I chose to adapt Maupassant for a very simple reason: I like Maupassant. It seems to me that a short story like A Day in the Country has everything . . . In addition, [it] didn’t confine me. A play would force me to use its dialogue, but A Day in the Country didn’t force me to use anything; it simply gave me an ideal framework that I could embellish.
I deeply believe in this concept of a framework to embellish, but it leads to the question of plagiarism.
I must admit, I’m in favor of plagiarism. If we are to create a new Renaissance of literature and the arts, the government should encourage plagiarism. When convinced that someone is a true plagiarist, we should immediately award them the Legion of Honor. I’m not kidding! Our great authors did nothing but plagiarize and it worked amazingly: Shakespeare spent his time reusing the stories of minor Italian authors; Corneille stole Guillén de Castro’s Cid and made it into the French Le Cid; and Molière pillaged Greek and Latin sources. I say, “Bravo!” If you habitually use a story already invented by another, you free yourself from what is unimportant. In art, what is unimportant is inventing the story. The story doesn’t matter; what matters is how it’s told. If the story already exists, we’re free to concentrate on what is truly important: the details, the evolution of the characters and the situations.
Forgive my tangent. It has nothing to do with A Day in the Country. Well, I’m here to talk to you, so that’s what I’m doing.