She and He by George Sand (1859)

This is Sand dipping down from her usual bright heights to a level that could be described as the one which might be expected of French literature in the nineteenth century. In other words, it is an anatomy of a passion in Parisian society, so familiar from the works of Daudet, Maupassant, Flaubert and company. It's not boring, none of these writers are, because that territory is eminently human, though of a very particular marque. Sand, though, is one of the few French writers who outruns that cliche soundly in her best works. This is not among them. It is the story of an egotistical artist, Laurent de Fauvel, who becomes obsessed with a slightly mysterious woman artist on the fringes of the bohemian world, Therese Jacques. She has had a chequered past; tricked when very young by an importunate count into an affair, she has borne a dead child. She is subsequently protected by powerful friends and her own dignified wariness and self-criticism. She is determined to live at a slight remove from the hedonistic flow of the artistic life, though is drawn to many of its broader ideas. She and Laurent eventually fall for each other, but, as they do, one of the central tropes of this piece comes into play. This is the change of mood, once an ideal has been grasped. Laurent, a natural hedonist, becomes abusive and dismissive, something Therese cannot endure. They decide that the relationship needs air, and head off to Italy for a long tour. In the background has been a discreet older American, Richard Palmer, who knows Therese's past and is a family friend of long standing. Laurent has been jealous of him intermittently, but is reassured in the end by his good character and honour when they get to know each other. Therese is very happy with their first stop, Genoa, and she and Laurent decide to stay there for some months. Therese is quite productive, but Laurent is blocked. He quickly gets bored, and frustrated, and the misery begins again. Palmer, also travelling, comes to her aid. They decide between them that the relationship must end; Laurent is like a moody, difficult child, and clearly Therese does him no good despite his infatuation. They eventually organise, with his agreement, to send him back to Paris, as he is ill with dissipation and needs to recover. In the process of all this, Palmer has realised that he loves Therese, and through his noble actions and genuine care for Laurent, Therese sees him in a new light. They agree to marry, and after some time elapses, return to Paris. Laurent comes to see Therese, full of understanding that their deepest connection is over, and happy for her in Palmer. But as the marriage approaches, the central trope attacks again. She and Palmer begin to bicker and misunderstand one another, over Laurent, and over other issues. They part in bitterness, thinking they will never see each other again. Therese, depressed but determined to survive on her own, slowly falls under Laurent's spell once again, and his selfish darkness, combined with his obsession, work together to make her life a misery. The seeming change in Laurent that had encouraged her back into his arms has been proved to be a mirage; the story rolls round once again. Her life-energies sapped, with almost a blank dreariness in her heart, she is sinking into a locked abyss of sadness. A knock comes at the door; the young teenage boy tells her he has been sent to her. Shock and joy of an unknown calibre reverberates through her as, in waves, she recognises in him a look which she can't deny, as she has recently undertaken a self-portrait in the mirror. His bone structure and features are hers, to a large extent. It eventuates that her child was not born dead, but whisked away to his father. The count has now died, and his wife has unwillingly relinquished the child, who was her lifeline to her husband's estate. He has been brought to his mother, but by whom? She discovers Palmer outside on the street; he has, in realisation that neither himself nor Laurent is likely to make Therese happy, brought to her the only person he can imagine that could. He is right; she and her son immediately decamp to Germany, leaving Laurent. In a final letter she reassures Laurent that she forgives him his atrocious behaviour, making the point that it seems that his nature is that of the genius, but that there is a price to pay for his endless dissatisfied curiosity - singular love is the sacrifice he must make, and understand in himself, despite his romanticising of it. This is of the general make of its times, but it is made a superior example by the force of Sand's imagination working subtleties through it.