An Imaginary Interview with George Sand

Portrait of George Sand, circa 1837. Found in the Collection of Musée de la Vie romantique, Paris. Artist Charpentier, Auguste (1815-1880). (Photo by Fine Art Images/Heritage Images via Getty Images)

Madame George Sand (née Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin) lived until 1876, when she died at Nohant, her beloved home in central France. She was 71. Adored in France in her time, she remains popular in the hearts of many readers. Many of her 58 books and 13 plays are still taught in schools today. Such accomplishments in the face of overwhelming male dominance in literature shows how remarkable she was in literary circles. Here is an interview with questions I would like to have asked her and her imagined responses.

Q. Madame Sand, you were embattled on so many fronts during your life: a monarchy that ignored the cries of the workers, difficulty getting published in a profession that eschewed women writers, and men thinking women were good for only one thing. Do you think that dressing like a man and smoking cigars made a difference?

A. I would not have done it if I had thought otherwise. Besides, if someone did not like my attire and smoking habits, it was their problem. It got me noticed, though. And what author does not want that?

Q. Did you become tired of fighting it all?

A. After Prince Président Louis Phillipe coronated himself to become Napoléon III, I realized the power structure was just too dominant. I lost my zeal. I just wanted to relieve the suffering of others.

Q. Like Chopin’s?

A. Well, yes, in the beginning I mothered him, but there were diminishing returns.

Q. Such as?

A. That’s an intrusive question. Could we move on, please?

Q. You had many admirers of your work, among them, Victor Hugo, who said in his eulogy at your funeral:“In this country whose law is to complete the French Revolution and begin that of the equality of the sexes, being a part of the equality of men, a great woman was needed. It was necessary to prove that a woman could have all the manly gifts without losing any of her angelic qualities, be strong without ceasing to be tender . . . George Sand proved it.”Is this the way you wanted people to remember you, as someone who had “manly gifts” but was also “angelic”?

A. I know Victor meant well. But hidden in the comment is the assumption that women are not inherently equal and that women have to somehow “prove” to men that they have these gifts. Why must we women prove anything? Obviously, they have thought us deficient in the first place. And why are these gifts considered “manly”? I do not accept his premise. And what, pray tell, are “angelic qualities”? Are men asked if they possess a similar quality to balance out their noxious masculinity? You asked earlier why I was tired. Here is why: I am tired of fighting stupidity.

Q. But, you said Victor Hugo meant well.

A. Yes. That is my only concession to his comments. Women want to be judged as remarkable. End of discussion. Not as someone who is remarkable even though they are female, as if it is a handicap that that some of us rise above.

Q. I think that Victor Hugo’s words were quite charitable compared with Baudelaire’s:“[Sand] is stupid, heavy and garrulous. Her ideas on morals have the same depth of judgment and delicacy of feeling as those of janitresses and kept women . . . The fact that there are men who could become enamoured of this slut is indeed a proof of the abasement of the men of this generation.”Were your feelings hurt by his words?

A. Both Hugo and Baudelaire suffered from the same problem: comparing me to some ideal woman. Ideal according to whom? Hugo’s problem with women was just more veiled. Even though he was quite charitable and a lot less caustic in his eulogy, it was just as condescending toward women as Baudelaire’s ignorant rant. He did not even try to hide his prejudice. Citing a “janitress” and “kept woman” as the lowest rung of womanhood, why, how much more disdainful could he be? It smacks of the same queer logic as when men denigrate prostitutes while availing themselves of their services.

Q. Do you have any regrets?

A. I find it a silly exercise to look back and judge the past with today’s eyes. I spoke my mind when I thought it the right time and place. I did not look to see who approved or disapproved. In the end, I clung to my values and concentrated on cherishing those around me.

Q. Did you cherish Chopin? I ask that because some people today believe you abandoned him to his detriment. He flourished when he was with you but deteriorated precipitously when you threw him out.

A. Yes, he did die two years later. But there is no cause and effect here, as you imply. I will not take on that guilt. I was not responsible for him after he left. He could have found someone else to take care of him. We all have free will. That is all I am going to say on that subject.

Q. Madame Sand, I appreciate your time. And congratulations on your enduring fame in France.

A. Je vous en pris.