit de prendre ses pantoufles et de se retirer’ (SRM 118, dr. 26)

Des enjeux institutionnels et politiques aux vicissitudes des interactions thérapeutiques, les archives de la Société Royale de Médecine fournissent une documentation riche à qui s’intéresse à la société de la fin de l’Ancien régime. Ces ressources sont bien connues et mobilisées par les historiens mais on pourrait souhaiter une réévaluation globale du fonctionnement de l’institution en articulant les échelles de ses activités et la diversité de ses acteurs. Ce que les moyens informatiques rendaient utopique il y a un demi-siècle est désormais réalisable.

– François Zanetti

[1] On peut trouver un inventaire en ligne des archives de l’Académie nationale de médecine.

[2] Voir l’article de Daniel Roche, ‘Talents, raison et sacrifice. L’image du médecin des Lumières d’après les Eloges de la Société royale de médecine (1776-1789)’, dans Annales, Economies, Sociétés, Civilisations (1977), 32:5, p.866-886.