Preface 



wholly to consist. We therefore open the 

 book without zest and without unreasonable 

 expectations; and forthwith, from between 

 the open leaves, there rises and unfolds itself, 

 without hesitation, without interruption and 

 almost without remission to the end of the 

 four thousand pages, the most extraordinary 

 of tragic fairy plays that it is possible for the 

 human imagination, not to create or to con- 

 ceive, but to admit and to acclimatize within 

 itself. 



Indeed, there is no question here of the 

 human imagination. The insect does not be- 

 long to our world. The other animals, the 

 plants even, notwithstanding their dumb life 

 and the great secrets which they cherish, do 

 not seem wholly foreign to us. In spite of 

 all, we feel a certain earthly brotherhood in 

 them. They often surprise and amaze our 

 intelligence, but do not utterly upset it. 

 There is something, on the other hand, about 

 the insect that does not seem to belong to the 

 habits, the ethics, the psychology of our 

 globe. One would be inclined to say that the 

 insect comes from another planet, more mon- 

 strous, more energetic, more insane, more 

 atrocious, more infernal than our own. One 

 would think that it was born of some comet 



