Fights
The Querelle des Anciens et des Modernes — the dispute over whether ancient or modern writers were superior — ran from roughly 1687 to 1716 and involved Racine, Boileau, Perrault and Fontenelle.

Also in Fights
Breton's Manifesto Declared Everything Else Finished
Oulipo Set Rules in Order to Break Different Ones
A dispute over Homer and Virgil was really a fight over whether French could stand beside Latin — and whether the present could outrank the past.
On 27 January 1687, Charles Perrault — better known today for the fairy tales he published a decade later — read a poem called Le Siècle de Louis le Grand ("The Age of Louis the Great") before the Académie française. Its claim was simple and incendiary: the writers of the present age surpassed the ancients. Homer nodded, Plato was obscure, and the French monarchy had produced a culture finer than anything Greece or Rome had managed.
The room was not pleased. Nicolas Boileau, the reigning arbiter of classical taste and author of the verse treatise L'Art poétique, responded with open contempt. Jean Racine, whose tragedies drew directly on Greek models, sided with Boileau. The querelle des Anciens et des Modernes ↗ — the quarrel of the ancients and the moderns — had begun in earnest.

What followed was not a single exchange but a sustained argument conducted across pamphlets, prefaces, and letters for nearly three decades. Perrault pressed his case in the four volumes of Parallèle des Anciens et des Modernes (1688–97), staging the debate as a series of dialogues in which a champion of classical antiquity is gradually and systematically outargued. Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle, Perrault's ally on the Moderns' side, added his own weight to the argument: if knowledge accumulates across generations, he reasoned, then the moderns must necessarily know more than the ancients, and writing could not be exempt from that logic.

The Ancients answered that literature was not science. Genius did not progress like astronomy or anatomy; Homer could not simply be superseded the way Ptolemy had been. Boileau eventually withdrew from the most heated exchanges, and a formal reconciliation between him and Perrault was brokered at the Académie in 1694 — but the quarrel's energy persisted in the correspondence of the period and spilled into England, where Jonathan Swift's The Battle of the Books (1704) staged the same contest as a library war.
The dispute was settled by nothing so clean as a verdict. What it accomplished was a shift in assumption: by the time the last volleys were exchanged around 1716, French had established itself as a literary language with its own authority, not merely an imperfect imitation of Latin. The Moderns lost the argument on Homer; they won the longer one about the Académie française and the legitimacy of the vernacular tradition it had been founded, in 1635, to protect.