A (very) few words on French versification

Those who take an interest in formal verse composition in English will probably know a few terms like iambic pentameter, spondee and maybe even trochaic foot. Herewith, a (very) few notes on some things to look for in French verse, focusing on the verse of Victor Hugo. The meter of poetry is in large measure shaped by the way a language flows. Greek and Latin have short and long syllables (the latter take twice as long to enunciate as the former) so their metrical schemes are designed to balance these. English, with its emphasis on stressed syllables, built on Greek and Roman models, but balancing stressed and unstressed syllables in place of long and short syllables. French has little variation in syllable length, and stress, to the extent it occurs at all, is allocated to phrases, not individual words. Because there is not the sort of syllabic variation that would otherwise disturb the flow of a poem, French is able to use the syllable as the basic unit for counting out meter. The two most common meters are: Octosyllabe, i.e. eight-syllable. The octosyllabe is a fast moving meter. Because the lines are relatively short, one seems to feeds into the next, creating a sense of urgency, excitement or anticipation. It is a nice form for rants, rallying cries and battle scenes. Here it nicely captures the eagerness of a visionary Hugo:
Elle apaise l'me qui souffre, Guide la vie, endort la mort; Elle montre aux mchants le gouffre, Elle montre au justes le port. It calms the soul that suffers, Guides life, puts death to bed; It shows the wicked the abyss, It shows the just to port.

For a nice rant in octosyllabe (including a list of charges against Second Empire France), there is Puisque le juste est dans labme:
Puisque le juste est dans l'abme, Puisqu'on donne le sceptre au crime, Puisque tous les droits sont trahis, Puisque les plus fiers restent mornes, Puisqu'on affiche au coin des bornes Le dshonneur de mon pays; O Rpublique de nos pres, Grand Panthon plein de lumires, Dme d'or dans le libre azur, Temple des ombres immortelles, Puisqu'on vient avec des chelles Coller l'empire sur ton mur; Puisque toute me est affaiblie, Since the right is in the abyss, Since crime has been given the scepter, Since all our rights have been betrayed, Since the brave are taken by gloom, Since bans are posted at every corner Dishonor upon my country; Oh our fathers Republic, Pantheon of our leading lights, Golden dome in the free blue sky, Temple of the immortal shades, Since they come with their ladders To paste the empire over your walls; Since every soul has gone weak,

Puisqu'on rampe; puisqu'on oublie Le vrai, le pur, le grand, le beau, Les yeux indigns de l'histoire, L'honneur, la loi, le droit, la gloire, Et ceux qui sont dans le tombeau; Je t'aime, exil! douleur, je t'aime! Tristesse, sois mon diadme. Je t'aime, altire pauvret! J'aime ma porte aux vents battue. J'aime le deuil, grave statue Qui vient s'asseoir mon ct. J'aime le malheur qui m'prouve; Et cette ombre o je vous retrouve, O vous qui mon coeur sourit, Dignit, foi, vertu voile, Toi, libert, fire exile, Et toi, dvoment, grand proscrit! J'aime cette le solitaire, Jersey, que la libre Angleterre Couvre de son vieux pavillon, L'eau noire, par moments accrue, Le navire, errante charrue, Le flot, mystrieux sillon. J'aime ta mouette, mer profonde, Qui secoue en perles ton onde Sur son aile aux fauves couleurs, Plonge dans les lames gantes, Et sort de ces gueules bantes Comme l'me sort des douleurs! J'aime la roche solennelle D'o j'entends la plainte ternelle, Sans trve comme le remords, Toujours renaissant dans les ombres, Des vagues sur les cueils sombres, Des mres sur leurs enfants morts.

Since we creep along and forget The true, the pure, the great, the beautiful, Eyes indignant before history, Honor, law, right and glory, And those who rest within the grave; I love you, Exile! Suffering, I love you. Sadness, be my crown. I love you, dignified Poverty! I love my door pounded by the winds. I love Mourning, that somber statue That comes and sits beside me. I love the Misfortune I suffer; And that shadow where I run into you, You for whom my heart smiles, Dignity, Faith, hidden Virtue, And you, Liberty, proud exile, And you, banished Devotion! I love this solitary isle, Jersey, that free England Shades beneath its umbrella, The black waters at moments deepened, The ship, a wandering plow, The wave, mysterious furrow. I love your seagull, oh deep sea, That stirs up pearls in your wave Upon its tawny wing, Plunges into giant swells, And flies off with its gaping maw As the soul flies free of suffering! I love the solemn rock From where I hear the eternal cry, Unending like remorse, Ever reborn in the shadows, The waves upon the dark reefs , Mother over their children who have died.

The other major French meter is: Alexandrin. Alexandrin verse consists of twelve syllable lines. It takes its name from the Roman d'Alexandre, or Story of Alexander (the Great), the first major work written in this meter. If the octosyllabe goes quickly, the Alexandrin is more ponderous. It captures brooding emotion, careful reasoning and - of course - the unfolding of histories of epic proportions. An astute poet might use the octosyllabe to describe the sack of Troy, but use the Alexandrin to meditate on the caprice of the gods who brought it forth or the suffering of the vainquished Trojan people. Here are a few lines from Hugo's Dolorosae, poem twelve of the fifth book of Les Contemplations:
Mre, voil douze ans que notre fille est morte; Et depuis, moi le pre et vous la femme forte, Mother, your child died twelve years past; Since then you, strong woman, and me, father,

Nous n'avons pas t, Dieu le sait, un seul jour Sans parfumer son nom de prire et d'amour.

We havent passed, God knows, a single day, Without cherishing her name with love and prayer.

Nox offers a more muscular use of the Alexandrin:

C'est la date choisie au fond de ta pense, Prince! il faut en finir, -- cette nuit est glace, Viens, lve-toi! flairant dans l'ombre les escrocs, Le dogue Libert gronde et montre ses crocs. Quoique mis par Carlier la chane, il aboie. N'attends pas plus longtemps! C'est l'heure de la proie. Vois, dcembre paissit son brouillard le plus noir; Comme un baron voleur qui sort de son manoir, Surprends, brusque assaillant, l'ennemi que tu cernes. Debout! les regiments sont la dans les casernes, Sac au dos, abrutis de vin et de fureur, N'attendant qu'un bandit pour faire un empereur. Mets ta main sur ta lampe et viens d'un pas oblique, Prends ton couteau, l'instant est bon : la Rpublique, Confiante, et sans voir tes yeux sombres briller, Dort, avec ton serment, prince, pour oreiller. At the bottom of your thoughts, this is the night you chose, Prince, you must now make an end - the night is froze Come, get up! for sensing in shadow the smell of a thief That old dog, Liberty, is growling and baring its teeth. Though Carlier has chained it, it still continues to bay You can't wait any longer. It's time now for the prey. Look, December spreads a fog that's blacker than black Just as a robber baron from his manor slips out the back. Surprise now cold assassin the enemy in your sights. Up! The regiments in the barracks wait tonight. Knapsacks ready, now crazed with wine and with a furor, Settling for a bandit to become an Emperor. Take your lantern and come with careful steps-and quickTake your knife, the time is ripe, for just now the Republic Confident and not seeing how your dark eyes do glow Sleep with your oath, prince, tucked beneath the pillow.

Neither the octosyllabe nor the Alexandrin is spoken in one breath. Instead, the lines divide into two roughly equal phrases. Each part is referred to as the Hemistiche. A hemistitch is quite simply half a line. Here is a line of octosyllabe divided into hemistiches: Puisque le juste / est dans l'abme Here is an Alexandrin divided into hemistiches: C'est la date choisie / au fond de ta pense Strictly speaking, an octosyllabe ought divide into two four-syllable hemistiches, an Alexandrin into two six-syllable hemistiches. In practice, the occasional line will pop up that cannot be read comfortably applying this standard. The octosyllabe example on the preceeding page has a few lines that might more easily divide 5/3 than 4/4. The important thing is to find a division that allows for a smooth reading of the line. There remain two concepts in this tutorial, one for the understanding of poetry, the other for enunciating it. In reading French poetry (as well as English poetry), one will often find that the "sentences" or units of meaning in the poem do not correspond exactly to the lines of verse. To some extent, the continuation of a thought from one line to the next is a necessity for the form; either an idea won't fit on one line or the meter or rhyme scheme cannot be maintained without re-ordering the elements of the thought being expressed. Sometimes, however, a poet will deliberately finish a thought with one or two words on the following line for the express purpose of keeping the

reader going from line to line and associating one idea with the next. Hugo makes relatively liberal use of this device, which is called enjambement; however, Tennyson's Ulysses may better make the point for Anglophone readers: ...All times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vexed the dim sea... The whole passage features ideas which start on one line and finish on the next, but the "greatly" is an unqualified enjambement. It unquestionably belongs to the line above, yet there it is, on the following line, thus serving to unite enjoyment and suffering. Reading French Poetry This section presumes that the reader knows how to pronounce modern French; covering the pronunciation of French is beyond the scope of this short article. The notes below only differentiate between standard French pronunciation and the reading of poetry. In modern French pronunciation, one usually drops unaccented e's unless doing so will result in three consonants being pronounced together. In poetry, this "e caduc" is pronounced everywhere except 1) at the end of a word, if the next word starts with a vowel, 2) at the end of the hemistiche (now you know why the hemistiche had to be explained) and 3) at the end of a line. Here's a short passage with hemistiches marked and unpronounced e's in bold (the pronounced e's are plain text):
Un jour, maigre et sentant / un royal apptit, Un singe d'une peau / de tigre se vtit. Le tigre avait t / mchant, lui, fut atroce. Il avait endoss le droit d'tre froce.

To show the difference, here's the same passage; this time the boldface e's are those that would be left out in modern conversational French:
Un jour, maigre et sentant un royal apptit, Un singe d'une peau de tigre se vtit. Le tigre avait t mchant, lui, fut atroce. Il avait endoss le droit d'tre froce.

For reference, here is the translation:

Possessed of royal appetite, and feeling rather thin, A monkey one day dressed himself in a tiger's skin The tiger had been nasty; the monkey was atrocious, Wearing on his back the right to be ferocious.