avant d’avoir déversé encore quelques pots de merde sur la tête de mes semblables

From a letter of Flaubert’s to Ivan Turgenev (Nov. 8 1879):

I too sometimes feel quite old, quite tired, worn down to the marrow. No matter! – I go on and I wouldn’t want to die before I’ve again overturned some shitpots on the heads of my fellow man.

Moi aussi je me sens parfois bien vieux, bien las, éreinté jusqu’aux moelles. N’importe ! – je continue et je ne voudrais pas crever avant d’avoir déversé encore quelques pots de merde sur la tête de mes semblables.

A man who despises a given societal reality but makes not the least attempt to transcend it

From Jean Amery’s Charles Bovary, Country Doctor (pg 61 of the NYRB edition):

To the danger of “good” sentiments – of melioristic conventionality, as found in bourgeois authors a la Romain Rolland and proletarian ones of the Martin Andersen Nexo or Maxim Gorky stamp – Flaubert refuses to be subject, for the simple reason that he does not have them.  He detests mankind, if not individuals exactly, for he is a tender and obedient son, a faithful friend, and a loyal citizen, though this last quality makes him suspect from the perspective of humanity.  His hatred of his class, of which, in his private life, he represents an ideal specimen, may be the simple projection of self-hatred.  His obsequiousness before “art,” before “style,” embodies the existential situation of a man who despises a given societal reality but makes not the least attempt to transcend it or even to recognize the positive elements it contains.  The reality of Gustave Flaubert is language, his language, and if, as Bovaqry’s master, he becomes the greatest realist writer of the century, he does so in opposition to his own aesthetic theories, in contradiction to his notion of his own artistic gestalt.