These days we celebrate the 400th birthday of Molière. In France, we talk about it a lot. Some even dream of giving it a place in the Pantheon.
On the scale of history, Molière embodies the absolute genius of the French language, in the same way as Racine, we might add.
Besides, don't we speak the language of Molière?
There is a thousand ways to enter into his work, whether through the Misanthrope, Tartuffe, the Imaginary Invalid, the Bourgeois Gentleman, and so many others.
Molière examines human passions, and one room to another, dismantles the artifice of social conventions. His humor is fierce, acid, political.
More still, it reveals certain human types which survive from one society to another and which still exist in ours, certainly.
Some will say: that the French celebrate Molière, if they want to, but why should it be the same for Quebecers?
We will simply answer: the language of Molière is ours, and the great French literature is ours too. It belongs to us by right, but we have forgotten it.
I am a great admirer of the Quiet Revolution, but we must recognize a serious fault: it cut us off from part of our European cultural heritage, that which was at the heart of the famous classical course.
This heritage has formed several generations of our elites, in contact with Western literary and cultural heritage. He also familiarized them with the great texts of Antiquity.
It is also with this that we must reconnect. But really reconnect. That is to say, you have to read Molière, teach him, stage his plays, and fertilize our French with his. Quebec will be enriched by such reunions. There is an eternal youth in the texts of Molière, as Le Figaro wrote on Saturday. In a word, he will have dissected certain imperishable facets of the human soul, which survive the ages and cross countries.