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Jeremy D. Popkin | Worlds Turned Upside Down: Bourgeois Experience in the 19th-century Revolutions | Journal of Social History, 40.4 | The History Cooperative
40.4  
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Summer, 2007
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WORLDS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN: BOURGEOIS EXPERIENCE IN THE 19TH-CENTURY REVOLUTIONS

By Jeremy D. Popkin University of Kentucky


On March 13, 1848, Jean-Baptiste Monfalcon, the fifty-six-year-old municipal librarian of Lyon, sat down to draft a letter to the newly appointed "Citizen Mayor" who had taken control of the local government in France's second largest city as a result of the revolution in Paris three weeks earlier. Monfalcon was a prominent figure in his native city's local life. In addition to his post at the library, he was a doctor who had held positions at several of Lyon's public medical institutions. In the early 1830s, he had been a leading local journalist, and he was a prolific author, who had published many books on medical and publichealth topics, local history, and classical literature. In other words, Monfalcon was unquestionably a local bourgeois notable, an almost perfect representative of that class that had supposedly come to power in France in 1830 and that was destined to maintain its hegemony for most of the nineteenth century. 1
      On this particular occasion, however, Monfalcon was not feeling much like a hegemon. His manuscripts are normally neat and easily readable, but the rough draft of this letter is covered with corrections, signs of the state of anxiety in which he composed it. His state of mind was reflected in the epigraph that he placed at the top of the letter: "Vous êtes traqué de tous côtés." ["You are hunted from all sides."] There were good reasons for this anxiety. As a prominent supporter of the just-toppled Orleanist regime, Monfalcon was in danger of losing the librarianship he sought for many years and finally obtained in 1847. "You are certainly unfamiliar with my obscure name, so please allow me to tell you something about myself," the by-no-means obscure Monfalcon wrote to the newly installed republican magistrate, humbling himself but also giving himself an excuse to mention his ten literary prizes (two awarded by the Académie française), his "editions in eight languages of Virgil, Horace, Anacreon, and the Imitation of Christ," his works on public health problems, and his history of Lyon. "From 1830 to 1834," he admitted, "I defended ... the principle of constitutional monarchy, resting openly on republican institutions; it was the legal opinion and that of the majority." But, he maintained, "for the last fourteen years, I have had nothing to do with politics, either directly or indirectly." 2
      Having listed his accomplishments and attempted to justify his political conduct, Monfalcon finally got to the point. At first, he considered adopting a tone of pathos, putting down the words, "My post at the library is my main means of existence; I have a fairly large family." On second thought, he crossed out this emotional appeal and based his case on considerations of justice and public interest. "Will you keep me in a position that I have obtained by so much effort? Engaged on the instructions of your predecessor in some important publications, will I be able to continue them and carry out the general reorganization of the library? Will the Republic, which has solemnly guaranteed bread to hardworking laborers, take away that which thirty years of hard toil has gotten me?" In conclusion, Monfalcon assured the mayor of "my sincere adherence to the Republic." Evidently deciding that this declaration was insufficient, he inserted a few more words, calling the republic "the ideal form of government when it is truly [accepted] by the country."1 . . .

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