Guillaume Apollinaire's poetry fills the twenty-year interregnum between the end of Symbolism as an organized movement and the birth of Surrealism. The earliest selections in Alcools were composed the year of Mallarmé's death in 1898, and Calligrammes appeared only a few months before Breton and Soupault began their collaboration on Les Champs magnétiques in 1919. The work of perhaps no other poet in France at the turn of the century flows in such a direct current between the two dominant schools of the last seventy-five years. Obviously our appreciation of this period would gain considerably could we but view the poems of Apollinaire in the order in which he created them, proceeding with him from the mellifluous, fin de siècle delicacy of his first published piece, Clair de lune, to the discordant lines of Victoire:On veut de nouveaux sons de nouveaux sons de nouveaux sonsOn veut des consonnes sans voyellesDes consonnes qui pètent sourdement Imitez le son de la toupieLaissez pétiller un son nasal et continuFaites claquer votre langueServez-vous du bruit sourd de celui qui mange sans civilitéLe raclement aspiré du crachement ferait aussi une belle consonne