Is he Living Or Is he Dead? – Mark Twain
Story
Background: The story has a connection with the famous French painter Jean
Francois Millet.
Millet was the first child
of Jean-Louis-Nicolas and Aimée-Henriette-Adélaïde Henry Millet, members of the
farming community in the village of Gruchy, in Gréville-Hague, Normandy, close to the coast.
Most of the details about
Millet in the story are fictional.
The Angelus, 1859, oil on canvas by French artist Jean-François Millet (1814–1875). Courtesy Musée d'Orsay. The painting depicts two peasants working in a potato field and pausing to recite the Angelus, a Catholic prayer said in early morning, at noon, and in the evening. In the distance a church bell rings the end of the workday.
History of Angelus
The painting triggered a
rush of patriotic fervor when the Louvre tried to buy it in 1889, and was
vandalized by a madman in 1932.
With reference to the Musée d'Orsay, the provenance of the work is as follows;
although some events are missing, such as the Brussels show in 1874:
· 1860 – owned by Belgian landscape painter Victor de Papeleu who bought it for 1,000 francs;
·
1860 –
owned by Alfred Stevens, who paid 2,500 fr.;
·
1860 –
owned by Jules Van Praët, Brussels;
· 1864 – Paul Tesse obtained it by exchanging it for La Grande bergère (Shepherdess and flock) by Millet;
·
1865 –
owned by Emile Gavet, Paris;
·
By
1881, collection John Waterloo Wilson, avenue Hoche, Paris; his sale at hôtel Drouot, 16 March 1881;
·
16
March 1881, Eugène Secrétan, a French art collector
and copper industrialist who donated copper for the Statue of Liberty, bidding against M. Dofœr, for 168,000 fr.,
with fees;
·
Secrétan
sale (63), 1 July 1889, galerie Sedelmeyer, Paris – bidding war between
the Louvre (Antonin Proust) and the American Art
Association;
James F. Sutton drives the sale price to 553,000 francs;
·
1889–1890,
collection American Art Association, New York; sale 1890 to the Paris collector
and philanthropist, Hippolyte François Alfred Chauchard (1821–1909), for
750,000 fr.;
·
1890–1909,
collection Alfred
Chauchard;
·
1909:
Chauchard bequest of 1906 to the French State; formally accepted 15 January
1910 into the permanent collection of the musée du Louvre, Paris;
·
1986 –
transferred to the permanent collection of musée d'Orsay, Paris.
# Let us first read the story ‘The Daisy’ by Hans Christian Andersen
(1838)
The little
daisy was as happy as if the day had been a great holiday, but it was only
Monday. All the children were at school, and while they were sitting on the
forms and learning their lessons, it sat on its thin green stalk and learnt
from the sun and from its surroundings how kind God is, and it rejoiced that
the song of the little lark expressed so sweetly and distinctly its own
feelings. With a sort of reverence the daisy looked up to the bird that could
fly and sing, but it did not feel envious. “I can see and hear,” it thought;
“the sun shines upon me, and the forest kisses me. How rich I am!”
In the
garden close by grew many large and magnificent flowers, and, strange to say,
the less fragrance they had the haughtier and prouder they were. The peonies
puffed themselves up in order to be larger than the roses, but size is not
everything! The tulips had the finest colours, and they knew it well, too, for
they were standing bolt upright like candles, that one might see them the
better. In their pride they did not see the little daisy, which looked over to
them and thought, “How rich and beautiful they are! I am sure the pretty bird
will fly down and call upon them. Thank God, that I stand so near and can at
least see all the splendour.” And while the daisy was still thinking, the lark
came flying down, crying “Tweet,” but not to the peonies and tulips—no, into
the grass to the poor daisy. Its joy was so great that it did not know what to
think. The little bird hopped round it and sang, “How beautifully soft the
grass is, and what a lovely little flower with its golden heart and silver
dress is growing here.” The yellow centre in the daisy did indeed look like
gold, while the little petals shone as brightly as silver.
How happy
the daisy was! No one has the least idea. The bird kissed it with its beak,
sang to it, and then rose again up to the blue sky. It was certainly more than
a quarter of an hour before the daisy recovered its senses. Half ashamed, yet
glad at heart, it looked over to the other flowers in the garden; surely they
had witnessed its pleasure and the honour that had been done to it; they
understood its joy. But the tulips stood more stiffly than ever, their faces
were pointed and red, because they were vexed. The peonies were sulky; it was
well that they could not speak, otherwise they would have given the daisy a
good lecture. The little flower could very well see that they were ill at ease,
and pitied them sincerely.
Shortly
after this a girl came into the garden, with a large sharp knife. She went to
the tulips and began cutting them off, one after another. “Ugh!” sighed the
daisy, “that is terrible; now they are done for.”
The girl
carried the tulips away. The daisy was glad that it was outside, and only a
small flower—it felt very grateful. At sunset it folded its petals, and fell
asleep, and dreamt all night of the sun and the little bird.
On the
following morning, when the flower once more stretched forth its tender petals,
like little arms, towards the air and light, the daisy recognised the bird’s
voice, but what it sang sounded so sad. Indeed the poor bird had good reason to
be sad, for it had been caught and put into a cage close by the open window. It
sang of the happy days when it could merrily fly about, of fresh green corn in
the fields, and of the time when it could soar almost up to the clouds. The
poor lark was most unhappy as a prisoner in a cage. The little daisy would have
liked so much to help it, but what could be done? Indeed, that was very
difficult for such a small flower to find out. It entirely forgot how beautiful
everything around it was, how warmly the sun was shining, and how splendidly
white its own petals were. It could only think of the poor captive bird, for
which it could do nothing. Then two little boys came out of the garden; one of
them had a large sharp knife, like that with which the girl had cut the tulips.
They came straight towards the little daisy, which could not understand what
they wanted.
“Here is a
fine piece of turf for the lark,” said one of the boys, and began to cut out a
square round the daisy, so that it remained in the centre of the grass.
“Pluck the
flower off” said the other boy, and the daisy trembled for fear, for to be
pulled off meant death to it; and it wished so much to live, as it was to go
with the square of turf into the poor captive lark’s cage.
“No let it
stay,” said the other boy, “it looks so pretty.”
And so it
stayed, and was brought into the lark’s cage. The poor bird was lamenting its
lost liberty, and beating its wings against the wires; and the little daisy
could not speak or utter a consoling word, much as it would have liked to do
so. So the forenoon passed.
“I have no
water,” said the captive lark, “they have all gone out, and forgotten to give
me anything to drink. My throat is dry and burning. I feel as if I had fire and
ice within me, and the air is so oppressive. Alas! I must die, and part with
the warm sunshine, the fresh green meadows, and all the beauty that God has
created.” And it thrust its beak into the piece of grass, to refresh itself a
little. Then it noticed the little daisy, and nodded to it, and kissed it with
its beak and said: “You must also fade in here, poor little flower. You and the
piece of grass are all they have given me in exchange for the whole world,
which I enjoyed outside. Each little blade of grass shall be a green tree for
me, each of your white petals a fragrant flower. Alas! you only remind me of
what I have lost.”
“I wish I
could console the poor lark,” thought the daisy. It could not move one of its
leaves, but the fragrance of its delicate petals streamed forth, and was much
stronger than such flowers usually have: the bird noticed it, although it was
dying with thirst, and in its pain tore up the green blades of grass, but did
not touch the flower.
The evening came, and nobody appeared to bring the poor bird a drop of water; it opened its beautiful wings, and fluttered about in its anguish; a faint and mournful “Tweet, tweet,” was all it could utter, then it bent its little head towards the flower, and its heart broke for want and longing. The flower could not, as on the previous evening, fold up its petals and sleep; it dropped sorrowfully. The boys only came the next morning; when they saw the dead bird, they began to cry bitterly, dug a nice grave for it, and adorned it with flowers. The bird’s body was placed in a pretty red box; they wished to bury it with royal honours. While it was alive and sang they forgot it, and let it suffer want in the cage; now, they cried over it and covered it with flowers. The piece of turf, with the little daisy in it, was thrown out on the dusty highway. Nobody thought of the flower which had felt so much for the bird and had so greatly desired to comfort it.
Genre: Classic Realistic Fiction
Point of View: First person
Literary Techniques – There are lot of literary devices used, the predominant is ‘Satire’. You can also find use of Irony and Flashback.
Satire Example:
1.
The plan of the artists works because of gullible nature of
the people. “No! Why, it is Millet’s, sure enough… Of course I recognize it
now.” Rather than accepting and admitting that they never heard of Francois
Millet, they pretended to know him and paid high prices for the paintings. This
satirises the pride of man.
2. The fact that “… in human history: that the merit of many a great artist has never been acknowledged until after he was starved and dead”. It is one idea satirized in the story. It satirises the hypocrisy and ignorance of people and reflects the distorted phenomenon where artistic works was taken as merchandise.
Irony (Dramatic) Example:
1.
Readers are well aware of their plan. In reality Francois
Millet does not die, he changes his name and lives a wealthy life.
2.
Francois Millet carrying his own coffin disguised as a far
relative deceiving the whole world.
Flashback
1. The success story of four painters is told in flashback.
Structural Technique – The story has used story within a story or dual plot technique.
Characters: Narrator, Smith, Francois Millet (Theophile Magnan), Carl Boulanger, Claude Frere
Setting: The story takes place in the 19th Century, Mentone, France. Menton is a lovely small city in the south of France that has the best of everything: a warm climate year-round, beautiful gardens, excellent French and Italian food, sandy beaches at the foot of the aqua blue Mediterranean sea, and a colorful and historic old town.
Conflict:
1. External Conflict: Man Vs Society – The painters conflict with the society. Initially when no one recognized their talent, they had hard time feeding themselves. Nevertheless, it is solved in a most dramatic manner.
Theme
1.
Posthumous
Appreciation: Francois Millet becomes illustrious after his fake death.
2.
Hypocrisy:
No one cares about the artists works, no matter how artistic their works were
in the beginning. It is so because their names weren’t illustrious. However, this
fact changes when Francois Millet becomes famous. Everyone would later buy his
painting without looking at the quality.
Summary
The story starts on the French resort, Hotel
des Anglais in Mentone. The narrator is acquainted with one of the rich holidaymakers,
alias Smith. Mr. Smith quickly remarks to look at Theophile Magnan who was making
his exit from the hotel and shares a wonderful anecdote of Hans Christian
Anderson ‘The Daisy’. To narrators confusion the topic was left in complete
abruptly. Smith later called the narrator to his room. He then told a story
that happened at the time of his youth; the story revolving around four young
artists (Smith, Carl Boulanger, Claude Frere, and Francois Millet) who had once
lived in a small village (Breton).
These Artists drew fine and excellent
paintings and kept enlarging their stock; however, they could seldom sell it.
At last, they came to the point of bankruptcy. No shop would give them further
credit. In that poverty stricken situation Carl make a lunatic statement
(according to his friends). He patiently waits through his friends comments and
continues his project. He said that “the merit of many a great artist has never
been acknowledged until after he was starved and dead" and suggested if
they want to save themselves from starving, one of them must die. They debated
a lot on the topic, and when Carl explained the whole project clearly, they all
agreed to give a try. When they drew lots, Francois Millet was elected to die.
The plan was "… During the next three
months the one who is to die shall paint with all his might, enlarge his stock
all he can--not pictures, no! skeleton sketches, studies, parts of studies,
fragments of studies, a dozen dabs of the brush on each--meaningless, of
course, but his, with his cipher on them; turn out fifty a day, each to contain
some peculiarity or mannerism easily detectable as his--they're the things that
sell, you know, and are collected at fabulous prices for the world's museums,
after the great man is gone; we'll have a ton of them ready--a ton! And all
that time the rest of us will be busy supporting the moribund, and working
Paris and the dealers--preparations for the coming event, you know; and when
everything is hot and just right, we'll spring the death on them and have the
notorious funeral…"
The project was a great success. When the day
came, all friends were back to help during the final mournful rites with the
whole world to help. Carl, Claude, and Smith carried their friend’s body and
surprisingly Francois Millet, disguised as relative helped carry his own
coffin. This was kept secret between the four for years. Now, he then says, the
man they saw in the morning was Francois Millet.
Connection between Hans Christian Anderson’s
‘The Daisy’ and Is he Living or Is he Dead?
In ‘The
Daisy’ “…The evening came, and nobody appeared to bring the poor bird a drop of
water; it opened its beautiful wings, and fluttered about in its anguish; a
faint and mournful “Tweet, tweet,” was all it could utter, then it bent its
little head towards the flower, and its heart broke for want and longing. The
flower could not, as on the previous evening, fold up its petals and sleep; it
dropped sorrowfully. The boys only came the next morning; when they saw the
dead bird, they began to cry bitterly, dug a nice grave for it, and adorned it
with flowers. The bird’s body was placed in a pretty red box; they wished to
bury it with royal honours. While it was alive and sang they forgot it, and let
it suffer want in the cage; now, they cried over it and covered it with flowers.”
Similarly in
‘Is he Living or Is he Dead’ by Mark Twain, he go on to prove through his
fiction that “the merit of many a great artist has never been acknowledged
until after he was starved and dead.” The bird symbolizes young unrecognized
talents in the story. In addition, these talents are ignored when they are
alive. People only learn to appreciate their talent when they are dead. The
characters of the story did make a great fortune out of gullible nature of
human, which is justifiable.
The question
is, Are humans and society cruel? Well, it depends. Nevertheless, one thing is clear;
we sometimes forget to appreciate what we already got in life. Appreciate and let
us help each other make this society a better one.
1. The
characters in the story are portrayed as high-spirited man. Support the
statement with few examples from the story.
2. Would
you choose to live the life as of Millet’s? Why?
3. State
few reasons why Mr. Smith decides to break the seal.
4. Mr.
Smith reveals what he and his friends did to become rich, but why do he and the
narrator not reveal his name? State two possible answer.
5. How is this story applicable in Bhutanese Context?
References
Library of America. (2018, November 24). Retrieved from http://storyoftheweek.loa.org/2018/11/is-he-living-or-is-he-dead.html
Nahem, R. (2020, july 25). Retrieved from Travel
Awaits:
https://www.travelawaits.com/2550951/why-menton-is-the-best-kept-secret-in-france/
Wikipedia.
(n.d.). Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Angelus_(painting)
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