Instruct: Given a question, retrieve relevant documents that answer the question.
Query: At what school did Șerban Cioculescu teach?
Șerban Cioculescu (Romanian pronunciation:[ʃerˈban t͡ʃjokuˈlesku]; 7 September 1902 – 25 June 1988) was a Romanian literary critic, literary historian and columnist, who held teaching positions in Romanian literature at the University of Iași and the University of Bucharest, as well as membership of the Romanian Academy and chairmanship of its Library. Often described as one of the most representative Romanian critics of the interwar period, he took part in the cultural debates of the age, and, as a left-wing sympathizer who supported secularism, was involved in extended polemics with the traditionalist, far right and nationalist press venues. From early on in his career, Cioculescu was also noted for his selective approach to literary modernism and the avant-garde, preferring to place his cultural references with Neoclassicism.
The two main subjects of Cioculescu's work were Caragiale and Arghezi, seen by Alex. Ștefănescu as his "elective affinities" (the same critic notes that the 1945 study of Dimitrie Anghel "was not preceded or followed by works on the same subject").[6] In Caragiale's case, Ștefănescu argued, Cioculescu proved his "admirable philological rigor", but did not produce a unitary interpretation of his subject: "There is not [...] a single Caragiale as seen by Șerban Cioculescu."[6] He added: "The finality of Șerban Cioculescu's enterprise is something other than erecting a temple, and is in effect the preservation of interest for I. L. Caragiale's work."[6] This was explicitly stated by the author, who was quoted by George Călinescu as stating: "[Caragiale] will indisputably find a writer of great talent to enliven his face."[76] According to Călinescu: "[Cioculescu's] contributions on the subject of Caragiale merit a perfect trust. [...] The biographical talent, which he will not attribute to himself, is nonetheless present in Șerban Cioculescu."[76] Noting that the main techniques used by his colleague were "insinuation" and "repetition", Călinescu proposed: "For the reader used to architecture, the effect may prove disappointing, but for the refined, especially one bored with the sublime style, the impression is relevant. All the essential characteristics of Caragiale the man are lightly touched, pinned down with needles, presented for the internal eye to see."[76]
Instead, Cioculescu made his living teaching French language at Bucharest's Saint Sava National College. He had among his students G. Brătescu, the future physician and medical historian, also known as a Communist Party militant after the war (before being marginalized and excluded by the group in the late 1950s). In his 2003 autobiography, Brătescu recalled that Cioculescu's method went beyond the Romanian curriculum and parallel to the National Legionary requirements, introducing his students to innovative French 19th- and 20th-century authors, from Arthur Rimbaud to Marcel Proust.[29] Also according to Brătescu, Cioculescu introduced his students to the banned or unpublished works of Arghezi, and openly praised the poet's political stance.[30] In late 1940, Cioculescu also reacted to the Iron Guard's mass murders of politicians affiliated with previous regimes—the Jilava Massacre and the killings of Iorga and economist Virgil Madgearu. His Saint Sava student Brătescu, who frequented Iorga's circles in Vălenii de Munte, presented him with some of Iorga's final texts for Cuget Clar.[31]
In his 2008 review of the volume, Săndulescu noted that the text omitted important details from its author's life. Given the date of completion, he describes as understandable that Cioculescu failed to mention facts about his anti-communist brother and his death in confinement, and believes it natural that the book does not include any detail about the critic's own affiliation with the anti-communist Dreptatea.[3] However, he sees a bizarre tendency in that Amintiri skips over Cioculescu's time in Paris.[3]
The main targets of Cioculescu's objections were the mysticism, traditionalism and political radicalism embraced by the right-wing or far right intellectuals in reaction to the political and cultural establishment of Greater Romania. His older colleague Lovinescu, who shared his concerns and defended the notion of liberal democracy, recognized in him an unexpectedly efficient ally: "people with more astute critical senses should have organized themselves long ago into a common front against the enemy that stood on the horizon [...]. They nevertheless failed to understand the danger, its concreteness, and only fought casually. More gifted in this area, Șerban Cioculescu has himself been firing a number of rifle shots and hit his target. The scattered articles against mystics and mystagogues are the finest, the only ones to transpose the fight on an ideological ground, to legitimize it."[6] Alex. Ștefănescu deemed his teacher "a convinced rationalist, whom neither moments of collective exultation contaminated nor the perils managed to turn into an anxious being."[6]
By 1944, he was reintegrated into the corps of school inspectors by the Antonescu cabinet's Education Minister Ion Petrovici (who had also employed Streinu as his adviser).[32] According to a rumor spread by Jewish Romanian author Sergiu Dan (and passed on by diarist Emil Dorian), the antisemitic Petrovici intended to task Cioculescu and Streinu with compiling an official history of Romanian literature to compete with George Călinescu's liberal version (the 1941 Istoria literaturii române); reportedly, the goal was to eliminate all Jewish contributions to local letters, about which Călinescu had spoken in detail.[35] The Cioculescu family's condemnation of official antisemitic policies and the Holocaust in Romania was however stated by Radu Cioculescu, who had witnessed and exposed murders committed by the Romanian Army on the Eastern Front.[36]
Shortly after his return from Paris, Cioculescu established himself as a presence on the literary scene, and began frequenting the informal and bohemian literary club formed around Casa Capșa restaurant.[3] One of his earliest polemics was carried with his colleague Perpessicius by means of Adevărul journal: Cioculescu found his adversary's aesthetic relativism and rejection of "sectarianism" to be incompatible with the mission of critic.[8] Between 1928 and 1929, Cioculescu and Streinu were on the staff of Kalende, a literary magazine published in Pitești, Argeș County.[3] After a short interval during which he worked as a schoolteacher in Găești town (where he was notably a contributor to the short-lived modernist review Cristalul),[9] Cioculescu entered the civil service, becoming an inspector of Romanian schools.[3] This was the alleged start of a documented lifelong rivalry between Cioculescu and literary historian George Călinescu: the inspector reportedly chose to intervene during an Italian-language class Călinescu was giving to high school students, and managed instead to infuriate him.[3]
Cioculescu eventually took his Ph.D. in 1945, with a monograph on Dimitrie Anghel, the early-20th-century poet and representative of Romania's Symbolist school.[6][39][40] As he himself recalled, this decision came after Dean Constantin Balmuș promised him a teaching position at the University of Iași Faculty of Letters, if he agreed to obtain the necessary qualifications within a short interval.[40] His dissertation reviewer was Tudor Vianu, and the commission evaluating his candidature for the teaching post comprised George Călinescu, who assured him of being "my candidate".[40] In July 1946, after earning approval from the commission, Cioculescu took over his new assignment, sharing the chair with Călinescu.[40]
Cioculescu's stances resulted in his marginalization early during World War II, when, after the fall of King Carol II's National Renaissance Front, the fascist and antisemitic Iron Guard took over (see Romania during World War II). Dumitru Caracostea, appointed by the National Legionary government as head of Revista Fundațiilor Regale suspended the contributions of critics whom he considered supporters of Jewish literature: Perpessicius, Cioculescu and Streinu.[28] The measure raised angry comments from the anti-fascist Lovinescu, who deemed it "idiotic".[28]
As early as his time with Kalende, Cioculescu took the side of secularism in the debate about the specific values of Romanians, the notion of "Romanian spirituality" and the role the Romanian Orthodox Church could claim in defining them. Early on, he stated that a typical national spirituality was a "desideratum", not a historical reality.[68] Ornea included Cioculescu among the secularists providing a convincing reply to the Orthodox group at Gândirea magazine, and notes that, in doing so, the group also expressed support for Westernization.[69] Early in the 1930s, Cioculescu nominated Gândirea, alongside its partners Curentul and Cuvântul, as a partisan of a dogmatic Orthodoxy "plagued by nullification".[15] According to Ornea's assessment, Cioculescu also shared the belief that Orthodoxy could not support national specificity, since it was closely related to the global Eastern Orthodox Church, and not limited geographically to Romanian-inhabited areas.[70]
During the state-endorsed supremacy of the Socialist Realist establishment, Cioculescu was targeted by communist censorship, being closely scrutinized and having his publishing privileges reduced to a minimum.[45][46] In a 1949 piece, communist ideologue Leonte Răutu singled out Cioculescu for his conclusion on 19th century Romanian author Mihai Eminescu, widely seen as Romania's national poet. Răutu's article, a negative review of "cosmopolitan" tendencies in local literature, reacted against Cioculescu's interpretation of Eminescu's work as a late consequence of German Romanticism.[43] After 1954, however, Cioculescu was allowed to contribute articles for Gazeta Literară, a new magazine headed by communist figure Paul Georgescu.[46]
A special connection between Caragiale and experimental literature was his ambition of modifying the standard Romanian lexis, through the introduction of neologisms or the recovery of obscure archaisms. Șerban Cioculescu argued that, by adopting this "twinned regime", Caragiale prolonged his stylistic connection with Parnassianism into the realm of avant-garde poetry, but did so at the risk of confusing his readers. The neologisms, some of which were described as "very curious" by the critic, include words that did not settle into the common language, such as "perpetrat" ("perpetrated") and "sfinctic" ("sphinx-like"); among the archaic words employed are some words found in Romanian Orthodox Church vocabulary—"blagoslovenie" ("blessing"), "pogribanie" ("funeral")—and obsolete titles such as "virhovnic" ("leader"). According to the Cioculescu, Luca shared Mateiu's love for antiquated things, but was in effect "more complex" stylistically than his brother. The speech characteristics were doubled by a recourse to theatrical attitudes, leading Barbu Cioculescu to speak of a stylistic approach reconnecting Luca's work to those of his forefathers, and especially to Ion Luca Caragiale's "mimetic" approach to comedy writing.
(in Romanian) , Museum of Romanian Literature profile
As he was to recall later in life, Șerban Cioculescu was a sickly and inhibited child, who enjoyed spending his time in the family garden.[1][2][3] Born in Bucharest, he was the second son of engineer N. Cioculescu,[3] and the younger brother (by one year) of Radu, who later made himself known for both his original literary works and his translations from Marcel Proust.[3][4] Both parents died when the brothers were still young children: their father in 1912, their mother in 1914.[1] They were assigned to the care of his grandparents, who reputedly favored a severe approach to education.[1][2] According to Cioculescu, although objectionable, his grandmother's stern nature ultimately contributed to fortifying his internal self, given that "happiness has no educational virtues."[1]
Several new volumes of Cioculescu's essays were published during the early 1970s. They included a 1971 book documenting his interest in French culture (Medalioane franceze, "French Medallions", Editura Univers),[6] the 1972 Aspecte literare contemporane, 1932–1947 ("Contemporary Literary Aspects, 1932–1947", Editura Minerva).[6][56] In collaboration with Editura Eminescu, he followed up with the collections Itinerar critic ("Critical Itinerary"), published by Editura Eminescu as five volumes (printed between 1973 and 1989) and a 1974 corpus of his lifelong studies on Caragiale (Caragialiana).[6] He was made a full member of the Academy in 1974.[57] His reception speech, a study on the life and work of Bessarabian author Teodor Vârnav, was issued as a separate volume (published by Editura Academiei) in 1975.[6] Also in 1975, Editura Eminescu published his memoirs, Amintiri ("Recollections"),[1][6] followed in 1976 by the Museum of Romanian Literature's book of interviews 13 rotonde prezidate de Șerban Cioculescu ("13 Round Tables Hosted by Șerban Cioculescu").[6]
On his 100th birthday in 2002, Șerban Cioculescu was commemorated through festivities held at the Museum of Romanian Literature in Bucharest; the place chosen for this was a conference hall where he had presided over several writers' reunions in the 1960s and 1970s.[84] Among the many reprints of his works before and after the 1989 Revolution is a 2007 third edition of Amintiri, edited by Simona Cioculescu and accompanied by his travel writings.[3] In 2009, she also edited a collected edition of his theater chronicles for Semnalul.[37] Șerban Cioculescu's name was assigned to streets in Găești and Pitești, as well as to a private high school in Turnu Severin.
Also according to Ornea, the post-Junimist group, alongside Mihail Sebastian and Octav Șuluțiu, was also the leading school of interwar critics, without whom "interwar literature would be hard to imagine."[64] Literary historian Sami Damian sees Cioculescu and several of the others among the "eminent" group of authors directly influenced by the older Lovinescu, opting to "apply a program of aesthetic independence".[65] Similarly, critic and historian Mircea Iorgulescu discussed Cioculescu as a member of Lovinescu's "first posterity".[33] Șerban Cioculescu's own literary style was judged by Alex. Ștefănescu to represent a peak of the interwar tradition, and a link with classical mindset, characterized by calm and erudition, as well as by "the [...] individualism of an urban dweller with a sense of humor".[6] He found its "pedantic and digressive style" similar to that of 19th-century writer Alexandru Odobescu, author of the complex essay Pseudo-cynegetikos, but noted that Cioculescu matched Odobescu's "reverie" with "malicious soberness."[6] In a 1989 essay, literary reviewer Ion Simuț spoke about "the ironic style" of articles and studies authored by Cioculescu, as well as by his colleagues Călinescu and Cornel Regman, and identified by him as inspired by the comediography of Ion Luca Caragiale.[66] However, Cioculescu did not relate to criticism as an integral aspect of literature, believing that it lacked a creative dimension, and warned against the danger posed by subjectivity.[1]
Writer Ștefan Agopian, who met Cioculescu during the 1980s, recalled that the literary community was puzzled as to why Cioculescu himself was not arrested, and claims that his rescue was largely owed to Paul Georgescu, who secretly harbored anti-Stalinist convictions of his own.[46] Agopian cites Georgescu saying: "He had done nothing wrong, so he was still usable, we could not afford to lose a guy like Cioculescu just so we could have our prisons filled. Cioculescu's luck was that the idiots upstairs listened to me."[46] However, according to the account of comparatist Matei Călinescu, who was then working for Gazeta Literară, Georgescu took personal part in censoring Cioculescu's work: in one such case, Cioculescu had written a political text on the occasion of May Day, believing that the Party was requesting a sign of loyalty from him, but unaware that authors with few political credentials were in fact barred from publishing around national holidays.[45][51] According to this account, Georgescu was infuriated by his subordinate's action, and made a point of disavowing it publicly—an attitude linked by him with Georgescu's dogmatism.[51][52] According to Agopian, this was nevertheless a subtle attempt to prevent Cioculescu from discrediting his name by associating it with communist messages.[51]
Cioculescu is often understood as one in a generation of prominent interwar critics who, although diverse in their views, built on the legacy of Junimea, a 19th-century literary society, and on the tenets of its leader, Titu Maiorescu.[3] The definitions of this group vary somewhat, but definitions usually include Cioculescu, Lovinescu, Streinu, Vianu, George Călinescu, Pompiliu Constantinescu and Perpessicius.[3][60] Cioculescu viewed Maiorescu as a providential figure, who had prevailed over a climate of cultural chaos, but believed his skills as a critic were not outstanding.[61] Z. Ornea believes that Cioculescu and his colleagues nuanced the Junimist conservative outlook and belief in art for art's sake by borrowing from the historicism of its main left-wing adversaries, the Poporanists and socialists grouped around Viața Românească journal.[62] He argued that such a synthesis was foremost illustrated by Cioculescu's affiliation with Adevărul, which maintained close relations with the Viața Românească group.[63]
Acclaimed for his research into the work and biographies of writers Ion Luca Caragiale and Tudor Arghezi, and considered one of the leading experts on these subjects, he was primarily a literary columnist. Throughout his lifetime, Cioculescu worked with prominent Romanian press venues, among them Adevărul, Curentul, Dreptatea, Gazeta Literară and România Literară. Marginalized by fascist governments during World War II and persecuted by the communist regime up to the 1960s, Cioculescu later developed an ambiguous relationship with the national communist authorities, returning to the cultural mainstream and regaining his influence over the literary scene. It was during the latter interval that Cioculescu provoked several controversies, primarily by speaking out against the rebellious Onirist writers and the innovative poetry of Nichita Stănescu.
Cioculescu's attitude and status changed radically in the 1960s. At the time, as Gazeta Literară was taken out of circulation, Cioculescu became editor in chief of Viața Românească, one of the country's oldest literary reviews.[53] Writing in 2001, critic Iulian Băicuș described the writer as a "convert on the Road to Damascus, which back then was passing through Moscow".[4] According to historian Vladimir Tismăneanu, Cioculescu, like George Călinescu and Vladimir Streinu, was persuaded by the national communist discourse adopted by previously Stalinist leader Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej, which implied a rapprochement between the regime and the intellectuals.[54] In 1961, his brother, Radu Cioculescu, was a victim of communist repression, dying as a political prisoner in Dej penitentiary.[3][4] According to a testimony by fellow inmate Ion Ioanid, the last months of Radu Cioculescu's life were marked by a fall-out with his brother, probably caused by their ideological rift: he was returning packages sent by Șerban and repeatedly denying him visits.[4]
However, Cioculescu himself associated modernism with pornography, and expressed his distaste for erotic literature in general. In a 1934 article, he claimed that Lady Chatterley's Lover, the controversial novel of English author D. H. Lawrence, like various works of pulp fiction translated from English, served to titillate "the impubescent and the perverted".[24] He urged Romanian publishers to review their criteria by opting for aesthetic value in favor of commercial success.[24] Writing for Adevărul journal in late 1936, Cioculescu reprimanded Eliade for what he perceived as inconsistency: himself repeatedly accused of being a pornographer by sections of the far right, the novelist had reacted against "opportunistic" colleagues who published erotic texts in order to commercially exploit the controversy.[25] Contrasting his works with theirs, Eliade claimed that he had introduced "aggressive and savage" erotic scenes to his novels so as to provide "a vital dimension" to his characters.[25] Recalling the critic's reaction to this perspective, he assessed: "[Cioculescu was] showing through my own example that the distinction I wanted to make between 'writers' and 'opportunists' was an impractical one. The article did not convince me."[25]
Cioculescu's primary education was completed at the Schewitz-Thierrin boarding school, which left him with other similarly unpleasant memories.[1] He later graduated from the Traian High School in Turnu Severin, a Danube port in western Romania.[3] He subsequently attended Bucharest University's Faculty of Letters and Philosophy, where he specialized in the study of the French language.[3] Cioculescu had among his professors critics Mihail Dragomirescu and Ovid Densusianu, comparatist Charles Drouhet, as well as historians Nicolae Iorga[1][3] and Vasile Pârvan.[3] He made himself known early on by speaking out his mind during Dragomirescu's lectures, and taking distance from his teacher's opinions.[1][3][5] It was during one of Dragomirescu's classes that Cioculescu first met Vladimir Streinu, who became his best friend.[1] He was also acquainted to and fell in love with his female colleague Maria (Mioara) Iovițoiu, whom he soon after married.[1]
In George Călinescu's assessment, Cioculescu's formal politeness and "maximal protocol", while reaching the status of an "individual nuance", was also a direct influence of Streinu.[76] According to Paul Cernat, Șerban Cioculescu's legacy, particularly in matter of "inquisitive" style, is foremost illustrated by his son Barbu Cioculescu.[13] He believes the fundamental difference between them is that Cioculescu-son was a noted admirer of Mateiu Caragiale, to whom he dedicated several of his texts.[13] Cioculescu's critical work and George Călinescu's attitudes were also formative instruments for the literary essays of poet Marin Sorescu.[83]
Alex. Ștefănescu argued that, largely as a result of this approach and his preoccupations, Cioculescu did not produce "a monumental work", his writings being structured as summaries "on the margin of documents, magazine, books."[6] Citing Cioculescu's own admission that he lacked necessary "grain of insanity", he also noted that such contributions were nonetheless leading in their field of choice.[6] A characteristic trait of Cioculescu's work was viewed by Ștefănescu as his attachment to Neoclassicism, Neoromaticism and Symbolism, with the implicit rejection of newer currents.[6] His writings, the same commentator noted, were tied to cultural references such as Charles Baudelaire, Benedetto Croce, Victor Hugo and Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve, and viewed the Comte de Lautréamont and Stéphane Mallarmé as factors of innovation.[6] According to Simona Cioculescu, her father-in-law found a kindred spirit in French Renaissance essayist Michel de Montaigne.[1] Ștefănescu believes that he preserved this hierarchy in assessing Romanian literature, by focusing his study on the pre-1900 age, by regarding the interwar as an unrepeatable peak, and by interpreting the avant-garde as a "heresy".[6] In Ștefănescu's definition, this was primarily a matter of "taste", as his pronouncements on the nature of modern poetry, which aimed to defend some interwar modernists against others, were equally applicable to "the poetry of Nichita Stănescu, that is to say the very person whom Șerban Cioculescu considered a distasteful representative of the modernist heresy."[6] When critic Gheorghe Grigurcu argued that the positions adopted by Cioculescu in the 1960s made him a voice of the official communist-generated direction, Ștefănescu claimed the opposite: "There are still many proofs, among them the systematic (and, of course, unjust) rejection of the poetry written by Nichita Stănescu, an almost unanimously accepted poet, that [Cioculescu] carried on reading Romanian literature in solitude until the end of his life, refusing to become a state-appointed critic."[6]