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)N
NOW listen! In the country, close by the high road,
stood a farmhouse; perhaps you have passed by and seen it yourself. There was a
little flower garden with painted wooden palings in front of it; close by was a
ditch, on its fresh green bank grew a little daisy; the sun shone as warmly and
brightly upon it as on the magnificent garden flowers, and therefore it thrived
well. One morning it had quite opened, and its little snow-white petals stood
round the yellow centre, like the rays of the sun. It did not mind that nobody
saw it in the grass, and that it was a poor despised flower; on the contrary,
it was quite happy, and turned towards the sun, looking upward and listening to
the song of the lark high up in the air.
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 lots of literary devices used,
the predominant is ‘Satire’. You can also find use of Irony and Flashback.
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.
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.
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.
Questions
1. 1. The
characters in the story are portrayed as high-spirited man. Support the
statement with few examples from the story.
2. 2. Would you
choose to live the life as of Millet’s? Why?
3. 3. State few
reasons why Mr. Smith decides to break the seal.
4. 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. 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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