It is important, however, at the outset to observe that as the nineteenth century advanced we find a mixture of tendencies in some writers.  From the mid-nineteenth century on, we can often apply these terms with some intelligence to individual works, rather than to authors.  Nonetheless, the classifications sometimes break down even here, when we are forced to recognize opposing tendencies in a given work.

    Realism is essentially born of an impatience with Romanticism.  The Romantic sees his material through the lenses of his imagination, and thus presents us a world that may be better or worse than the world we all know, but is never the world as it is actually lived.  The Realistic temper has never been quite so far removed from the classic as from the Romantic; the Classicist’s need of clarity and directness has often led him to sharp satire upon actual social conditions; the Classicist, moreover, has always tended to deal with contemporary life, as has the Realist.  Nevertheless, the dyed-in-the-wool Realist is often quite indifferent to form or beauty of any kind, and that is his main difference from the Classicist.  Rather, we should say, he finds beauty resides only in the depiction of truth.

    Realism looks at life with objectivity.  The Realistic author refrains from taking sides with his characters.  The author seeks to see life according to the facts, and hence presents his interpretation of it by documenting character, story, or picture with facts.  Moreover, Realism deals with contemporary society; the Realist avoids the past or the future since one can see them only through a veil of fancy.  The Realist is interested more in character than in story, more in people than in external nature.

    A newer tendency of Realism, which flourished in the works of such authors as Emile Zola and Guy de Maupassant, has been recognized as constituting in effect a new school, the school of Naturalism.  The distinguishing trait of this school is the rejection of the “art” of the Romantics and earlier Realists; instead these writers stipulate for a “scientific” method.

    Certain attributes of the Naturalist school are clearly decipherable: these writers tend to emphasize the more brutal aspects of existence; their manner of presenting such material is intentionally often revolting; they refuse to accept ideals as a part of human character; they make small pretense to weaving a plot in the older sense of the word; they are interested in presenting only what they believe to be the facts of a life; they do not recognize the existence of romantic love; they believe themselves to be applying to their books the scientific method; they often present many facts connected with the operation of a certain trade or industry as part of their “documentation”; they maintain an attitude of pessimism towards life; and philosophically they are deterministic.

    Naturalism has had a powerful effect upon late-nineteenth century and twentieth century literature, particularly in the United States.  Generally speaking, Naturalism has had the great virtue of honesty and intellectual integrity.  But it has had very considerable failings, too.  By denying the presence of artistry in writing, it has banished one of the greatest sources of pleasure in literature—but, of course, some Naturalists would deny the rights of readers to pleasure too.  Also, taking into account the actual productions of this school, we must charge its writers with being blinder to life than they have known, for the picture they give of it is almost uniformly gloomy and depressing.  Zola said that wherever he looked he could see only the beast in man, and that has been the whole bent of Naturalism.  According to the Naturalist, the pleasure to be derived from reading such works is in the excitement created by the author’s revelation of the ultimate truth about mankind.